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Chapter Text

September 29th 1991

Dear Mother,

Thank you for your last letter, I’m glad you enjoyed the Gala. I’m sorry to have missed the Falmouth Falcons making an appearance. I’ve pinned the picture you sent to the board above my bed —all my roommates commented on it.

I am, of course, doing well in all my subjects, but am a little surprised, as someone else has taken the top spot in nearly all of the lessons we share together. Her surname is Granger - I will admit, Mother, she is exceedingly clever. She has a vast knowledge of the wizarding world and, what is even more extraordinary - I think she may be a Muggleborn.

I’ve been considering what you mentioned about the ‘right kinds of friends’ to partner with in life - I’ve had a small disaster with this already with ‘the boy who lived’. As we agreed, he is not to my taste, at all. Anyway, would it not be pertinent to associate myself with someone who is not only highly intelligent but already garnering attention from the Professors as ‘the one to watch’?

If you could ask Poppy to pack some Sugar Quills in with my other sweets, I would be grateful. I noticed that Granger liked those best when we travelled on the Hogwarts Express. Maybe I can tempt her to become a friend of mine?

I do hope you and Father are well, I miss you.

Yours,

Draco.

***

September 30th 1991

Darling,

It was wonderful to hear from you. I miss you very much and am so pleased you liked the picture of the Falmouth Falcons. How wonderful that your roommates admire it.

My love, your father managed to get hold of the last letter you sent, and he is writing to you at the same time that I am. I very much hope you receive my letter first. He was quite cross, unfortunately - and as I explained to him, this is my fault for confusing you.

You see, Dear, when I mentioned the ‘right kind of friend,' I forgot to add that they must not be Muggleborn. As your father will quite rightly explain, they are beneath us. It's a shame this young lady does not have the right breeding - but this is non-negotiable. I will explain further when you come home.

My sincere apologies for causing you any upset.

Love,

Mother

***

September 30th 1991

Let me be very clear, Draco, you will not befriend any person who is not a pureblood or, at the very least, half-blood. A muggleborn is not even of the same species as us. Muggles are despicable specimens and completely beneath us - they are dirty and not to be tolerated!

You were born to a higher standard, my boy, and you will behave accordingly. I have never heard such utter disrespect to the Malfoy name. I expect you to outperform this mudblood in every one of your subjects. You are better than her, act like it.

Father.

***

October 5th 1991

Mother,

I can’t beat her.

Draco.

Chapter Text

June 1999

Draco tried to swallow as he laid his head back against the stone wall. His throat was so dry that he ended up hacking his guts up instead. He had not received water to drink with the morning rounds. The guard had ignored him, which was no bad thing, as being ignored was often better than the alternative.

His lips were chapped, his stomach empty, and his body ached.

The cold that lingered in the cell at all times had driven deep into his bones. There was a reason some prisoners didn’t complete their sentences - and it wasn’t due to early release.

Every day blurred, each moment a curse.

No one was coming.

But as he looked up at the small, circular, open window, he felt hope. Azkaban didn’t usually allow its inhabitants to have those kinds of sentiments. But he had a feeling and it bloomed like a glowing Lumos inside of him.

The familiarity of it reminded him of a time during his trial. It was the same feeling that had engulfed him when his sole witness had testified in his defence.

His memory took him back to that room in the bowels of the Ministry. The feel of the cold steel bars as he rested his fingers on the cage, the stern looks of the Wizengamot, the drama and strong sense of justice people were demanding after Voldemort's reign of terror.

The followers of the Dark Lord needed to be penalised.

Death Eaters needed to pay.

Nevertheless, Granger had stood in the dock, defiant against every minister in that court.

“And what is your testament, Miss Granger?”

“My testament is simply this - On the day of 20th March 1998, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and myself were taken to Malfoy Manor by a group of snatchers. Just before we were caught, I managed to hit Harry with a stinging jinx with the sole purpose of altering his appearance. When we arrived at the manor, we were taken directly to Mrs. Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange.

Mr. Draco Malfoy was called upon to identify us. I am entirely certain that Mr. Malfoy knew who we were - we had spent 6 years in each other's company at Hogwarts, in the same year. However, Mr. Malfoy kept repeating that he didn’t know whether it was us and that he wasn’t entirely sure. Let me be clear - the fact that he didn’t identify us - saved our lives and enabled us to escape the manor and regroup in order to complete our mission.

The very mission that defeated Voldemort.”

She alone had ensured the reduction of his sentence from ten years to one. The relief of a nine-year reduction from this hellhole had wrought an unbearable amount of hope from someone who had given up on seeing the light of day again.

That small feeling left pretty quickly upon entering Azkaban. A year of his life in a place with no time, no sunshine, nothing to do but rot had taken its toll. He was dirty, emaciated, wracked with illness, and barely holding on.

But today there was something in the air.

A clang against the bars of his cell made him jump. The noise was piercing; it was too close, too overwhelming. His ears felt invaded. He blinked and rearranged his limbs and tried to pay attention.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” the guard said as he opened his cell door. “We’re goin’ on a little walk.”

Walk? Draco snorted - he could barely stand. He tried and failed to get up.

Cue muttering from the guards as they raised their wands. Wincing for the punishment to come, he felt surprised as he was immobilised and then lifted into the air. Draco tried to keep conscious as the magic imbibed him - he was levitated out the door and down the dark passageway. He passed out completely after counting the tenth ceiling sconce.

The darkness engulfed him.

***

He came-to in a med-bed.

A comfortable, clean med-bed.

Wincing as the brightness painfully flooded his senses. Blinking and cautiously looking around the most pleasant environment he’d found himself in a while, he felt relief, but confusion.

A Healer smiled as she pottered about near him. There was not a lot of conversation between them, but she pulled up his vitals and gave him quite a few potions that soothed his aching limbs and quietened his busy mind. Draco wasn’t really sure what was happening, everything felt hazy and disconnected. What he did know, was that he was so fucking grateful for being out of that cell.

He fell in and out of consciousness for a while. Each time he was faced with a different Healer or staff member - he did not and could not ask if he was out of Azkaban for good. He was too frightened to find out the answer.

On the third day, when he could keep himself awake for more than a couple of hours, he was informed that his Handler from the DMLE would be attending him.

A momentary feeling of frustration and familiarity nearly overwhelmed him as Harry Potter walked into the ward. He cast a spell and approached Draco’s bedside.

Potter's robes denoted him as being an Auror-in-training. He was no longer the skinny wretch who continuously frustrated Draco. He looked calmer, healthier, stronger. His hair was short (but just as messy as it had always been) but Harry carried himself in a confident manner. He knew what he was about.

And yes, even in his mind he thought of him as Harry. He was just Harry. A kid, just like him.

None of it mattered, either way. There were no feelings left in Draco, so he just watched as Harry pulled up a chair.

“Feel free to shout at me - I’ve cast a privacy spell,” he stated irreverently.

Instead, Draco sighed wearily and said, “Hello, Harry.”

The boy who lived blinked. Draco supposed it was quite a big thing, they’d never addressed each other by their first names - but Hogwarts was a million years ago and Draco couldn’t honestly be bothered with the faff.

“Hi,” he replied. “How are you?”

Draco ignored the frankly ridiculous question.

“Am I out… for good?”

Please tell me I don’t have to go back, please tell me I don’t have to go back, please tell me I don’t have to go back.

“Yes, mate, you’re done. Has no one said? You got released three days ago.”

Relief flooded Draco’s weary body, and he put his face in his hands. Thank fuck for that.

The pair of them sat quietly for a little while, Harry comprehending Draco’s need for quiet and calm.

When Draco lifted his head, Harry had a hot drink in his hands and offered it to the former Death Eater. “It’s the weakest tea you’ve ever tasted, but it’s hot as hell.”

Draco accepted it gratefully. His hands shook a little as the warmth seeped into him.

A file appeared in Harry’s lap, and he flipped through it before looking up and addressing Draco. “Listen, you drink, I’ll talk,” Harry began. “You’ve been in Azkaban for exactly twelve months. Your mother, Narcissa, served three months. She is currently in France but plans to return as soon as you are settled. The Manor, your home, was sold, mate. From what I understand, you have another couple of residences that were subject to DMLE confinement and extraction of dark artefacts. But from my notes… yeah, that’s all done and dusted. When you’re ready, you’ll be moved to a townhouse in Cornwall - your mother suggested this one would be best for you to rest in… but it's honestly up to you where you go."

Draco swallowed the blisteringly hot drink and said hoarsely, "Cornwall is fine."

Harry took a breath to look at the file, so Draco asked a question.

“You’ve spoken to her?”

“Err, yeah,” Harry scratched his head awkwardly. “She contacts me a bit. Mainly asking about you, but we’ve kept in contact since I testified for her.”

Draco nodded, “I’m grateful for your intervention on her behalf.”

“Well, she did save my life,” Harry shrugged.

“And you, mine.” Draco shuddered, thinking of the fiendfyre.

“And you, err, mine.”

Draco frowned. What on earth could he mean?

“At the Manor, when you could have identified us.”

He closed his eyes. Granger's screams hollowed out his skull. He took a deep breath, coming out of the memory, and looked at Potter. “Not sure ‘non-admission’ is quite the same, Harry.”

“I’m alive, though,” he replied in a soft voice.

Draco changed the subject. He asked about some of his other friends. Harry answered willingly.

He learnt that Theo, Pansy, and Blaise had received a suspended sentence and were on home arrest.

Hardly any other Slytherins were subject to sentencing. Other parents had kept their children firmly away from Voldemort. All apart from his father.

“And Lucius?”

Harry took a moment, swallowing and faffing with the paperwork. “He didn’t make it. He was, err… murdered by a fellow inmate.”

Fuck.

Draco nodded. The only way that could have happened was if a guard had let another inmate into his cell.

A set-up in Azkaban.

Had he heard it? Had his mother?

Blinking away tears, he took another deep breath and looked up questioningly at Potter. Please, Merlin, carry on.

“So, when you’re up and running, we’ll arrange for a portkey to Cornwall. As your Handler, I’ll be with you for the first few days and then come and go periodically. You won’t be able to leave the property for a few weeks, but there's a rehab scheme to get you up to speed with what's been happening in the outside world. You’ll be able to correspond with friends and family again, and then we can look at what you want to do now that you’re out…. The expectation of someone who is returning to society is ‘contribution’.”

Draco let the words run over him. Spectacular.

“I’m gonna let all this sink in and be back tomorrow. The Healer recommends building up your strength, so try and have a walkabout.” Harry got up and vanished the file. He put a few letters on Draco’s bedside - his mother’s handwriting visible on the top.

“You’ll get your wand back when we finish the rehab. Two months tops.”

***

Six days had passed, and Draco was starting to feel better. Being clean was something he would never take for granted ever again. He often glanced at his hands, relishing in the lack of dirt under his nails and grime embedded in his skin.

As good as his word, Harry quickly arranged for a portkey to the property located a few minutes’ walk from the sea.

They arrived, and Harry awkwardly got Draco settled in his room. The journey alone, even though it was mere moments, had wiped Draco out. A window looking out to the ocean on a grey day couldn’t diminish his sense of freedom and gratitude.

Harry came and went frequently. On the first day he brought a familiar house-elf, called Poppy. Harry explained that the elf was now free and Narcissa paid her a salary to care for some of the houses they still owned. Whilst Draco was resting, Poppy would be responsible for his care.

Poppy had a detailed care plan that she stuck to rigidly and did not allow Mr. Malfoy to detour from the arrangement. The old Draco may have had a few choice words to say about all of this, but his apathy ensured compliance.

He caught Harry watching him a few times. Frowns, turning into an awkward nod.

Poppy had begun helping Draco to care for himself. - Today she was instructing him on how to wash the breakfast plates and tidy them away. Afterwards, she encouraged him to have a sit-down and rest.

Draco fell heavily into an armchair. Who knew that housework was so tiring?

After a few moments of quiet, Potter walked through the floo.

Dusting himself off, he said,“Morning, mind if I come and sit?”

Draco gestured at the sofa opposite.

“I need to complete a small questionnaire with you. Is that okay?”

Draco nodded.

They’d done this before. Harry had made sure he was respectful last time, so he assumed it would be more of the same.

It frustrated him, but it was no surprise to find out Potter was a decent guy. Draco couldn’t help but think that this was half the point, Harry had been on the right side the whole time. Not even fame could make this kid have an ego.

“Can you explain to me why you were sent to Azkaban prison for a period of twelve months?”

Draco swallowed. Pausing to allow himself to think.

“Because I became a Death Eater, was in support of Voldemort, let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, and attempted to m-murder my headmaster.” It was said methodically, but he was annoyed he had stumbled over some of the words. He should be able to say it out loud by now.

He frowned and released the arms of his chair from his death grip.

“Initially in support of Voldemort,” Harry murmured.

“Pardon?”

“You were initially in support of Voldemort; you changed your mind.”

Draco shrugged. “Whatever you think, Harry…”

“Okay, umm, I think we need to have a bit of a - what the fuck is it called? An open discussion…” Potter downed the parchment and sat up a bit.

Brilliant, thought Draco, but he took a deep breath and said, “Okay.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “C’mon, man, fight back. You are in this awful position, the one person you probably never wanted to see again is in charge of rehabilitating you back into society. This is a shitty situation. I practically own you at the moment - doesn’t that feel fucked up? Aren’t you pissed off? Not only were you in hell for the last year, but I’m here - Harry Potter. Dude, you hate me!”

Draco rubbed his face.

“Don’t hate you,” Draco muttered from behind his hands.

“What?”

“I SAID, I DON’T HATE YOU, YOU DEAF TWAT!” Draco looked away and swallowed. “I never hated you; I was just taught this fucked up lie for most of my life. I was taught I was better because, my blood is purer, right? But I saw Granger's blood on my drawing room floor whilst my aunt carved horrific pureblood rhetoric into her arm. We all bleed the fucking same, Harry - we are all the fucking same.

…And all of it was bullshit and for nothing.”

Draco got up and walked to the window. His hands trembled. He clenched his fists and shoved them into his pockets.

“It’s not you I hate... It’s me.”

There was a pause. A lull in the conversation.

Harry waited patiently for Draco to look back. “Well, what are you gonna do about it?”

Draco snorted, some of his old-self peeking back in. “Will gift baskets suffice?”

One side of Harry’s mouth raised into a smile. “Probably not, but it’s a start.”

Draco rolled his eyes, walked back to the armchair, and sat back down heavily.

“You were a kid, mate, a brainwashed child. You’re also fucking smart, not only academically - you fixed a vanishing cabinet, found the room of requirement, and were on Hermione’s coattails the whole time during school. No one came close to the pair of you.”

Draco huffed in an apathetic way.

“If you could do anything right now, what would you do?” Harry asked.

Draco’s hand squeezed into a fist. “Yaxley, I want fucking Yaxley ruined. Beating the shit out of that murdering rapist would probably help.” “Yeah, we don’t have him. He went underground, and we still are unable to catch him…”

The ground fell from beneath him.

“What?” Shocked, Draco felt his whole body come alive. Heart pounding in his ears. “What do you mean you don’t have him?”

“We have a list. Three of the main Death Eaters got away, and then we have about thirty other supporters we haven’t located.” Draco felt sick. He thought they’d gotten everyone. What the hell had gone wrong?

Harry snorted, reading his thoughts.“Welcome to my world. I'm still a year away from fully becoming an Auror. I’m being fast-tracked, but it’s still not fast enough. I want these guys in Azkaban.”

He watched Draco shudder. “No offence, or whatever, but as soon as I get my licence, I’m hunting supporters and Death Eaters.”

There it was, the fire that had driven Harry. His eyes alight with an intention that Draco couldn’t muster.

However, he needed to - his mother was alive, and he wanted her safe.

“Does Narcissa have protections in place?”

Harry seemed confused by the change of conversation. He shook his head.

“She needs them. Yaxley has a twisted interest in her. If he’s not gone after her already, he will at some point.”

All business now, Harry made a note on parchment.

“I might be able to give you some information that would help to locate them - I want to help, Potter. I want them all off the streets. They’re dangerous.”

Harry smiled at him. “Sounds good - I do need to do this evaluation with you, though, but after, I’ll get you an interview with a trained Auror, and we can go from there, alright?”

Draco nodded.

“Harry, I know this sounds very feeble. But I am sorry… for all of it.”

Harry nodded, took a moment, and then started asking his questions.

Chapter Text

June 1999

Hermione checked over her proposal once more. Her quill gently tapped her lip as she scanned the parchment. Her research was sound, the analysis was thorough, and her case was spell-proof.

Feeling pleased, she signed her name and dropped her quill.

She rolled her wrist to release the tension from her scribbling.

Thank goodness for the quick handwriting-correcting spell she had come up with in fifth year. She had terrible penmanship and legible, artistic writing did not come naturally - she had to really work at it. Using the spell had been slightly illegal back in school. George recently patented it for her (whilst also applying for the spell licence) and was selling it as part of his Weasleys’ Hogwarts Survival Guide.

She smiled affectionately.

Good old George, he’d been an absolutely brilliant friend. It was, of course, a reciprocal arrangement between the two, as Hermione needed the laughs and the Weasley affection without romantic entanglements; and George was lonely without his twin.

Plus, Hermione kept coming up with these hugely marketable products for his shop that they both profited from.

Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes had been prospering since the war. Everyone wanted some harmless fun, and the shop went from strength to strength. He was practically bankrolling his family.

She looked back at her proposal. Perhaps she could get Harry to read through it before she sent it off to Shacklebolt?

But really, she must stop relying on him for everything. Things had changed. They were no longer The Golden Trio. Yes, Harry and herself had undergone Auror training together, but Ron had left almost immediately to be a professional Quidditch player - his notoriety ensuring his pick of the teams.

The Auror training had gone well; Harry and Hermione were fast-tracked through most of the program. Apparently, defeating a dark lord came with some gravitas. The physical training was where Hermione had to really up her game - vaulting over things and upper body strength was not naturally in her remit. She trained ferociously to ensure she got top marks - which she did. But it took its toll, and both she and Shacklebolt came to the conclusion that maybe fieldwork wasn’t where her strengths or her career in the DMLE lay.

Hence her transfer into the Analytics Department - which she gratefully accepted. She had been a decent caster, and her quick thinking had saved her friends time after time. Still, her real love was behind the scenes, in a quiet room, researching something to death and coming up with formidable answers.

The first thing she noticed in her new role at the DMLE was the lack of resources. The war had caused huge losses. However, the shortage of wizards was not the problem. Instead, it was how the DMLE utilised the staff they did have. It was a foregone conclusion that Aurors worked in teams or pairs on most projects. Reflecting heavily on staff resources and making undercover and spy assignments more difficult.

Hermione’s new project centred on sending an Auror with a specific skill set - into the field, effectively as a ghost. This assignment would mean that the Auror would not be identified by their robes - they’d also be someone who could navigate the muggle world. After the war, muggle relations were epically bad - the DMLE needed someone to fix this relationship. They needed someone who could go dark and be an anti-hero.

She envisioned it as the Batman of the wizarding world. Who would scare the baddies? Someone they didn’t see coming.

Having someone like this around would have probably meant that three school children hadn’t needed to defeat the Dark Lord.

Not that she was bitter.

She had rationalised this heavily.

Dumbledore had worried Voldemort. He was the only wizard who could beat him. But Dumbledore had been an old man, a kindly old man with twinkly eyes and the Headmaster of a school. Not exactly the hero who could incite fear in his enemies.

Of course, not many people knew of Dumbledore's penchant for leading a boy who adored him to his eventual death and happily manipulating his colleagues, students (children), friends, and practically anyone you’d ever met into a war they hadn’t seen coming.

But she did need a pinch of that go-get-’em attitude - in a younger model. An Auror who was intelligent, had loose morals, was an expert in their field, and with an added depth of darkness.

She had no clue who it would be, but finding the fit wasn’t her job. She was here to provide resolutions to lingering problems. They had won the war. But how did they ensure that it would never happen again?

Now that she could do.

No child under her watch would go through a life experience of that magnitude ever again.

Hermione looked up to see a paper plane skidding to a halt on her desk. She placed her wand on it to release the message keyed to her name. She opened the parchment and found it was a note from Harry.

Got an overnighter with a newly released prisoner. Really getting somewhere, so I would like to stick around and see it through. Kreacher will kill me if one of us doesn't go back tonight, though, cos he’s doing a roast dinner. Can you at least pop in before you head off to your night classes? Sorry to be a pain. You can punch me later.

Yours, gratefully,

Hazzer Pottdoddle.

She snorted at the name he’d given himself.

Harry was so different these days. Lighter, happier, and joyfully doing his job and living his life. She smiled at the messy parchment and his scribble. Amused herself by trying her ‘correcting handwriting’ spell on his words and instantly felt glee as his scribble became beautiful penmanship. Then she scratched her chin thoughtfully.

It would be no hassle to grab dinner with Kreacher before apparating to Oxford.

Never one to sit still, Hermione's studies were varied - she intended to get several degrees on the side of her DMLE career.

She also volunteered at St. Mungo's, inspired by the few healing spells she learned when they were on the run

She quickly replied to Harry.

No problem, Hazzer. I’ll tell Kreacher to save you a plate - which you can scoff tomorrow.

Yours, violently (you’ll get your punch),

Hermoony Grazzle-Dazzle

After enchanting the parchment to Harry and putting it in her out tray, she watched as it disappeared to the owlery.

She stretched her back and then got up. She wanted to take her project to Kingsley herself. It was officially time to make her mark in the DLME.

October 2009

Staring at the front cover of the Daily Prophet for more than twenty minutes was definitely not a healthy activity. Watching a charmed picture of Ronald Weasley kiss his wife, as his small children crowded around him in a three-second loop was also slightly dubious and downright weird. Hermione folded the paper in half and shoved it into her overflowing bin.

Fucking Ron!

It was so perplexing that he had the most normal life of the three of them.

No. She couldn’t be cross.

She hadn’t wanted any of that. She hadn’t wanted to become the next Molly Weasley. Which was probably a little unfair to Verity, Ron’s wife, who was really, very lovely and Hermione liked her a lot. They always had a nice chat when they got together, Verity was happy to cheer Ron on and welcome him home with a meal lovingly prepared by her own fair hands.

If Hermione was truthful with herself, cheering Ron on was not how she wanted to spend her time. There was so much more to do - sitting around at Quidditch games was not where she had needed to be.

Admittedly, finding the time to hang out with the Weasleys had become increasingly difficult. With Hermione’s and Harry’s jobs being so involved, the Weasley children being so little, and, of course, Ron’s career, finding a moment for even a quick coffee was slightly traumatic.

Hermione made a note to call Verity next week.

Glancing back at the bin, with the folded up newspaper, she realised she didn’t miss him so much… there was just something else that was missing.

And it made her feel sad.

Plus, Ron looked rather good in his Quidditch kit. Bastard.

She took a sip of cold peppermint tea, wrinkled her nose, and placed her head in her hands. It was definitely time to go home. What on earth was she still doing in the office?

The lingering headache that had been cycling around her skull all day had now merrily reached the backs of her eyes.

She opened up a desk drawer and looked for a potion. She knew she had one knocking about somewhere.

At the very moment her hands grasped something vial shaped, a junior analyst burst through the door, startling Hermione and almost making her shut her hand in the drawer.

Fuck!

“Sorry, the door was open.” Alice grimaced as Hermione waggled her hand about.

“No problem; what’s up?”

“We’ve had another incident.”

Hermione raised her eyebrow, “Any Aurors know of this yet?”

Alice shook her head, her locs twisting out around her.

When Hermione had first taken these events to Harry, as the head of the Auror department, he had practically shoved her out of his office, telling her he’d got it covered and that it was a Shacklebolt project.

Logically, she knew that they were in different departments - both had risen to the top - but over the years, they had drifted apart. It had been inevitable, both were heavily involved in their relative departments in the DMLE, and these were tough, relentless roles. The DMLE itself had grown significantly since they had joined over a decade ago, but it still stung that Harry locked her out of something her own team had been working on.

Although she wasn’t too proud to admit it, she would probably do the same.

The last incident her team had come across had been captured from various reports from muggles. They had witnessed a bus full of muggle children being driven off a bridge into a river near Salford. The bizarre thing was that the bus suddenly paused in mid-air and seemed to follow the same trajectory, but backwards - out of the river and safely back on the road again.

The bus driver and children were all fine.

The testimonies obviously came before all of the muggles had been obliviated. Vanessa, from that team, said it had felt pretty nightmare-ish, obliviating children.

Alice herself had worked on a number of similar incidents. All of the attacks were on vulnerable muggles, and every time, the witness stated that something or someone saved them. The way they were saved pointed directly to a magic user.

There seemed to be some sort of wizard vigilante protecting them.

The problem was, her team had no evidence of who they were. Her case file was just a bunch of odd testimonies or rumours. The whole thing was a mystery, and the best bit of evidence she had was quashed by the Auror department.

Alice pressed her lips together, and excitement lit up her eyes. She twirled a loc and grinned at Hermione. “H, we have footage. There was a security camera that was missed. It’s all just come in, but we have to jump on it. Vanessa is starting to obliviate, and the first team has just been pulled.”

That meant the Aurors would be going in momentarily.

Hermione stood up. This felt like progress.

Once Hermione took over as Senior Analyst, she insisted that muggle technology was made available to her department and that it was no longer admissible in Wizengamot court. She also insisted the whole department complete a Data and Analytics master’s degree. Unfortunately, the tech often did not work in the DMLE offices; too much magic made the systems crash regularly. So, she rented an office space in Welwyn, Hertfordshire with a fireplace and connected it to the DMLE’s floo network. It was coded to trusted members of her team.

The frustrating thing was that her team was good. Very good. They cracked every case that had come across their desk. They knew everything that was going on in the wizarding world and the muggle world, for that matter. Hermione found it difficult to believe that they still couldn’t unmask this vigilante.

At one point, she wondered whether it was Harry, missing the good old days when he was able to run around England finding Horcruxes and battling Death Eaters, but she dismissed that notion quickly.

She knew it wasn’t his style.

This security camera that was missed could be the vigilante’s first mistake. Interesting.

The two women walked toward the fireplace in Hermione’s office, Alice chucking floo powder into the grate and Hermione reciting the office location.

When they arrived at the small office, Hermione’s heart was beating wildly - this was it. This footage would be the link she needed to unlock this mystery.

She dusted herself down and acknowledged the two other members of her team. They were crowded around a monitor - the footage paused and ready to go.

Hermione nodded, and the screen came to life. It was grainy and slightly blurry. The camera was on a building across the way. It was a playground. Hermione could see children and parents gathered around the equipment. Pushing their little ones on swings and guiding them down the slide.

Two wizards apparated right into the park, dressed in robes with wands out, in broad daylight.

Before they had time to cast their spell, another figure ran into view. Even in the grainy footage, you could see the new person was dressed in muggle clothes, his wand ready.

The three subjects began to duel. The lone wizard kept running towards them, he vaulted over a bench; the motion not breaking his stride. The spells looked nasty. You could see the horror in peoples’ faces. The muggles instinctively shielded each other. Some were frozen, others gaping in terror.

The vigilante's shield held strong, and he beat the other wizards back until, eventually, he was within a few feet of both. One of the wizards fell down, stupefied, but the other kept casting, walking backwards until his feet hit the edge of a sandpit- he looked down, and the vigilante took advantage. In a rather unconventional way, he punched the robed wizard and expelliarmus-ed his wand. Catching it easily, he pocketed both wands and fought the wizard with his fists.

The vigilante was a natural fighter, his body moving with the speed and grace of a martial artist. The robed wizard, outclassed, lost the brawl.

Trying in earnest to protect his head, he was finally downed by a roundhouse kick.

The muggle-dressed wizard dragged the figure across the grass over to the stunned attacker, and just before he took his wand out, he sneered at the two criminals in full view of the camera.

Hermione gasped at the footage and watched as the three apparated away.

Heart in her throat, she asked the junior analysts to rewind and pause the footage.

"Do you recognise the vigilante, H?" Alice asked.

Hermione looked into Alice's brown eyes. She took a breath "Maybe… I just want to check a few things before I confirm it."

"Hold onto this footage. Keep it between the four of us. No other eyes on it." She demanded.

The three junior analysts nodded. She could trust them. She walked, a little shakily, to the fireplace.

Taking a moment before she floo'd back to the office, she looked back at the face paused on the screen. He had a shaved head, a scruffy beard, and he'd filled out as a tall, muscular man.

Hermione knew his face perfectly, she could recognise him anywhere. She was looking at former Death Eater, Draco Malfoy.

For the life of her, she didn't know why she hadn't just told her team.

Chapter Text

Draco lugged Phillips and Murphy into the makeshift cell. He patted them down, took out wallets, suspicious-looking vials, and other paraphernalia he found, and then cast a Revelio to see if there was anything else he’d missed; it came back clean.

They were both out cold. Phillips, from the Stupefy he had caught in the temple, and Murphy, from the sweet roundhouse Draco had landed.

Mastering kickboxing six years ago had never failed to be consistently satisfying.

There was no combat training, as such, in the wizarding world. His people dismissed it. Physicality, bar quidditch, was generally frowned upon. Mastering magic was all that mattered.

Draco recognised the benefits of adding this to his repertoire as soon as Harry had taken him to see his first fight.

Wizards were idiots, Draco thought as he got up off the floor and slammed the cell door closed after him.

He took his phone out of his pocket and fired off a quick message to Harry.

2 more ready for removal - you owe me a pint.

Potter would be pleased. The team had been after Phillips and Murphy for a while. The pair had been a part of Macnair’s retinue. All had been quiet for a time;- the Death Eaters seemingly sliding off the face of the earth… but just like the rest, something had been activated and they had resurfaced.

Draco’s contact confirmed that the pair had been spotted at an illegal dangerous-species fight. The fighting ring information had been handed over to some other Aurors, but Phillips and Murphy were for The Ghost.

He smiled. The moniker had not been his idea, but it had worked. The scourge of the wizarding world feared The Ghost, and it was all down to a bit of mystery and some excellent branding and marketing by Susan Bones. Only a select few knew it was Draco, and that was how he liked it.

The days of him wanting to be ‘seen’ were long gone.

The peace he got from being in the shadows was what kept him sane.

Draco quickly checked his other messages; one came in was from Zabini, it read: almost immediately.

Q-ditch tomorrow night?

Draco sent a reply and then pocketed his phone.

He rotated his shoulder a few times and then headed for the door to the abandoned warehouse. Well, it looked like that from the outside. Several muggle-repelling charms attached to the building helped to keep anyone away.

A convenient dark alley to the rear of the building meant he could apparate back home. In a few minutes, the place would be swarmed with Aurors, picking up the captives.

He landed at his flat, showered and changed, and then headed to the gym. He parked his car, jogged through traffic, and signed into the building.

Stowing his bag in a locker, he grabbed his towel, headphones, and water bottle and settled himself on a running machine. Firing it up, he began a slow jog as he messed with his iPod and chose an appropriate playlist. Once he settled on some dance music, he looked up to find a girl looking over.

Abby? Annie? Shit, he was sure she had said her name the last time they had spoken. She was a gorgeous blonde with big, pretty eyes. She blushed, looked away, and then looked back with a smile. He nodded and returned her smile.

After a few minutes of swapping looks, Draco looked away, prioritised, and started to speed up. Flirting and eye-fucking women was nice, but he needed to let off a bit of steam. The endorphins flooded through him. Oh yeah, that was the stuff.

It was this euphoria and the job that kept all of the bad feelings away.

Living in this world, and working in the wizarding world, was the key to his success, and he didn’t take it lightly. The muggle world wasn’t easy. There were rules you needed to learn, just like in the wizarding world. There was even an elitist, upper class that reminded him of his childhood. It had been so tempting to fall back into something familiar, but he had deliberately chosen a different path.

The hierarchy was no different here than with the pureblood rhetoric. Just as evil, just as selfish. No, thanks. Draco decided he wanted to know different people and, if they allowed it, he wanted to be part of their world.

Harry had helped him navigate a lot of it, and Draco was happy to call him a friend. It seemed as soon as the war had ended, a lot of the rivalries had diminished between the younger generation.

He would admit that becoming ‘friends’ sounded a lot easier than it had been. He and Harry had danced around that title with each other for quite some time. Long nights hanging out at the townhouse together, hesitantly sharing stories, and then later on - apologies eased them into being awkward acquaintances.

His pride took a severe beating, but really, what was left? Harry had saved his mother when the majority of the Wizengamot wanted her in Azkaban for life. He hadn’t needed to, but he’d done it anyway. It had been hard to remain cross with him after that.

The old Draco had died in that cold, awful cell. Harry, the absolute dick of an amazing friend that he was, made Draco get out of bed in the morning and start creating a new life. It was Harry that had pulled in the favour to get Draco into Auror training. Harry, who championed him through the process.

It was difficult to feel anything but affection for the speccy idiot. Plus, he was funny, even when he didn’t mean to be.

It was Draco’s door that Harry arrived at when Ginny had broken up with him. Draco had taken him to France for a week, and they’d spent most of it plastered.

Of course, there were still secrets. Mostly everyone else in his life, except Harry, thought he worked at an accountancy company. He’d always been good with numbers, and most people believed he’d failed the Auror training - which was comforting.

Harry had been the one to suggest the assignment with Shacklebolt originally. He’d found himself astounded when Shacklebolt had agreed to the arrangement.

Of course, Harry was now the man in charge, and Draco found he had no resentment over that fact.

Draco was right where he needed to be.

After thirty minutes, Draco hit the cool-down button; he wiped his face and the equipment down with the towel. He downed his entire water bottle and caught his breath before moving on to the next lot of equipment.

As he loaded the bar with weights, the girl he was eyeing earlier approached.

He looked up as an appealing pinkness touched her cheeks.

“Hi,” she said, eyes alight with excitement. Her substantial chest was rising and falling like she was out of breath.

Draco stood up slowly, taking his headphones out, and hung them over his shoulders. Her eyes followed as he stood to his true height. He’d always been tall, but now he had some breadth to go with it.

“It’s Dan, right?” she asked. He nodded.

Dan was much more appropriate for the Muggle world than Draco. It wasn’t as if he looked like he came from a Latinx family.

“Umm, Abbie?” He guessed.

She giggled and shook her head. Crap.

“Beth,” she amended. Thankfully, she was still smiling.

Draco winced and ran a hand over his stubbly head. “Blame it on the equipment. The running affects my memory.” He smiled at her. What was he saying? It didn’t matter - what did they call it? Pretty privilege. He was confident he could talk about taking a dump and she’d be cool about it.

“Or maybe the bump to the head,” Her hand shot up to gently touch the side of his head, he moved reflexively so her hand didn’t connect. What was she talking about?

“Sorry, I don’t know why I was going to touch something that looks so sore,” she frowned adorably, chastising herself.

“No, it’s okay. I forgot about it.” He remembered that Murphy had landed a blow, damn it. He should have taken care of it before heading out.

His phone started to ring and he smiled regrettably at Beth. “Gotta take this; it’s the Boss.”

Beth smiled, nodded, and walked away.

He answered. Harry rarely rang him.

“What’s up?” Draco asked quietly, unsure of the protocol in the gym, he kept his voice down.

“We may have a slight problem,” Harry said.

“And by that you mean..?”

“Hermione knows about your assignment.”

“Granger?! How the fuck does she know? We’ve been so careful.”

“Because she has a massive brain and figures things out ridiculously easily from minimal information. Where are you? I’m pretty sure she’s headed to your place,” Harry replied.

“Umm, I’m sorry - what? Headed to my flat? Why would she be heading there?”

Draco started to gather up his stuff whilst Harry explained. “We missed a security camera and her team caught it. She went fucking spare at me, mate. Look, I don’t have time to explain at the moment, but be prepared, cos she is not a happy bunny.”

Draco jogged over to his locker and grabbed his gym bag. “Harry, you’re not making sense mate. What is going on? Why do I need to be prepared? She’s got nothing to do with this, right? Why is she so angry?”

“Listen to me. She’s headed to the townhouse. She’s using my floo password. It’s… look, it’s hard to explain, but she’s angry at me, not you. But she wants answers and I’m sorry, I’ve dropped you in it.”

Draco was running to the carpark. He dodged a woman opening her car door.

“Harry, what the fuck is happening? What do you mean? Dropped me in what?” He opened his car door and threw his bag on the passenger seat. The sweat under his top didn’t feel great on the leather of the car seat.

“D, I gotta go. I have to go and debrief Angelina. She’s at St Mungo’s, nothing to worry about, but I’m here and I need to go in. You’ll be fine. Just be honest with Hermione, okay? I’m regretting not keeping her informed, but Shacklebolt forbade it. It’s all fucking political. Good luck - piece of advice, don’t rile her up, stay calm, and keep your wand in your pocket.”

Harry disconnected the call.

Draco pulled into traffic and slammed on his brakes, nearly giving himself whiplash as he careened around a Ford Focus. Fucks sake! He was going to kill Harry.

What on earth was Granger involved for?

He tried desperately to remember her role within the DMLE. Analyst came to mind, maybe with a promotion over the years? He wasn’t sure. It wasn’t that Harry kept his friendship with Draco a secret. Harry had been a great friend, slightly determined for his close group of friends to get to know each other, but Draco had kindly, yet firmly, shut him down over the years. Some invitations he would accept, like Quidditch games or meeting for drinks in the pub, but family gatherings, parties, and the like, he kept away from.

He had been famous for the wrong reasons in the past and wanted to be forgotten. His mother was not thrilled about this news, but she hardly had a leg to stand on. Narcissa concentrated on charity events these days. She continuously tried to draw Draco back into society and visibly hated his ties to the muggle world but said nothing.

Draco was thankful for what Granger did back in the day but had hardly thought about her since.

He remembered Harry drunkenly telling him that Hermione was so work-focussed that she rarely made time for any of her old friends. She only hung out with her boyfriend or her colleagues.

None of this was relevant - why the fuck was she involved in Project X3541? Was she about to out him? Was she horrified that Draco was out in the field protecting muggles? Would she wreck everything? Was his life about to be ruined?

Fuck Granger; she had no right. He had earned this life.

He drove up his street and parallel parked his car turning his head to glance out the rear windows. Using the heel of his right hand to spin the steering wheel, he reversed perfectly into the vacant space. He sprinted into his building, took the stairs two at a time, and opened the door to his flat with his keys.

Draco threw his bag on the chair, approached the fireplace, and floo’d to Cornwall.

***

He’d purposely floo’d to the upstairs fireplace. He cocked an ear, listening for any noises, as he stepped through the grate. Sure enough, someone was rummaging around loudly downstairs. He gently brushed the dust off his shoulders and padded silently out of the room and down the stairs.

The noise was coming from his office. He took his wand out and held it lightly in his fingers.

Fuck Harry and his no-wand requirements. He remembered how quick Granger was when she needed to be. Those jinxes were nasty.

He silently passed the office doorway to give himself a glimpse of what she was up to. He needn't have bothered. She was so engrossed in looking at his open files on his desk that she was totally unaware of Draco passing by.

He leaned on the doorframe and admired the view for a while. Granger was wearing jeans and a thick woolly jumper. Her curly hair was up in a hectic bun on top of her head; her wand jabbed through the middle. She was leaning over his desk, Draco noticed she had filled out nicely.

Merlin, Draco could not take his eyes off her plump, round arse. She had not looked like this at school. He pocketed his wand and then looked at his large hands. He gently flexed his fingers and looked back at her arse - he wondered if the distance was causing her butt to look bigger. He reckoned he could get a good handful, and there’d still be a little left over. He half smiled and continued objectifying her for a few more minutes.

When she leaned over even further to spin a different file around, he almost groaned. He caught himself, thankfully, and realised that he was being slightly creepy. Also, and most importantly, he was wearing rather small football shorts. He shook himself, readjusted his clothing, licked his dry mouth, and tried to look nonchalant.

“Find anything interesting?” he asked.

Granger shrieked and spun around.

Well, fuck.

It was not a woolly jumper as he had first thought, but a multicoloured cardigan with thick round buttons. It gaped over her breasts. He turned his head, suddenly met with a memory of Professor Sprout wearing something similar.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed out. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly. She readjusted the cardigan, pulling it down.

“Little slow off the mark there, Granger; you're losing your edge.”

Draco could have face-palmed at that moment. Yes, brilliant, remind her of the time you were on opposite sides of the war.

Granger rearranged her face, blinked a few times, and mastered her breathing. “Yes, well, it’s been a little while since I’ve been in the field. I may have forgotten… anyway, that’s not important.”

She looked him up and down, blinked a bit more, and redirected her gaze to the floor. “You look… different.”

“So do you, Granger.” Draco felt surprised as he heard a little flirtiness in his voice. Must have been left over from when he was talking to that other chick.

She pulled at her cardigan again.

She did look different. She was curvier, way curvier. School had been a long time ago and she’d been this tiny, little thing. Practically emaciated during the war, if he was honest. They all had been thin from hunger.

This Granger had a body.

And he needed to stop objectifying her. It was Granger, for fucks sake. As soon as she got her brain back, she’d fuck him up in an instant.

She was still the scariest woman he’d ever met.

“So,” Draco moved towards her and he saw her fingers wrap around the edge of the desk behind her. “Back to my original question. With one follow-up.”

“Err, w-what?” she stammered.

Draco stopped a few feet away from her and then abruptly detoured around his desk. He fell heavily in his chair and glanced at the files she was looking through. Hermione turned slowly to face him.

“Did you find anything interesting?” He nodded toward the desk. “And, the follow-up, why are you in my house?”

She narrowed her eyes - okay, here we go. She was back.

“Tell me about where you were this morning,” she demanded, her chin rising defiantly.

Draco arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious, Darling?” he gestured to his gym attire.

Darling! Where had that come from?

“Malfoy, I saw the footage. You, in a park, surrounded by Muggle children and their parents. Two dark wizards. Is any of this ringing a bell?”

“Do you know? I like this!” He pointed back and forth between the two of them. “Feels like an interview. Take a seat, Miss Granger. Tell me where you see yourself in five years.”

Planting her hands on his desk, she leaned towards him. “Malfoy, as funny as this is, I have questions and you are going to answer them.”

“Well, please do go on. Shall I get some tea?”

What the fuck had happened to him? He’d worked tirelessly to remove the plummy, posh accent he’d been born with and develop a softer, normal British accent. Something from the Midlands, a little southern, a hint of northern. The perfect untraceable accent.

Thirty seconds in Granger’s company and he sounded like an extra from Pride & Prejudice.

Hermione looked around, her eyes wide with shock. “Do you still have house elves?”

“Calm down Granger, just one. And I pay her a salary.”

Why was he explaining himself?

Granger shook her head lightly. “Not important,” she murmured as if to herself. “I don’t want tea, I just want a straight answer. Are you the assignee on Project X3541?”

“Before I answer, and I will answer, remind me again of your role within the DMLE?” Draco leaned forward on his desk, looking intently into her eyes. They were light brown; she had mascara beneath her right eye, only a little bit, and freckles on her nose.

She straightened, chin up. “I’m head of the Analytics Department.” Another tug at her cardy. Draco followed the movement.

“So, just to be clear, absolutely nothing to do with the Auror Department?”

She shook her head.

“Then my answer is; you have no authority to ask me any questions about my current employment. I would refer you to the current Head Auror, Mr. Harold Potter. He will answer any of your queries, I’m sure.”

“His name is not Harold!”

“Well, it’s something like that, Harold? Barry? Old guy, beer belly, green eyes that you could just melt into. Wears the most God awful glasses, but once you get past that, he’s decently attractive. Terrible dancer and honestly, the worst seeker in Hogwarts history.”

He paused for a moment, feigning a thoughtful look. “If memory serves, there was this small blonde player that people often remember - a compassionate and gifted boy, really could have gone the distance, but unfortunately fell foul of… ”

“Malfoy, I know it’s you. Bookkeeping and Accountancy is a fake company. It makes a dismal profit and has no legitimate clients - Theodore Nott, your friend, does not count. You completed and passed the Auror training in a dizzying twelve months and, because of the leads you gave the DMLE after your extraction from Azkaban and, I’m sure, Harry's encouragement, Shackebolt gave you the project.”

“Dizzying, huh?” He grinned at her.

Hermione dragged the cardy down once more. Draco could not fathom why she was doing it. It stretched out across her breasts and was madly distracting. Was he meant to be drawn to them? Did she want him to look? What were the rules here?

“Yes, dizzying,” She wasn’t smiling. “Plus, it seems pretty suss to me that you have left extremely classified department files open on your desk. I am not an idiot, Malfoy. You incapacitated two dark wizards in less than forty-five seconds in bright sunshine and in front of fifteen muggles. Contrary to popular belief, you didn’t fail the Auror exam and become an accountant. You are what is known colloquially as The Ghost.”

She finally sat down. “Plus, Harry admitted it.”

Brilliant.

Draco took a calming breath. If this was all about to be wrecked, he would not lose himself. Never again.

“Look, Granger, as lovely as this little reunion is, I need to know what the fuck you want?”

She looked up and into his eyes. They shone a little and she blinked. Her long eyelashes fluttered as she stared with intent.

“How long have you been the assignee?” It was like being blasted with Veritaserum

Draco stared back. “Nine years.”

“Nine years? NINE YEARS!” Hermione jumped up. Draco stood too, then looked about himself with confusion. What the fuck was going on?

Granger began walking backwards and forwards, wringing her hands and muttering. “...it had been a success, which was great but not supposed to be so long, two years max. They changed it to suit themselves, those fucking bastards… and HARRY KNEW! He fucking knew. Oh my God. Nine years. Malfoy, holy fuck!”

She continued walking back and forth for a few moments, muttering to herself. Finally she looked up at him.

“I’m sorry, God, I’m sorry. I’ll fix it, Malfoy. I promise.”

Draco watched as she headed back to the fireplace. She grabbed his floo powder and muttered DMLE before she walked into the grate.

“Granger, wait!”

Draco stood with his mouth wide open as she disappeared.

He looked around the room furiously. He found his mobile phone and dialled Harry. The phone was dead. Fucking magical houses. Tech never worked within them. He walked to the kitchen, out the back door, and tried again.

Harry’s phone was off. He was at St Mungo’s.

FUCKING HELL!

Chapter Text

On her arrival back to the DMLE, Hermione had walked right out the front door. She needed to take care of her many, many thoughts.

The fight with Harry had been awful. They hadn’t fought like that for a long time, and she was pretty sure that whoever was in the Auror department had heard every word, even with the silencing charm Harry had thrown up as she shrieked at him.

When Harry finally admitted that Draco was the assignee in the project she had written all those years ago, her heart sank. Her whole department had wasted time trying to figure out who this person was and he worked for them all along. It was ridiculously frustrating, but the main thing upsetting her was that it was Malfoy.

“How on earth did he pass the psych test, Harry? The role was specific to someone who had experienced no trauma. They needed to be the kind of person who could be isolated without it taking its toll. Malfoy had been in Azkaban for a whole year… Azkaban!”

“I know, H, I realise that this looks a little crazy, but just look at his tests,” Harry grabbed a file out of thin air and showed her Draco’s personnel information. “He smashed the Auror course. One hundred percent in every test we threw at him, plus he lived in the muggle world with zero mistakes for three months before we agreed to it. He’s a machine; he’s never failed. Not once, he moves through the world like a shark…”

“Yes, never swimming backwards, not looking at his past. Because you didn’t let him!”

“That’s not fair, Hermione. Draco did the work. He confronted his demons.”

“The assignee was supposed to have a clean bill of mental health. The project was far too isolating for someone who had been in that hell hole.”

“Do you not trust me? Merlin, H, I’m not an idiot. We adjusted it to suit the right person…”

“You should have consulted me!” Hermione raged.

“H, they call him The Ghost. We are one-upping any attempt at an attack on a muggle or a magic family. I’m telling you, dark wizards are scared. We’ve done this the right way; it’s working. Your idea is working.”

“What were his psych results?”

Harry had shuffled through the file.“They aren't here.” Of course they weren’t. They’d be locked in Shacklebolt's office.

“Harry, where is Malfoy?” She grabbed the file off him. She pointed at the townhouse address. “Floo password?”

Harry had hesitated but finally drawled out, “Slaghorn can eat shit.”

Hermione found herself sighing as she walked through Muggle London. She rubbed her face. Nine years. Fuck.

She thought back to Malfoy, leaning on that doorway as she snooped on his desk. She hadn’t heard him. He was a spy, but all the same. She hadn’t even heard him floo into the house!

And he was so big, this big giant thing, in tiny shorts and a fitted T-shirt.

God, it was fitted.

Those shorts should be illegal.

The Draco she remembered had looked nothing like the man who had stood in front of her. The video hinted at how he looked now, but the reality was a little unexpected. He was so just so… fit.

He had been gaunt before. Tall but slim.

Not built like some kind of warrior. Hermione lightly touched her lip. Nope, let's not open that door.

She had felt so self-conscious. She was not fit in any way. She was a little bit out of breath now if truth be known. Why was London so hilly? Fuck, she should not care about this. Yes, she was bigger than she had been at school, but she’d been a child, for fucks sake, and literally starving at one point during the war.

She smoothed down the cardigan and refused to feel bad about her body. He could seriously get fucked if he thought her unappealing.

Wait, what?! This was not what she was supposed to be thinking about.

Merlin, it was Malfoy. Yes, he looked like he walked out of a man’s aftershave advertisement, but that was not the point.

Nine years! Christ, how had he been surviving?

She felt awful. She hadn’t even thought about the stupid project for so long. It was supposed to be this faceless person who had no damaged backstory. A great witch or wizard who was able to serve the DMLE in a position for two years and then move on. Someone who would be a great deal richer for undergoing the process. A limited position that would allow them to be transferred into a new department or get a decent promotion for their services.

NINE YEARS! This was totally unacceptable.

She had needed to see Draco. Needed to see that he was okay. She remembered that day so clearly. Him in the cage in the middle of the courtroom.

God, she'd hated him. He was a bully and such an obnoxious little shit. But towards the end, he was so defeated, so depressed, so anxious. He was lonely, isolated, and scared. Even at the Manor, when it had happened. He was so frightened. He still denied he knew them. Even when he was terrified.

But that day in the courtroom, he had watched her testify with this look on his face. Hermione couldn't describe it. It was so intense she had to look away when she began talking.

The fucking Wizengamot wanted to blame anyone they caught. Harry and herself caught wind and testified as soon as the name Malfoy was mentioned. Stupid, ridiculous system. The same court that happily tried to try Harry as an adult when he was fifteen.

Ten years, they'd wanted to sentence Draco with. Ten! She had used every favour she had to reduce his sentence. The fucking hypocrisy.

Oh, God, she had been just as bad. Nine years! Every time she thought of it, she felt sick. She needed to sort this out.

She looked around wildly for a place to apparate. Walking in between a building and hiding behind a statue, she vanished.

***

Harry still lived in Grimmauld Place. She got through the wards and knocked on the door. She waited for a little while, then let herself in. It had been a while, but Harry had not revoked her access.

The place was still the same, really. When Ginny had lived here, she had tried to do a little updating, but the house had a weird vibe to it, and Kreacher tended to steal anything new.

"I'm in here, love," said a loud male voice. It was coming from the kitchen, and it was definitely not Harry. "I'm glad you're home because I'm desperate for an early dinner and some much-needed alone time."

There was a pause. "Harry, what are you doing?"

The door wrenched open, and Theodore Nott stood in the kitchen light. Kreacher was behind him, looking confused.

"Hi, sorry. I'm not Harry." Hermione swallowed.

"Not Harry," Kreacher repeated.

"Oh, fuck," said Theo.

“Miss Hermione Granger,” Kreacher called out to no one in particular. Theo frowned at him and then rallied.

He smiled, a blush blazing along his cheeks. “Come in and have a drink. Fancy a glass of Chablis? Kreacher, would you mind? Thank you.”

Hermione followed Theo into the kitchen.

“Thanks - it hasn’t changed in here…” It was the same shabby table and pre-war kitchen equipment that Kreacher maintained vigorously.

“Can it change? I’m pretty sure Kreacher has warded the whole place so it never changes.'' Theo half whispered as Kreacher mooched off to the fridge.

Hermione smiled at Theo, he was another six-footer, like Draco, but he was slimmer and a beautiful man. He looked very handsome in smart trousers, a shirt, and a jumper. His whole outfit screamed expensive.

He smelled divine.

“I’m guessing you have some questions? Please, take a seat,” Theo gestured at the table, and they sat together. Kreacher placed a wine goblet in front of both of them. They murmured their thanks as he shuffled off.

“Oh, no, Theo, it really isn’t my… I just… God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just walked in like that.” She rolled her eyes at her inability to speak. She was trying hard not to offend Theo.

“Hermione, he’s your best friend. You lived here for years, for goodness sake. I think you’re allowed to waltz in like you own the place.” Theo smirked.

Hermione laughed. And then recalled what he said.

Best friend? Not really, not anymore.

“You are being very lovely. Thank you. So, what are you up to these days?” She asked him and took a gulp of her wine.

Theo sighed, “I’m a bit of a saddo, unfortunately. Jobless, if you don’t count the charity work I do with Narcissa. Just a rich toff who waits around for his boyf - er, friend to get home.”

Hermione swallowed another sip of wine. It really was very nice. Harry and Theo, that was… unexpected. But she didn’t know Harry anymore. She wondered how it happened. Why hadn’t Harry talked to her?

“Oh, that’s good, though. I mean with Narcissa. I have heard about the great work she does. She’s gone into full-on philanthropy mode. The work she did for St Mungo’s was truly amazing. I volunteer every now and then, and seeing the new wards was magical. The patients and staff were so happy.”

“Yes, between the two of us, we are ensuring that every magical person with money hands it over to those in need. I’m learning, but Merlin, that woman can wrangle galleons out of the tightest of wizards.”

Hermione snorted.

There was a door slam in the hall, and they looked over at the closed kitchen door.

“Theo! Are you here? God, I hope you’re here. I’ve had the worst fucking day…” There was another crash; Theo got up and stood frozen.

“Why do we have a fucking brolly stand? THEO! Merlin, I need a hug… Hang on, I’m just having a full-on fight with the hat stand… I swear to Godric, this fucking stuff is being binned, and we are going to IKEA over the weekend.”

Theo looked sardonically at Hermione and murmured. “John Lewis, obvs.”

She giggled.

Harry finally entered the kitchen and opened his mouth, saw Hermione, and promptly shut it again.

“Hi,” she said softly.

Harry waved. He looked at Theo. “Have you…?”

Theo shook his head.

Harry walked over to Theo, kissed him lightly on the mouth, and turned back to Hermione. He took a deep breath. “Theo is my boyfriend.”

Hermione smiled and raised her glass. “No shit.”

They grinned at her.

Harry came over to her, she stood up, and they hugged hard. “I’m sorry about earlier. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Hermione felt tears in her eyes. “Me, too. I’ve missed you.”

A myriad of emotions almost buckled her knees, and she held him tightly. She was proud of him for allowing himself to be happy again. The break-up with Ginny had been hard on him. Sorrow for what she had missed, guilt for not being there for him. They’d never really had a conversation about preference, but coming out in any community was tough. He’d needed her, and she hadn’t been available.

She knew she had been busy. Work was tough. It was ongoing, there was always so much to do, and her department had various projects they were juggling. Harry’s job was just as intense, but he always seemed happier. He was in a relationship, for a start. Hermione was very much single and counted the late nights she spent eating takeaway and working with her team as social engagements.

She thought back to their last get-together… maybe at Christmastime when Ron had them all over for drinks? Surely not. They must have seen each other in between? But she knew that they hadn’t. She’d had coffee with Ron’s wife, Verity, but that had been it.

Harry had asked her to a few nights out. He sent messages asking her to dinner. He had tried, but she had kept turning him down.

They all sat down again, and Theo put an arm nonchalantly behind Harry’s chair. Harry leaned in.

Why had she not wanted to spend time with him?

“So, you were saying you’d had a bad day?” Theo's hand absently smoothed down Harry’s hair.

Harry looked far better than she’s seen him in a while. He was groomed. Wearing nice clothes, had better glasses on, and a nicer haircut.

She had been so enraged earlier she hadn’t even noticed.

“Not to be insensitive, but I want to hear about how you both met. Would you mind telling me?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, I will!” Theo replied excitedly. Kreacher topped up their wine and bought Harry a bottle of beer. Harry took it with thanks.

“Maybe I should tell it. I think H would like a factual account,” Harry suggested with an arched eyebrow.

Theo gasped. “How dare you? I am the literal embodiment of truth and honesty...”

Harry took a sip and sniggered into his beer.

“Six long years ago, when Harry was already taken by another, we were introduced at a pub,” Theo began.

“The Golden Lamb,” Harry said.

“Don’t interrupt! Yes, at the Golden Lamb. Now, as you know, Hermione, officially, we all knew each other as old school rivals. So, this is a true enemies to lovers story. At first, Harry was cordial and kept me very much at arm’s length, no matter how much I flirted with him.”

“To be fair, I was in a relationship, and you flirted with everyone,” Harry countered.

Theo rolled his eyes.

“That is utter bollocks. Anyway, we circled each other like two sleek panthers. The Golden Boy and the badass Slytherin striving towards a tentative friendship that could break at any moment. We nurtured this delicate bloom, encouraging it to grow into this spectacular…”

“Basically, after about five and a half years of friendship and some serious flirting, and soul searching on my part, I finally flirted back enough that Theo pounced on me.”

“Fucks sake, Harry, that sounds like assault.” Theo covered his face.

“You are a ‘badass Slytherin,’” Harry gently removed his hands and kissed one before placing it on his thigh. “And I really wanted you to make the first move.”

“Were you scared?” asked Hermione. “Sorry, that’s an awful question…”

“I was shitting myself. I wasn’t even sure what my feelings were. I just knew that I thought about Theo all the time. He made my heart jump out of my chest. I was terrified he’d meet someone else. It was confusing as hell, as I’d always thought I was straight.”

Theo squeezed his leg affectionately. “I just wanted to get off with a celebrity.”

Hermione laughed. “I hope someone feels like that about me.”

“I’d always fancied him. All my friends at school knew and were hopelessly disappointed by it. I nearly beheaded Parkinson in the Great Hall… I was so scared.” Theo visibly shook himself. He took a big gulp of wine.

“Daft sod, she’s apologised a million times.”

“I’m so happy for you both; it’s lovely news. Does Ron know?” Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. “Sorry, H, we met up a couple of months ago. The four of us went out to dinner. I did invite you…”

“I know, sorry. I’ve been such a shitty friend.”

Harry ignored the last comment because, really, what could he say? She had been an awful friend.

“What happened with Mike?” he asked gently.

“Oh, please, let's not go there. We’ll need far more of this,” Hermione shook her goblet slightly, “and I want to hear more about you guys. I’m living vicariously. There’s just this lovely glow around you both.”

“Yeah, sure, but another time, yeah? I do want to know.” Harry looked intently at her.

She nodded. “Yeah, definitely. So, who reintroduced you back at the pub? Who do we need to thank for getting this thing going all those years ago?”

“Me,” said a voice at the kitchen door. For the second time that day, Hermione jumped out of her skin as Malfoy leaned nonchalantly on a door frame.

“Jesus, fuck,” Hermione said as she tried to catch her breath.

“Mr. Malfoy has arrived,” Kreacher said helpfully, conjuring a bottle of beer, which Draco accepted as he sauntered past and fell into a chair. Could he not just sit normally?

He was in more muggle clothing: light blue jeans, boots, and a jumper. Hermione eyed his thighs before wrenching her gaze away. She straightened in her own chair and pulled down her cardigan.

“Jesus, fuck indeed, Draco. Could you not just let us know that you were coming?”

“Nott, I always announce when I’m coming - that’s just having manners… but, sometimes, I do get a little caught up.” He smiled at all of them and then swigged his beer.

“Well, that’s a resounding endorsement,” Theo wrinkled his nose. “Pass.”

“Granger, you can credit this whole beautiful, ‘glowy’ thing here as all my doing.” Malfoy gestured at both Harry and Theo.

Harry grinned at him. “You told me to stay away from Theo and not allow him to pass me any drinks I hadn’t checked first.”

“You absolute shit, Draco, you didn’t say that?”

“Theo, you were a bit perverted about Harry back in the day. You had several pictures in that journal of yours and we all know what you did to them. Harry was a new friend of mine. I didn’t want you to wreck it. You get too flustered and excited around him.”

“You are the worst friend and none of that is true.”

Harry leant over and kissed him. “I like that you had wank pictures of me.”

Theo snorted. “I didn’t. That idiot lies habitually.”

“Stop pulling at this - I keep gawping at your chest!” Draco pulled on Hermione’s cardigan and nearly made her spill her wine. “Who’s Mike?”

Hermione swallowed and put her goblet down. “No touching!”

Draco raised both his hands in defence. “Answer the question!”

“Ex-boyfriend,” she replied simply.

“Ow,” Malfoy looked under the table. “Who’s kicking?”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“It was just a question. Granger doesn’t mind, do you?”

Hermione turned to face him. “I do, actually.”

“Look, sweetheart, if you break into someone's house, that person gets to ask you questions you’d rather not answer.”

“You broke into his house?” Theo asked.

“Technically, it wasn’t breaking in. Harry gave me his floo password.”

Theo looked at Harry.

“Wait, there’s a reason for all of this and…”

“Yes, do tell us, Harry. Please, let me know why you let someone I hardly know break into my house?” Draco leaned on the table and gave Harry a very sarcastic smile.

“I think ‘hardly know’ is a bit rich. We’ve known each other for twenty years,” Hermione countered.

“In that case, tell me about Mike?”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I know that Mike is a muggle!” Theo announced and then looked incredibly guilty.

Hermione stared at him.

Theo winced and mouthed ‘sorry’.

“‘Mike the Muggle,’ how interesting. Now, tell me all about his wand work, or lack thereof.”

“Malfoy…” Harry warned.

Hermione downed the rest of the wine and stood up. “Theo, Harry, thanks so much for a lovely evening. I’m so happy for you both. But I do need to get going.”

“Hermione, please don’t go… Ignore him. The rest of us do.”

Malfoy swigged his beer.

“Draco, you insufferable twat. Apologise!” Theo was outraged. Hermione walked around the table and kissed his cheek, then hugged Harry.

“I really do need to go,” she murmured to them both. “See you soon, yeah?”

Hermione walked out the kitchen towards the front door.

Draco came running behind her.

“Listen…” he began.

“You don’t need to say anything. I’m not bothered about what you said. I do really need to go. I have things to do before the morning. Sorry about breaking into your house.”

She turned back and strode defiantly out the door, disapparating neatly.

Chapter Text

“Aaaagghhhh! Why do I keep letting her walk away?” Draco shouted in the hallway.

She was insufferable. He had questions for her and it had been kismet to find her at Harry's. Then, she gets in a strop and runs off.

He would interrogate Potter instead.

“I think it’s about ‘this’ big,” Theo said from the kitchen, holding his hands about a foot apart. “And it sways to and fro when she walks.”

“Huh?”

“The reason that you keep letting her walk away - you like watching her luscious butt.”

“What?! Shut the fuck up, Theo. Where’s that speccy idiot? He has some explaining to do.”

Draco barged past Theo into the kitchen.

Shit! He was very much hoping Theo hadn’t noticed the extent of his ogling at Granger’s arse.

“Will Mister Malfoy be staying for dinner?” Kreacher asked.

“Yes!” Draco said at the same time as Theo said, “No.”

Kreacher looked at Harry for confirmation. Harry nodded.

“Oh, for fucks sake, Draco, I never get Harry to myself anymore. Why are you here?”

“Business, Nott. Something you know little about.”

“Well, his office hours are between eight and six.” Theo made a point of looking at his very expensive watch. “It’s six thirty, so get lost.”

Draco looked over Theo’s shoulder. “Looks like a replica to me. You’ve been ripped off, mate.”

Theo gasped.

Harry picked up his beer and Theo’s wine. “Let's go through to the lounge so Kreacher doesn’t chuck something at us whilst he cooks.”

“Very good, Master,” Kreacher replied, firing up the ovens. “Dinner in forty-five minutes.”

“Another one of these, please, Kreacher?” asked Draco, shaking his empty bottle.

Kreacher conjured him one, and Draco took it whilst he followed Harry and Theo through to the first floor.

“I have to say, I love it when you both fight over me,” Harry said as he got comfy on the sofa. Theo threw himself down next to Harry, popping his legs into Harry’s lap.

“Your feet are huge,” remarked Draco to Theo, ignoring Harry’s ridiculous remark.

Theo winked. “Harry has no complaints.”

Harry laughed.

“Look, just so you know, your happiness is not contagious; it's stupid. You both look stupid and you don’t glow.”

They both gave Draco the two finger salute.

He smiled.

Their happiness was contagious, really. Draco found that he was drawn to the pair; he liked hanging out with them, because seeing them happy made him happy.

Theo had been so shy back at school. Being in Slytherin House had been hard for him. Draco had tried to protect him as best he could. Still, as Theo had been a giant nerd with no political ambition and most of the time beamed like a jar of fucking sunshine - it had been tough.

He distantly remembered telling Theo to stop fucking smiling at school. He was still bossy with him now; they'd known each other since they were babies. Even later on, when they were teenagers and Theo had come out, Draco felt increasingly protective.

As soon as Harry had properly met Theo, he felt like he had another ally. Harry immediately realised how important Theo was and stood on his other side. Between the pair of them - he knew Theo would be safe.

“So, how was the break-in?” Harry asked, taking a sip of beer.

“Annoying. What on earth is her problem? She was rifling through my files. I caught her red-handed. She wasn’t even apologetic.”

“Where were your files?”

Draco looked out the dark window and murmured, “Locked away.”

Harry face-palmed.

“Mate, I’ve told you a million times to lock your shit away. That’s why I got you that cabinet. All of those documents are classified.”

“Harry, I think we have bigger problems right now…”

“What - apart from basic security?” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Why did you tell her about…” Draco looked at Theo. “About my assignment?”

Theo knew a bit about what Draco did. He knew he wasn’t an accountant, but Harry had explained patiently that what Draco did for the DMLE was top secret. Although they spoke openly to a point, Theo knew very little overall.

Harry sighed and put a hand on Theo’s leg. “She wrote it. The project was all her idea, initially.”

Draco nearly spat out his beer. “Granger?”

Harry nodded.

Of course, she did! Of course, she wrote the project that had turned the tide on the ongoing dark wizard problem. Project X3541 was the reason why half of the evil fuckers in the wizarding world were in Azkaban. It was the reason why they were winning. The Ghost did a very good job of scaring the shit out of anyone who had a habit of leaning toward the criminal side of life.

Well, he thought. I called it. Scariest woman ever.

Draco frowned suddenly. “Why does she have a problem with it? Am I the problem?”

“In a way, yeah.”

Draco opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again.

“D, she’s worried about you. She thinks you’re the wrong fit for the assignment because of all the stuff that happened when you were a kid. She worries that you’re traumatised.”

“How condescending is that? She can get fucked. She was horrifically bullied at school and then had to defeat a dark lord. Let's see how she likes being told she can’t do her job.”

“Draco! You’re the one who bullied her!” scoffed Theo.

“I am aware, Theo, you don’t need to remind me,” Draco rubbed his eyes and looked at Harry. “I bullied Harry, too, and we’re best friends now, aren’t we, Harry?”

Harry grinned. “That we are, mate.”

“And I gave him you.”

“Gave me? That’s nice.” Theo wrinkled his nose.

“Draco, we reworked the project after she completed it. We tailored it to your personality so it suited you better. She doesn’t know. She thinks she’s sent you into another prison environment.”

“But I’m fine! She’s seen me now. I’m fine!”

“You could be acting, for all she knows.”

“Fucks sake, fucking Granger. Got her freckly little nose in everything.”

Theo raised his eyebrows.

“What?” Draco pointed at him.

“Nothing!” Theo shrugged.

Fucking Theo and his stupid eyebrows.

“What do I do?” Draco asked Harry.

“Nothing, mate, I'll sort it out with her. And, well done on that work this morning. Great job. Shacklebolt was over the moon.”

Draco nodded, pleased with the praise. Harry was a good boss.

“Fuck me, Harry.” Draco pulled out a cushion from behind him and punted it across the room. “These sofas are so uncomfortable.”

***

Hermione came into work after a crap night's sleep, with heavy steps and bags under her eyes. She inhaled a croissant from the cafeteria as she levitated two lattes up the stairs. She nudged her office door open with her hip and placed the coffees on her desk.

Dropping her bag, she eased herself into her chair and let her head fall lightly onto the top of her desk.

Last night was emotional.

She was sad that she hadn’t been around to see Harry’s happiness. It made her stomach hurt that she hadn’t shared in his joy of meeting Theo or been there for him to talk through his feelings with her.

And Theo! Theo was the embodiment of a warm hug. He had made her feel so welcome.

She sighed - she just felt like she was the shittest of friends.

Her guilt had consumed her most of the night. Her brain went on overload, trying to work out when she stopped wanting to spend time with Harry, or Ron, for that matter.

When Ginny ended the relationship, Harry had been devastated. They’d been together for so long and seemed so in love. But Ginny had admitted that she was unhappy. She didn’t want to be a DMLE official or work for the Ministry - she wanted to see the world. Live in Brazil, hop over to Argentina, party in Mexico - see the wizarding world her way.

Harry was settled, he didn’t want to go. He could only offer her the promise of nice holidays.

Ginny said her goodbyes not long after. That was, maybe, three years ago?

When Ron had told her about the split - Harry hadn’t been around for the first week. He’d been in France or somewhere with a work colleague. Everyone assumed he’d met someone else, but the reality was he had just been drunk the whole time.

Was it after that, maybe? When she dropped them all. Maybe even before. When Hermione had moved out of Grimmauld, perhaps?

She had just felt a little relieved at the time. Like she wanted to concentrate on her life. Like this was her time.

Still, it wasn’t something she was proud of.

Hermione looked up as a paper aeroplane flew down onto her in-tray. She recognised the scrawl and smiled.

H,

The new beta test for our latest product has come in. Can you swing by at lunch?

Yours,

Georgie Boy

She grabbed a piece of parchment and wrote him a note back.

Georgie-Boy,

See you at 1pm.

With regards,

Her’royal-highness’mione

She’d just rolled the scroll and popped it in her out tray when Alice came in.

She fell into the other seat, grabbed her coffee, and propped her Doc Martens up on Hermione’s desk.

“So, how is Draco Malfoy?” Alice said after a sip of coffee

Hermione frowned at her, “How did you- ?”

“Well, firstly, I was trained by you, and, secondly, the minute I got this job, Mum and I screamed for a full minute.”

“And by that you mean?”

“Hermione, I was twelve when the war was happening. We read between the lines of the Daily Prophet and realised that The Golden Trio were winning the war. We listened to the radio program and knew we were in safe hands. We also knew it was mostly because of how amazing you were.”

“That's nice to hear,” Hermione said awkwardly.

“Oh, don’t blush, I’ve heard you fart. The hero worship has definitely worn off.”

“Alice, that was once! And I was very gassy that day.”

Alice laughed. “You're telling me! Anyway, the rivalry between you and the Malfoys was very newsworthy. When you testified for him, it was pretty dazzling.”

Alice handed over a clipping for her to see - the Daily Prophet’s take on the courtroom events for that day.

Hermione took it gently. There was a photo of Draco in the cage, in the middle of the courtroom… God, his face. The picture showed him blinking slowly and swallowing nervously. He looked like death. He looked like there was no hope.

She glanced at her own picture and snorted. She looked so imperious, so defiant, so young. The photo showed her holding up a finger, making point after point.

She remembered her eyes darting over to him as she briefed the room with her testimony. Whilst she talked, the hopelessness had lifted. Life gently sparkled in his eyes.

Hermione blinked and looked back at Alice.

“You identified him from this?” She handed the clipping back.

Alice placed the clipping on her desk. “Yes, I’d know that guy anywhere. Looks like a fallen angel there,” she nodded at the picture.

Hermione glanced back at the photo and cocked her head. He did look a bit like that.

“So, I did a bit of digging…” Alice began.

“Splendid. Gimme.” Hermione started to feel better.

Alice’s information matched some of what Harry had already told her. Plus, she still had Draco’s file, so it was easier to match the cases that project X3541 had been a part of.

“It’s not well known at all, but you know how we’ve heard chatter of The Ghost? I think it might be him, Hermione. The footage we were looking at was Operation P&M. Look, the timelines all match up. Matty, from the Auror department, gave me the heads up. Our team even gave them some of the info for this. It’s part of that manticore kidnapping we stumbled across.”

Hermione nodded. “The attack on the muggle park being a distraction?”

“Yep, what were they distracting us from?”

Hermione scratched her chin.

“Can you get everyone on it? Look at the geographical area, radius of maybe five miles. We’ll flush the info out that way. Look at all angles.”

Alice grabbed her coffee and stood up. “No probs. See you at lunch?”

Hermione shook her head and then pushed her hair out of her face. “I’m off to see George.”

“Ooh, new prototype?” Alice smiled excitedly.

Hermione nodded with a grin.

“Say hi to him from me,” Alice waggled her eyebrows.

“He’s too old for you!”

“He may be old, but he’s sexy.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose.

“A funny man is sexy. That is just a fact.” Alice grinned and walked out.

***

Hermione walked down Diagon Alley, returning a few smiles and waves but mostly keeping her head down. She passed Flourish and Blotts and refrained from just ‘popping in’. Her hands literally clenched when she walked by.

George’s shop stood on the corner, and she laughed at the new addition to the outside roof.

A rabbit farting fireworks.

She pushed the door open and ducked just as a toy broom whizzed past her, flying straight out the door.

“Don’t worry, Sweetpea,” George was saying to a little girl. “Here’s a brand new one. No charge,” he added to the grown-up standing beside the girl.

George acknowledged Hermione and held up a finger. She nodded and started browsing the aisles.

The shop had grown over the years. It was almost the size of a warehouse these days. George had a gaggle of teenagers working for him, and they encouraged kids to play with all of the free stuff. Everybody always walked out with something. Rich or poor. George’s staff were trained to ensure that every kid got something.

He was the most generous person she knew.

The man in question grabbed her and squeezed the life out of her. “Alright, Princess!” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey!” She smiled, hugging him back.

He grabbed her hand and led her out to the back.

“How have you been? You look like death.”

“Thanks. We can’t all be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed like you.”

“Cos I’m foxy?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes, with bad breath and gammy teeth.”

“Fuck off!” George grumbled.

“Actually, Alice told me to say hi to you.”

“Did she? Little minx - how old is she?”

“Too young for you,” Hermione sat on a stool in the workshop.

“Are we a hundred percent confirmed on that? She’s extremely pretty.” George leaned on a high table with a box in front of him.

“Yes, don’t be a creepy old man.”

George looked nonplussed.

“George, show me!”

A slow grin appeared on George’s face. “Check this out.” He opened the box and took out two similar leather-strapped watches. One was green, and the other red. They had the Hogwarts houses on them.

He handed one to Hermione. “Why do I get Slytherin?”

George ignored her.

“Ready?”

He placed his wand on the face, and it shimmered to life. ‘Hello, George’ appeared briefly, then disappeared, and a normal watch face appeared. A nighttime sky and sunshine split down the centre, shared the watch face

Hermione did the same, ‘Hello, Hermione.’ She squealed.

George double-tapped the screen, and a ghostly scroll appeared above the watch with several different phrases and sentences. George chose ‘You stink’ and then sent the message.

Hermione’s watch lit up with a message.

She tapped the watch, and the face changed again. ‘From George, ‘you stink’.’

Hermione laughed with delight. “I can’t believe it!”

“Pretty cool, huh?”

“God, the magic was tough to work out for this one. I'm so glad we did it. What’s the range like?’

“We need to test it out. For these? We are thinking up to two miles, mainly because of the grounds at Hogwarts. But Shacklebolt wants a version for the Auror department.”

Hermione shrugged. “He’ll have to pay for it. Did you tell him I was involved?”

“No, of course not. I take all the credit.”

Hermione smiled. “Good. These are great, George.”

“I’ll get the staff to try them out over the next week, and then we can look at making a couple hundred for the first run.”

“Sounds good. Just make sure all the safety features are in place. Children wearing a magic watch is a dangerous game. They’ve got to be a hundred percent safe.”

“I know the rules, H. Chill out.”

She gave him her best McGonagall ‘look’.

“Fucks sake, I’ll double check everything, Mum,” he walked round the table and gathered her to him. “C’mon and get some lunch with me.”

Being hugged by George was magic in itself.

Chapter Text

Harry leaned over to the bedside table and fumbled for the phone making an awful noise at - he squinted at the clock - six thirty in the morning.

“Hello?” Harry croaked as he sat up and shoved his glasses on.

“You said “I’ll handle it” - It’s not fucking handled, Harry. She keeps apparating into my missions.”

“Draco, are you talking about Hermione?”

“Yes!” Draco hissed down the phone. “The worst witch. She’s fucking up my missions. I’m supposed to be working undercover, Harry. That’s pretty fucking difficult when the most famous witch since Morgan Le Fay turns up in the middle of the street.”

“I’ve already spoken to her... “

“And you can tell her from me that a baseball cap and sunglasses do not make her invisible!”

Harry held the phone away from his ear. “Draco, can you turn down the volume…”

“I’ve gotta go; my latte is ready… Does that say Dan?! Looks like Din. Harry, you tell her to stay away, I’m not kidding! Also, tell Theo I’m not going to that Charity Ball - he can tell Narcissa too.”

Draco hung up.

Harry rubbed his face and replaced the phone on the bedside table.

He got back into bed, and Theo instantly snuggled into his side. Harry wrapped his arms around him.

“Draco says he’s not going to the ball,” Harry murmured, kissing his forehead.

“I heard,” Theo replied in a sleepy voice. He yawned deeply. “I have a sneaky little idea though.”

“Mmm-hmm?”

“Let’s invite Hermione to the ball.” Theo said, planting a kiss on Harry’s chest. He looked up at him. “And guest.”

Harry smirked at him. “You’re evil. He’ll hate that.”

“Just casually drop it into conversation. No, wait! I’ll employ Narcissa!”

Harry laughed. He was surrounded by Slytherins these days - it was nicer than he imagined.

***

Draco sat astride his broom, ten metres off the ground. Blaise hovered next to him, both of them in practice Quidditch gear. They watched as Cormac McLaggen got carried off the pitch by another team member.

“Do you think we were a little rough?” Zabini asked whilst spinning his bat.

They looked at each and laughed.

“What a twat,” Draco muttered, watching McLaggen groan as they moved him.

He swung his legs a little, getting some feeling back into them. “Remember Granger?”

Blaise looked at him. “Hermione? One-third of the Golden Trio? Bullied by you? Order of Merlin? Defeated Voldemort? Tortured by your aunt? Robbed a bank on the back of a dragon? That Granger?”

Draco side-eyed him. “Yes.”

“I do vaguely recall her, yes.”

“Have you seen her recently?”

A slow smile spread across Blaise's face. “Yes, I have, my friend.”

“What does that mean?”

Blaise popped the bat under his arm and put his hands out, moving them around like he was caressing a cello.

“Need I say more?”

Draco frowned. “Yes, you do need to say more, Blaise; you need to apologise for a start.”

“To who?”

“Her! Just… stop objectifying her. Fuck sake, Blaise.”

“Fuck off, Malfoy! If you've seen her, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“She’s a person first, man. An incredibly intelligent witch.”

Blaise side-eyed Draco. Then he grinned at him.

“Why do you ask anyway?”

Draco looked back at him. “Well, I’m not telling you now, you lech.”

With a sly look in his eyes, Blaise moved his broom an inch or two away from Malfoy. “You know what? I’ve always wanted to fuck Granger…”

Then he flew away laughing.

Draco zoomed after Zabini on his broom, shouting. “You fucking dick!”

***

Hermione sat on her couch, hair piled up on her head, with her wand jabbed through. She felt comfy in her joggers and the ginormous hoodie that Mike had left (she’d stolen). Her laptop was positioned in front of her on the sofa. She was sitting in a way that would ensure she'd have immediate back problems before going to bed. One leg bent, one foot on the sofa with her knee stuffed in her armpit and her spine curved for maximum discomfort.

She copied the data from the spreadsheet she had compiled on her laptop, arranging the pivot table on the adjacent sheet to scan all the information thoroughly.

She huffed. It was what she had been expecting, but still frustrating.

Mindlessly bringing her cuff up to her mouth, she took a big sniff of Mike.

Damn, she’d washed the hoodie too much, and none of him was left.

Rubbing her tired eyes, Hermione leant back and stretched.

It was fine that things were over with Mike. They’d made the right decision. Mike was lovely, but he’d wanted to be a bigger part of her life. She’d been uncertain whether she wanted that level of commitment. Muggles and magic folk were allowed to be a couple, but the ministry only allowed them to ‘know’ the wizarding world when they fully committed.

She hadn’t been ready, and Mike was a clever guy - he knew something was going on. He had wanted answers, and settled on what any normal person would assume when their other half was acting suspiciously.

Hermione hadn’t corrected him. She’d let him walk away thinking the worst of her because it was easier.

As nice as their relationship had been, she needed something else.

She still didn’t know what that was.

Her fireplace gently hummed, the coals coming to life and pulsing in a few bursts.

Hermione manoeuvred her wand through her hair to point at the fire and cast the charm to accept the incoming floo call.

Harry's face appeared in the coals. “Hey, are you free? Can I come over?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Hermione tidied up her papers and shoved a few hundred books off her chairs in an attempt to clear the mess.

Harry stepped through her floo grate and brushed himself down. Hermione helped him before giving him a hug, “Sorry, I keep meaning to get the fireplace cleaned.”

Harry coughed a few times and said, “No problem,” in a croaky voice.

“Tea?” She asked him, wandering over to the window, opening it, and wafting the smoke away with a book.

“Can I grab some water?”

“Yeah, take a seat. I’ll get it.”

Hermione quickly filled a glass and headed back into the living room.

“So pleased you’re here,” she beamed at him, handing the drink over.

“I’m so glad you came over last week,” Harry said, pulling a book out from underneath him and popping it on the pile on the floor. “Honestly, Theo was so excited to get a bit of time with you. He’s been grilling me for months to get in contact.”

“God, Harry, it’s just so wonderful to see you happy,” she beamed at him. “And the lack of contact, well, that’s totally on me. I know you tried. You kept trying, and I just, I don’t know. I kept declining,” Hermione scratched her head and dislodged her wand. She popped it back in and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she said earnestly.

“You absolutely don’t need to say that, H. It’s been a wild ride, and I think we all needed to adjust after everything that happened. I mean, look at how different and complex our lives are. You’ve done nothing wrong. You needed time. If you still need it, that's fine too. I’ll always be here. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

“I’m ready, honestly, I’m ready!" she sniffed. Wiping a tear away. “You always make me emotional,” she laughed.

“That’s why I’m here, making chicks cry since 1995,”

Hermione laughed and wiped her face with her cuffs.

“Theo is ridiculously lovely. I’m so happy for you,” she said, getting comfortable and closing her laptop.

“He’s the reason I’m here, actually. He wanted me to give you this,” Harry took an invitation out of his pocket and handed it over. “It’s for the ball he’s hosting. Raising funds for all sorts of different charities.”

Hermione opened the beautiful ribbon that held the invite together, “You’ve forgotten what charity it is, haven’t you?”

Harry face-palmed. “Never, ever, tell him. He’s been working so hard. I know it’s something to do with people.”

“Oh my Godric, Harry, it's raising funds for obliviated survivors of the war.”

“Yes, like I said… people.”

She rolled her eyes but got distracted. “Ooh, I get to bring a guest?”

Harry nodded. “Theo said, anyone you like.”

Hermione scanned the information with a smile on her face.

“Do you think you will be bringing someone?” Harry asked in a strange voice.

She looked up sharply.

“Yes, weirdo.” she gave him a quick side-eye before looking back at the beautiful invitation. “I have someone in mind.”

Then she frowned. “Will Malfoy be there?”

“Err, no, he rarely ever comes. Hates the attention.”

“Great, I’ll be glad to attend. Let me reply now so you can take it to Theo,” Hermione grabbed a fountain pen, scribbled on the acceptance, and handed it over.

“Whilst we are on about Malfoy, did Shacklebolt talk to you?”

“Yes, he did, thank you. I can’t believe you did that. You’re such a grass these days.”

“I tried telling you and you weren’t listening!”

“I was listening, but I was still concerned. Nine years is a really long time to be on an assignment. Even you can admit that.”

“But Shacklebolt told you about the changes we made?”

“Yes, he told me. And I am starting to understand. I get that he’s not isolated, and you made the assignment more bespoke to him, but I still need to see his psych results, Harry. It’s important to me. I put a lot of work into the project, and its success relied on the recipient having a balanced mind. With Malfoy, his trauma enforces so much of his personality. I just need to check, but I will stay out of his way. I promise.”

“I get it, thanks, H.”

Harry stayed for another hour, and they chatted about their jobs and old times. Laughing with him was still as wonderful as it had always been.

It was a different friendship these days. A needed friendship but not a necessary one. It wasn’t a ‘life-threatening or preventing a world from ending’ friendship, just your average kind of friendship.

Hermione felt another little bit of weight lifted off her shoulders. She was getting back on track; she could feel it.

***

Draco stepped through the grate of his flat and frowned.

Somebody had tidied his living room. He silently padded into the room and listened. He could hear distant humming and… washing-up sounds.

Draco rolled his eyes and moved quietly across to the kitchen.

His mother, dressed in a Chanel two-piece and diamond drop earrings, was drying several of his plates whilst their house-elf Poppy washed them up.

“What now, Poppy?” Narcissa asked, with a hesitancy he rarely saw anymore.

“Now, Mistress puts them back in the cupboard,” the house-elf replied calmly.

“Of course, now where does this one go?” Narcissa began opening the nearest cupboard door.

“Bottom right,” Draco said from the doorway.

Narcissa nearly dropped the plate, but Poppy merely waved, flinging a bit of dishwater around.

“Draco, really,” Narcissa gasped for breath. “You’ve just taken nearly ten years off my life.”

He grinned at her and leaned in for a kiss on the cheek, simultaneously taking the plate and putting it away.

She grimaced because he was a bit sweaty from Quidditch practice.

“What’s this little domestic scene?” He asked, pulling himself up to sit on the kitchen counter.

“What do you mean? Mothers have been cleaning up after their sons for aeons.”

Draco made a face. “Not my mother.”

Narcissa flicked him with her tea towel. “In one way or another, believe me, I have.”

His mother looked him over properly and leaned over to touch his jaw. “Why do you always have bruises when I see you?”

“It was Zabini, Mom. I was defending a lady’s honour.”

“Don’t be silly. Blaise is the most perfect of gentlemen,” Narcissa admonished.

“Ha! Now who’s being silly,” Draco jumped down off the side. Grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and took a massive bite.

Narcissa followed him out of the room but stopped as he headed for his bedroom. “Darling, are you attending the Ball this weekend?”

“Merlin, no,” Jamming the apple in his mouth, he kicked the door half closed and stripped off his pads and Quidditch jersey.

“Ah, that is a shame,” Narcissa replied outside his bedroom door. “I was hoping you’d re-introduce me to Hermione Granger.”

Draco stopped and re-opened the door. He removed the apple from his gob, wiped his hand across his mouth and said, “What do you mean?”

“Well, Theo mentioned she’s attending with a date, so I was hoping to get a little time with her. You know I like to try to... well, make amends with all of your old school friends.”

“A date?” Draco frowned down at his mother. He felt a little discombobulated. “Who’s she bringing?”

“I’m not sure, darling; Theo just let me know that she had ticked the little box to say she was bringing one.”

Draco made a face. “I’ll be there. I’ll be bringing a date too.”

“Oh, you can't bring someone, darling, sorry. I don’t have any more available spaces.”

“Mother!” Draco was outraged. “I can’t turn up date-less.”

“I’ll be your date. It’ll be like old times. Now let’s not fuss. I arranged an appointment with Monsieur LeFoux for your tux; it’s tomorrow at 6. I'll see you at the weekend. All the details are on your invitation.”

Narcissa smiled as she walked back into the kitchen.

Chapter Text

Hermione and Alice arrived at Nott Manor at seven- thirty; Alice's mum had assured them this was the correct time etiquette - arriving half an hour after the proposed time.

Alice looked ultra chic in a yellow, off- the- shoulder sleek number, that enhanced her slim figure and showed gorgeous amounts of her ebony skin. With highlights of bright yellow eye makeup and her locs in the most epic updo, Hemione couldn’t seem to stop giving her compliments.

“Honestly, Alice, you are so beautiful. I don’t even think it’s the dress.”

“Stahp,” Alice said, waving her off. “And anyway, look at you, you sexy bitch.”

Hermione did primp a little. She felt pretty sexy. She’d bought the dress when she’d attended a black-tie event with Mike, but who says dresses were only meant to be worn once? It was a red bandeau number, with some epic bone support that held up her boobs and gave her fantastic cleavage.

The dress then ran down her body, moulding to her hips and bum, but thankfully, with some dress magic, it somehow drew attention elsewhere and made her feel less self-conscious of her squidgy stomach.

It was weird. Hermione never cared about her soft tummy until she had a ‘do’ to go to. Why did tummies suddenly become a thing when you were getting dressed up or going to the beach? People knew you had them. Why did they magically need to disappear when it was a special event?

It was physically attached to you - where was it supposed to go?

Hermione admired her shoes for a moment; they were sparkly, silver, high heels. They had a shoe comfort charm that she would need to replenish later.

So far, so good.

She’d carefully done a smokey eye that had taken several attempts, had spent a while relaxing her curls so they hung down her back but had put the right side up in a sparkly clip.

Alice and Hermione linked arms to enter the beautiful old house. Hermione was surprised at how light the manor was, but she looked up to see the most spectacular chandelier in the entrance hall. There was a huge staircase in front of them, but people were being herded to the ballroom.

The room was ginormous with, more chandeliers, elegant dining tables, a dancefloor, and, passing waiting staff holding flutes of champagne. Theo and Narcissa had done a wonderful job.

Alice grabbed two glasses, when a waitress passed by.

“H, let's just down these for Dutch courage.”

Hermione nodded. She suddenly felt really nervous. This place was opulent. It was a new world, and Hermione was a little thrown. She took a big gulp of her drink.

Theo came out of nowhere looking ridiculously handsome in a tuxedo. Alice’s eyes were huge.

“Darling! How are you?” He leaned in to kiss her cheeks and then pulled away, holding onto her forearms. “Sweet Salazar, Hermione, you look sexy AF.”

“Thanks, Theo, so do you!”

“I know! Is this your date?” Theo turned expectantly to Alice. “Hi, I’m Theo,” he leaned in to kiss her. “You have just managed to knock the society witches into a frenzy. You’re beautiful. Do you have an awful personality?”

Alice grinned. “Yes, I’m a data analyst too, so I can bore you to death within minutes.”

Theo laughed. “Thank Godric; there’d be no hope for the rest of us.”

“Theo, this is Alice. We work together.”

They smiled at each other.

“Let me show you to your table,” he took both their arms and chatted about the event as he walked them over to an ostentatiously looking circular table. “You’re sitting with Harry and me. This is the command centre as well, so we’ll be inundated with people swishing back and forth… ah, you’ll have to forgive me. Narcissa is signalling.” Theo waved at Mrs. Malfoy and walked away.

Alice sat down and fanned herself. “I mean, he must be a model. He’s not real.”

“Lucky Harry, right?”

“I am lucky. Are we talking about Theo?” Harry appeared, giving Hermione a kiss. “Hi Alice, how are you getting on at work?”

Alice started chatting to Harry about some of her projects, and Hermione listened, while sipping her drink and laughing at the anecdotes they shared.

Her eyes were drawn around the room and the groups of rich witches and wizards that were chatting and enjoying themselves. She spotted George and grinned at him. He was in conversation with some old friends but still winked at her and nodded his head toward Alice.

She shook her head. No way, Georgie-boy.

George narrowed his eyes and then grinned, nodding slowly.

She rolled her eyes, the motion moving her gaze across the room.

Suddenly, there, with his hands in his pockets, was Draco Malfoy, looking hot as sin.

Her mouth instantly went dry. He was glaring at her.

Tall, blonde, and impossibly attractive in a tuxedo.

Why was he here?

And why was he glaring at her?

She raised her eyebrows in silent challenge. He shook himself suddenly and began to march over.

Shit! Her heartbeat raised dramatically, and her skin felt like whispers.

Luckily, Ron entered her line of vision with his wife, Verity, who looked gorgeous in plum- coloured silk.

“Hi!” Hermione cried, a little over- enthusiastically and threw herself at them.

“Steady on, ‘Mione.” Ron said, catching her.

She ignored him and concentrated on Verity. “I’m crap, I know, so sorry I haven’t been over. How are you? How are the little ones?”

“Fine!” Said Verity with a beaming smile, “Hermione, you look absolutely fantastic! How are you? We’re all fine. Ron’s in the off- season, so he’s cluttering up the place…”

“Charming,” replied Ron with a wrinkled nose.

Hermione took a second to see where Malfoy was. She scanned quickly and was grateful to see he’d diverted to the bar. Thank God.

“He’s supposed to be sorting out the shed and the greenhouse… I’m telling you now, that’ll be my job when the kids are at school.” Verity laughed and took a sip of her drink.

“Breadwinner,” Ron pointed to himself, as if that settled everything and then smiled. “I’ve got Dad coming tomorrow to help me get started, babe. Would I let you down?”

She narrowed her eyes but was smiling.

“How was the season, Ron?” Hermione asked.

“Amazing, we’ve got this incredible Beater from Nepal. That dude can swing, man. Anyway, it means that we’re doing great in the league. How’s stuff with you? Still got stuff to analyse?”

She shoved him. “Yes, funnily enough, there is still stuff to analyse.”

He laughed, “Good for you.”

It was not long after that, that everyone sat down for dinner. A delicious three -course meal arrived, and Hermione and Alice chatted with Harry and Theo throughout the dinner. Hermione liked Theo more and more. She realised he was incredibly smart but had no interest in pursuing anything academic. He liked what he did with Narcissa and then being around to look after Harry.

She loved that about him most of all.

After the plates were cleared, the auction began. Several donated pieces sold for remarkable amounts of money. Someone paid a fortune for a pensieve, another paid the equivalent of the mortgage on her flat, for an antique clock that supposedly belonged to Helga Hufflepuff.

The dining tables were magically removed not long after, and the band appeared. Lights were lowered, the music began, and people took to the dancefloor.

Hermione felt, rather than saw, George approach.

“Ladies,” he murmured. “You look wonderful. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you.” He was looking directly at Alice as he said it.

“Hi, George,” she breathed.

“Let's dance,” he took her hand and led her away. Alice turned around with wide eyes and an excited face as she was led to the floor.

Hermione sighed. That little shit.

How much should she be worried about this?

She weighed it all up.

George was lovely, kind, generous, and sweet but at least eight years older than Alice.

Alice was a grown adult, she was working and living in her own place with a flatmate. She was gorgeous and nice. Hermione was her boss, not her Mum.

Was this something to worry about?

As she continued to chew her lip, a low voice spoke directly in her ear.“You look like you’re scheming.”

A lazy shiver ran over her body.

She turned fully and nearly rammed herself into Draco’s face; he'd leant down to speak to her.

“Oh Christ,” she pushed herself off him, but he steadied her with his arms.

“Whoah, Granger. It’s not that kind of night.”

Tall, so tall.

Smells nice.

Coherent thoughts, that was a good start.

Warm hands.

Handsome but looks cross.

Momentarily, Draco’s eyes flicked down to her cleavage. He pulled his lips inside his mouth.

“Dancing,” he said suddenly, with a frown.

“Huh?”

“We are,” he grabbed her hand and started walking.

“Malfoy, wait! I’m wearing heels. Hold on...”

He slowed and then released the tight squeeze he had on her hand. His touch became much more gentle. He rubbed a thumb inside her palm.

What the hell was happening?

***

Draco wasn’t even sure what song was playing. He pulled Granger gently into his arms, laying his one hand on the soft, bare skin above the back of her dress, and pressed her into his torso. Her other hand was in his own, he held it lightly against his chest. He swayed automatically to the beat.

The heels made her a little more accessible. She reached his chin. He was staring down at her, but she was looking over his shoulder with an intense look on her face.

The dress. Oh, the dress.

Red? Really?

Sweet, sweet Salazar. The smell of her, the feel of her. Fuck, what was happening?

He’d basically accosted her. He hadn’t even asked her to dance.

She moved well, the little minx.

Did the dress matter? Probably not. It was the… everything. Her skin, her freckles, her hair, her laugh, her face, her eyes, her stupidly soft figure.

God, those fucking curves. He adjusted his hand and smoothed it as far as he dared down her back. Not to her arse but just decently to the small of her back.

That was safe, right?

She tensed and looked up at him. He raised the corner of his mouth slightly and tried to look nonchalant.

She narrowed her eyes.

He blinked prettily.

She smirked and looked away.

Charmed, just like that.

Score one for Malfoy.

He suddenly felt her small hand move across his back, and slowly down to the top of his arse.

He looked down; she looked up nonchalantly.

He narrowed his eyes.

She blinked prettily.

One all.

He pulled out a show- stopper move. Spinning her out, the delight as her eyes widened when she span across the floor.

Then back in, close to his body, the smell of her surrounding him, the soft huff as she bounced lightly back into him.

And finally, he lowered her, leaning over her body, her hair draping the floor. Her eyes connected with his, trust, excitement, disbelief.

He bought her back up, and she giggled.

He smiled at her. “Merlin, look at Theo,” he nodded in Theo’s direction and turned her, so she could see. “Now that he knows you can dance, he’ll be interrupting as soon as this song is finished.”

“Does he not dance with Harry?”

“Granger, who wants to dance with Harry? Love him, yes. But he dances with as much grace as a three-year-old.”

Another giggle. That was two.

“Why were you glaring at me earlier?” Hermione asked him.

Oh yes, that reminded him.

“Who are you here with?” He frowned at her.

“That’s why you were glaring at me? Because you don’t like Alice?”

“Alice? Who’s Alice?”

Hermione stuck her finger in his back.

“Hey,” Draco moved in a very ungentlemanly manner. “No prodding.”

“Stop answering a question with a question!”

“Just one last one, who is Alice?” Is she a friend? Girlfriend?

Don’t say girlfriend.

“Alice is my friend and a colleague. Well, she works for me. She’s over there with George.”

“The girl he’s kissing?”

“Oh, for fuck-sake!” Hermione leant her head on Draco’s chest. She mumbled something.

“Pardon?”

She looked back up at him. “I said, I can't take him anywhere.”

“He looks like he wants to take Alice somewhere,” Draco waggled his eyebrows. “To the bedroo..”

Hermione placed her finger on his lip. “Shut up, Malfoy.”

He stuck the tip of his tongue on her finger.

“Eww,” she took it away and wiped it on his tux.

Draco grinned.

This was nice. They were dancing. It was okay. All the weird feelings were gone. All that strange behaviour around needing to be at the Ball to see her date and beating the shit out of Blaise, was just a bad couple of days. He was fine.

It was fine.

Draco was finally aware of the song they danced to - he hummed it lightly.

Theo bloody loved the Arctic Monkeys. For a posh boy, he had good taste.

“You can sing too? C’mon Malfoy. Stop being so… annoying.”

He huffed out a laugh. “You were going to say perfect.”

“I was not!”

Draco smiled at her outrage.

He pulled a silly face and began singing out loud.

Tunelessly.

“Bay-bee, I’m yourrrrs (Baby, I’m yours). And I’ll be Your-hours, Until the stars fall from the skyeee… eyyyy-hi!.”

Granger was laughing her head off. “Stop!”

That was three.

“Better?” He asked.

“No,” she laughed. “Go back to the way you were before!”

“Charming? Done.”

She shook her head but was smiling up at him.

Sparkles in her eyes, pretty teeth.

Irresistible.

Her eyes were like honey.

Freckles were nice. Especially on noses.

Was it hot? Why was it hot?

Draco couldn’t look away.

Were they moving?

Had he stopped?

Were they just holding each other and not dancing anymore?

Hermione swallowed.

“Malfoy?”

He blinked.

“Hello, Darling,” said his Mother, who was suddenly very close. “Shall we all get a drink and stop, er, standing here?”

Draco dropped Hermione's hands and moved away.

Fucking hell.

Narcissa took her son’s arm and Hermione’s and led them to the bar. She was saying something, but fuck knows what.

“Two, please,” said Narcissa to the barman.

“Darling, it’s so wonderful to reconnect with people, isn’t it? Miss Granger, I must say you have been on my list for a while now.”

Draco tried to shake, whatever this was, off, but it was like walking through treacle.

Narcissa was talking again. “I just wanted to give you my sincere apologies for the events that happened up to and during the war. And in my home too. I know I can never, ever take those awful events away, but I do want you to know that I have changed, and I made a vow to reform the Malfoy name as a safe environment for all of the wizarding community.”

Hermione was nodding. “Yes, of course, Mrs. Malfoy. There’s been cascades of water under the bridge since then. I know how hard you’ve worked to restore the Malfoy name. It was all such a long time ago, and I do understand there are two sides to a story.”

His Mother handed them both a drink and continued.

He clasped it; it was cold. Just keep holding onto it.

“Please call me Narcissa. My sister, Andromeda, tells me you are doing wonderful things in the DMLE. Of course, we expected nothing less, and Theo is so pleased to have another of Harry’s friends in his camp - he thinks you are quite lovely.”

Draco downed his drink.

Hermione had knocked quite a lot of hers back too.

“Narcissa, please call me Hermione. Andromeda mentioned you single- handedly funded all of the wonderful work that was completed at St Mungo’s, and I can’t tell you how thrilled I was…”

“Oh yes, of course, because you volunteer there.”

Draco coughed lightly and excused himself. Neither of the women noticed. He walked swiftly to the toilet, and as soon as he entered, he ran to the sink and grasped it tightly.

Theo burst in after him.

“No,” said Draco. “Fuck off.”

Theo’s hands were on his mouth. His eyes wide.

He lowered his hands.

“What was that?!” He hissed, pointing at the door.

“NOTHING!” Draco shouted.

He cleared his throat and said it again, in a normal voice. “It was nothing.”

Theo flapped his hands and squealed.

“Theo!” Draco squeezed his fists and then loosened them. He splashed some water on his face.

“How many people saw?”

Theo bit his lip. “Not many,” he said, unconvincingly.

Harry came through the door next. He looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“Mate, you okay?”

He rolled his eyes and groaned.

Harry cleared his throat and pulled himself together. “Seriously, what happened?”

“I don’t know!” Draco hissed, putting his hands in his hair. “She has pretty teeth,” he admitted lamely.

“She has what?” Theo frowned and looked at Harry.

“Her teeth made you stop dancing…?” Harry pulled his lips into his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

“All of you, can get fucked.” Draco said.

“We are just trying to understand what happened,” Theo replied.

“I don’t know…! It was hot, and she has these things.”

“What things?”

“I don’t know, Theo! Sparkly things!”

“Okay, and these ‘sparkly things’ make you hot?!”

“Oh, for fucksake. I know it was stupid, okay? Just shut the fuck up!”

“Draco, I…” Theo started.

“Not one word.” Malfoy pointed at both of them and then walked out of the bathroom.

***

Hermione kept up her end of the conversation with Narcissa for ten whole minutes before she finally excused herself. Narcissa actually hugged her and asked her to join her for dinner some time.

Yes, of course, anything! Just let me get some air, for the love of God, please.

Hermione nearly tripped as she walked so quickly. How the hell do you get out of here? She kept her head down and manoeuvred around people and finally spied a door that looked like it headed into the grounds.

Please don’t be locked, please don’t be locked.

She pulled down the handle and nearly cried with joy when the door opened. Cool fresh air surrounded her and she breathed a sigh of relief.

She kept walking, slightly wobbly in her heels, on the gravel path. The night was dark, so she couldn’t really see half of the gardens but there were fairy lights in some of the trees. Enough light to amble along. It was cold but she didn’t care - she needed it.

She took in great gulps of air into her lungs, she hadn’t been able to breathe, she didn’t know what would have happened if Narcissa hadn't come up to them.

His Mother! Oh, fucking hell.

The embarrassment.

What the hell had happened?

They’d been dancing, it had been nice. He was so good at it, and he was funny. Has Malfoy always been funny? Alice was right, funny men were sexy.

And men who could dance.

And men who could sing.

She nearly called him perfect. And he knew!

Then something had changed, his grey eyes were so intense. He was looking at her like he wanted to …

“Oof,” she said, as she collided with a body. Strong arms stopped her from falling over

“Granger? You have got to be kidding me!” Malfoy held her up, he was frowning again.

“Sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Why are you out here?” He rubbed her arms as he spoke. “You’re freezing! Merlin, Woman, where’s your coat?”

He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her.

As lovely as it was to be swamped in his delicious smelling jacket she was getting a little annoyed with all the shouting.

“Why are you mad at me?” She asked.

“I’M NOT!” He shouted again and then rolled his eyes. He took a deep breath. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m shouting.”

Then he smiled at her. A real smile. “That jacket looks ridiculous on you,”

She smiled back at him. “That’s weird, I was going to say the same to you, earlier.”

He snorted and then it started happening again.

The air changed.

His lips parted, he blinked, and her skin felt different.

It was as if they were somewhere else. Two different people.

His eyes, God his eyes. His beautiful, perfect mouth.

“Fuck it,” he murmured. “Punch me if you hate this.”

He moved in close, put his hands under her hair, holding her head and tilting it back, he leant down slowly, taking his time. Hermione took in a soft breath, he seemed to hesitate.

It was agonising.

Her fingers grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer. She closed her eyes and went onto her tiptoes, finally his lips touched hers.

Such a soft kiss. Tingles fell down from the base of her skull to her toes.

It wasn’t enough.

Hermione changed the angle and touched her tongue to his lips and Draco opened his mouth. Her tongue slid gently along his and the kiss got deeper.

One of them groaned. She had no idea who.

He moved his hands, one slid down her body, grabbing her arse and squeezing, pushing her gently into his body. Her hands were in his hair, holding him closer as she kissed the life out of him. The tempo changed, there were more noises, gasps for breath, he wasn’t close enough, she needed…

“Hermione, are you out here?” A voice called.

They broke apart, both of them panting.

He looked shell shocked. She wasn’t any better.

“It’s me!" said Harry, "Christ, it's cold out here. HERMIONE!” The voice was getting louder.

Draco blinked and then pointed at her. “You have some explaining to do,”

And then he ran off.

She was outraged.

Harry walked round the corner. “There you are! You okay?”

“Err yeah, I was just here with Draco BUT HE RAN AWAY LIKE A CHILD!” She shouted in the direction he’d run to.

“Sounds like Malfoy.” Then he looked at her, noticed the jacket and laughed. “You called him Draco.”

Hermione blushed. “It is his name, Harry.”

“That is true,” Harry took her hand and put it in his arm. “C’mon, we are going up to one of the many lounges to drink some more and get cosy. Alice and George are already up there.”

“Oh God, Alice!” She should have checked on Alice but she’d been so caught up with Draco. Hermione walked with Harry over the stones as he returned to the house. “Is she okay? I’ve been a terrible friend.”

“Yeah she looked tortured, draped over George, whilst he kissed the life out of her.”

“Harry!”

“She’s fine, H. I think they’re pretty into each other. He’s like “Alice, another drink? Are you cold? Hot? Hungry? Need some money? Shall I pay off your student loans?”

Hermione giggled. Then she sobered. “Do you think the gap is too big?”

“No! Eight years isn’t that much. And George is like a big kid. I actually think she’s more mature.”

“Obviously,” Hermione rolled her eyes as they walked in the door. The warmth of the house flooded her senses. She looked at Harry and wondered if she should tell him about the kiss.

Maybe not yet.

Chapter Text

The gym was fairly quiet that early in the morning. People were in the zone, heads down, focused. Just what he needed. He finished another set of pull ups and looked in the mirror. He was sweaty, his hair had grown a bit, he'd had it cut into a style before the Ball.

Not that she'd noticed.

Nope, not going there.

Shit! He'd forgotten to glamour his arm. His sleeve tattoo was on show. He usually glamoured it away when he was in the muggle world. Tattoos made it easy to be identified and his job required a tad more secrecy.

He noticed that Hermione had a glamour on her arm the night before, he'd felt it when he rubbed her arms, trying to get some warmth into them.

He groaned. Just stop thinking about her!

Frustrated with himself, he started another set and did an extra two pull-ups as punishment for being such a twat.

He clenched his teeth in order to finish the last one. He released the bar and dropped to his feet. Grabbing his towel he wiped his sweaty face and the equipment.

Just as he turned he noticed Beth on the rowing machine. She nodded shyly and blushed.

This would work. Beth was hot. She had that kind of figure he liked, a soft tummy and she wasn't afraid to show it off.

This was what he needed, a nice flirt with someone, who wasn't the other someone, who he didn't want to think about.

He ambled over to the water machine and sure enough Beth hesitantly followed.

"Hey," he gave her the full treatment, the big smile. The charmer.

"Hi Dan, you have a new tattoo! I like it"

His body and mind repelled. No, no, no, NO! Wrong voice, wrong hair, wrong smell.

He tried again. "Thanks. Good workout?"

"Yeah," she twirled a finger around her hair.

Wrong smile, wrong teeth, wrong face, wrong brain.

Wrong brain? Fuck sake.

He finished filling his bottle and gave her a quick smile. "Got to head to work,"

"On a Sunday?" WRONG!

"No rest for the wicked." He walked away lamely, frustrated and tired. He was going home to sleep this time.

He needed a good night's sleep, that was all.

But first, a quick trip to see Narcissa. She’d say something sensible and appealing. And also compliment him - because he was absolutely not being an idiot.

***

A week later Draco woke up sweating and trying to get his bearings. He sat up in bed, his mind reeling as he tried to catch his breath and slow his heart down.

He had dreamt of that night at the Manor. Bellatrix lying on top of Hermione, the screams that tore a hole right through him. Granger's eyes frantically searching for something, and then suddenly holding his gaze, as she was tortured.

Like an anchor, she had looked to him for help, as that fucking psychopath carved that vile slur into her perfect skin.

He’d since touched that skin, and felt how soft it was.

Draco realised he was crying, he stuck the heels of his hands in his eyes and let it happen for a while.

He wiped his face, sat up further and did the breathing exercise the muggle counsellor has suggested.

Seven beats in and eleven out.

He then counted five things he could see in the room.

Stroked the cotton of his bed sheet and put his feet on the floor.

She’s safe. I’m safe. It’s okay.

He got up, sniffed a bit and then walked to the shower. He ran it as hot as he could stand it, and leant his hand on the wall as the water fell all around him.

He thought of that kiss.

That fucking kiss would be the death of him. Why had he done it?

Because it was your only chance.

He rubbed his face. FUCK!

Another brilliant move by Malfoy, he thought. Girls love it when someone watches them get tortured and then get off with them.

He dried off and shoved his running gear on. Going for a run always helped. Carol the counsellor told him the endorphins reminded his brain that there were good feelings as well as the bad ones. The rhythmic pounding of his feet on the pavement would feel comforting. Moving his body was good.

She was right every time. As soon as he got into his stride he instantly felt better. Obviously, this was once he’d got passed the feeling of ‘Fuck, I hate running, why am I doing this?’

On mile three, with his mood improving, his thoughts slipped back to the night of the ball.

The feel of her hair, her gorgeous body held tightly to his. The way she had licked his tongue.

And the absolute outrage on her face as he told her she had some explaining to do.

He remembered Hermione’s voice shouting after him, ‘BUT HE RAN AWAY LIKE A FUCKING CHILD’ and he started to laugh so hard he had to stop running.

Harry arrived just after his second shower, walking through the floo at 9am. Draco had made him a coffee.

He was feeling much better.

“I’ve got some stuff to tell you today that you are not going to like.” Harry exclaimed from his stool at the breakfast bar.

Draco just looked at him. Great.

“So, we want to put you back in the field, as an Auror. Shacklebolt thinks it’s time to assign someone else to the project.” Harry winced as he said it.

FUCKING GRANGER!

“Are you kidding me Harry? Why?”

“It’s time mate, we’ve had the most excellent run but we really should swap you out. We don’t want you to burn out.”

“That is bullshit and you know it. Fucking Granger has gone to Shacklebolt and you have agreed because she’s got some miss-placed sense of …”

“I will admit that Hermione has spoken to Shacklebolt, but there is some merit in what she is talking about. It’s been too long. Don’t you want to come back in and have a team around you again?”

“No I fucking don’t” Draco couldn’t believe it, she was ripping it all away. He was going to kill the witch. Why did she have to stick her nose into everything!

“I’m not a team player, Harry. I’m a lone wolf.”

Harry looked away.

“Don’t laugh!”

“Mate, you are not a lone wolf. You fucking love being around people. As much as you have tried to make yourself a loner, you’ve surrounded yourself with people you need. And they need you.”

Draco pulled a face. “Bollocks.”

Harry took a deep breath. “I know how this started, I know you looked at it as some kind of penance…”

Draco gave Harry a warning look.

Harry held up his hands. “You don’t owe anybody anything! You did your time. It’s over.”

“Are those her words?”

“Who’s? Hermione’s? No, this is me. My words, telling my best friend that he needs to come back and start living. This has taken its toll on you. And I’ve been a shitty friend because I didn’t realise how much.”

Draco crossed his arms and tried to speak.

“I’m not done, we took advantage, Shacklebolt and I. You were too good and we were winning everything. We used you…”

“Oh fuck off, you didn’t use me. I wanted to do it.”

“And that, right there, is what we took advantage of. The fact that you wanted to do it but there are so many things you can do Draco. Stuff that isn't clandestine and in the shadows. It stops now. You train someone else up and you come back in, and you get the recognition you deserve.”

“I don’t want it Harry, I don’t want the recognition.”

“Yes, because you think you don’t deserve it.”

“FUCK!” Shouted Draco. He hated it when Harry was right. He didn’t like admitting it, he didn’t want to admit it but it was true, probably. This had been his way to pay it all back. To get straight with fate. To put some karma back in his corner.

He had been such a fuck up, so blinded by his father and the way he was bought up. Not realising how trapped his mother was, how wrong it all was, till so close to the end.

The job had been the ideal way to earn his friendships, and his life back. But he wasn’t really back, he didn’t really have a life either. He just liked his job because it allowed him to do some good. But he had no life outside of it.

He mostly saw Harry and Theo. Sometimes he played a game of Quidditch. It was a poor excuse for a social life. He clung to the people around him quite desperately, ignoring everyone else and avoiding their opinions.

Hiding in the muggle world so that they couldn’t get to him.

Harry stood patiently, giving his friend a minute or two. “You still get the dreams?”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“I do too,” said Harry quietly.

Draco looked up, “at the manor?”

Harry shook his head. “No, in the forest, with your mum.”

“Fuck,” said Draco.

“Come for dinner tonight,” Harry said, swerving the awkwardness nicely. They could only really talk about this stuff when they’d had a beer. It was too hard otherwise. Especially at nine o’clock in the morning.

Draco nodded.

Harry sipped some of his coffee. “Listen, us taking you out of the field - it won’t be straight away. We’ve got some stuff to wrap up and we need to train up the new person.”

Draco sighed and picked up his own coffee. “You got someone in mind?”

“A few actually. We got this terrific little slytherin just completed the training. She’s almost as much of a pain in the arse as you were.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, super arrogant and posh.”

Draco snorted.

“She doesn’t have pretty teeth though, as far as I know.”

“Prick.” Draco shook his head.

Harry laughed.

“I was drunk,”

“Barely,” Harry replied. “Seriously, are you okay about everything? Hermione does tend to push people's buttons.”

“She couldn’t push my buttons if she tried!”

Harry just looked at him.

“There’s been zero button pushing! She’s just fucking annoying. And stupid.”

“Well, as fun as this is, I do have to go to the office.” Harry got up and downed a bit more of his coffee. He put the mug in the sink and slapped Draco on the back.

“See you later,” Draco muttered as Harry walked into floo.

Chapter Text

Alice lay draped over Hermione’s bed. She was dressed in a pair of jeans, a jumper and some high top trainers, and she looked more glamorous and put together than anyone Hermione had ever met.

Well maybe Malfoy would give her a run for her money. But only because he looked so bloody suave in that tux.

He looked good in running shorts too.

And jeans. Damn him.

Hermione shook herself and tried to carry on with the conversation they were having. She applied some mascara whilst asking,“When did you see him last?”

“Tuesday,” replied Alice, elegantly sitting up. “We went to dinner. He’s a proper sweetie, and he’s so funny, Hermione. So cheeky too.”

“Yeah, he is,” agreed Hermione, with a smile.

She started her other eye whilst Alice chatted.

“He spoke about Fred, which was lovely. He said that sometimes he will chat to him like he’s still here.” Alice chewed her lip for a moment. “I liked that, he’s not keeping it in, you know. He talks about his grief.”

Hermione turned to Alice and said, “Once you get to know him, there’s layers. People think he’s just silly and fun but he’s so much more…”

“Exactly, I really like him H,” Alice collapsed on the bed again.

"Well he likes you too," Hermione spun back to the mirror and put some lip gloss on.

Alice sat up again, her eyes wide. "Have you spoken to him? What did he say?"

"I spoke to him after the Ball," Hermione replied as she pulled a few curls free from the french plait Alice had finished earlier. "He said that he thought you were gorgeous and funny and that he wanted to take you out for dinner, which he did."

Alice did a little happy dance and grinned.

"And he's definitely there tonight?" She asked.

"Yeah, Theo invited him."

Alice flapped her hands. "Think I'm gonna vom."

Hermione snorted. "You'll be fine."

"What about you? Is Draco gonna be there?" Alice smiled at her sneakily.

"If he is, who cares, right?" Hermione looked at her reflection and thought, you do, you stupid bitch.

He ran away.

He ran away, like a little boy. Who does that?

It didn’t matter, none of that stuff did.

But she was pleased she had made strides into ensuring that he would be okay, professionally. She sent Shacklebolt a detailed report about the effects of long term espionage and how this would reflect on his team, if anything ever happened to Malfoy.

Kingsley finally agreed to meet her, thanked her for the subtle threat and finally listened. It was time for Malfoy to move back into society, it was time for him to use all of that experience and train up someone new - or even a team of people.

The rest had been easy. They even bought Harry into the meeting and they planned it out roughly.

She’d instantly felt better. He’d be okay, which was her aim.

So the rest - the kiss and the whole ‘you have some explaining to do’ thing, didn’t mean anything.

She wished she’d kept his tux jacket, but she’d left it at Theo’s house. It smelled so good. And it had minty chewing gum in the pocket, which she may or may not have stolen.

"So you're cool with everything?"

"You know me, super chill."

They both laughed.

"Shut up!" Hermione threw a make-up sponge at her.

She sighed. "He kissed me and ran away. I mean - what else can you say to that?"

"Such a dick move. Can we hex him? I say we hex him."

"Sure, sounds fair."

Hermione put her makeup away and then stood up. She checked out her outfit in the mirror. She was wearing a tweed mini-skirt, tights, ankle-boots and a long-sleeve, v-neck top. She cocked her hip and pouted a little.

“Sex goddess,” said Alice from the bed.

“Damn right,” she took a deep breath. "You ready? Let's go."

They headed into the lounge and grabbed some floo powder.

***

Hermione looked up from her plate and found Draco staring at her again. She blinked and tried to look interested in what Ron had to say, cocking her ear and leaning in to him.

Whoever had sat Malfoy opposite her was seriously cruising for a bruising.

He had already finished his dinner and was now lounging in his chair, black shirt open at the collar, rolled up at the sleeves to show a huge tattoo that she hadn’t noticed before. He must have glamoured it previously, she was trying not to look at it for too long but had caught glimpses and it was beautiful. It covered the dark mark completely.

She just tended to glamour her scar if she needed to, with long sleeves she never bothered. Maybe it was time to get a cool tattoo?

She pondered this for a while whilst taking another peek at Malfoy’s. The foliage looked nice. His forearm flexed suddenly and she looked up to see him smirking at her.

Bollocks.

Harry had greeted her earlier, taking her coat and saying extremely quickly “Malfoy’s here,” in her ear and then he practically ran off.

Alice had been too busy saying hello to George to care but then raised her eyebrows when they both walked into the dining room.

It was fine but he hadn’t actually said anything to her. He was just doing a lot of staring.

Was his hair longer? It looked longer.

Ron kept chatting, oblivious to anything other than his own conversation and the food, “... and then it happened, she let go of the sofa and off she went. Was amazing, I honestly couldn’t believe it. Such an early walker, Mom was saying, wasn’t she, babe, that none of us walked that early...”

Verity nodded and went back to her conversation with Theo.

“Anyway, I don’t reckon it’ll be long before she’ll be talking either. Clever that one, I’m telling you,” Ron said, in-between bites.

George chucked a green bean at him. “Bro, you can’t just talk about your kids and Quidditch all night.”

“Fuck off George! Hermione wants to know, don’t you?” Ron nudged her.

A little bit of wine slopped over her goblet, she casually wiped it with her napkin, wincing as the linen soaked it up. She did a wandless scourgify to no avail.

Might need a bit of Vanish on that.

“Yes, it’s lovely to hear about them. I really miss seeing them,” she smiled at him, taking a sip of the merlot.

“What are their names?” Draco asked, a twinkle in his eye.

Hermione felt colour rising to her cheeks. SHIT!

“Bernard, Brian and Bartleby,” said George, from across the table.

Alice laughed.

Ron ignored George and spoke directly to Draco, “Thanks for asking Malfoy, they’re called Holly, Bertie and Fizz - short for Felicity. Holly is five and she’s a right firecracker honestly…”

Hermione smirked at Malfoy who was trying to look like he was interested in what Ron was saying.

Serves him right. Dick.

She finally put her knife and fork together on her plate and adjusted how she was sitting. She’d got some aches and pains and was frustrated that she hadn’t bought a pain potion or any Ibuprofen with her.

She took a big gulp of wine, hoping that would help.

“What happened between you two anyway?” Draco asked, gesturing at her and Ron.

Hermione looked up in shock. Was he serious? Who asks a question like that?

Ron stifled a burp and snorted. “What was it you said ‘Mione? You weren’t interested in becoming the next Molly Weasley.”

Verity looked up sharply, hurt in her eyes.

Brilliant.

“Ron, I don’t think I exactly said that… I’d never disrespect Molly in that way.”

Then Hermione looked at Draco. “Such an interesting topic of conversation, Malfoy, why don’t you go first? Hmm? Why did your high school relationship not last?”

“Got sent to Azkaban,” Draco shrugged, nonchalantly. “Your turn.”

“Umm, who’s for dessert?” said Theo loudly from the end of the table. Hermione could feel all eyes on her.

Nobody paid Theo any attention.

“Ron and I wanted different things,” Hermione said finally, placing her hands on the table and raising her chin. “Which worked out rather well because Ron met Verity, and they are a far better match.”

Verity blew her a kiss.

“And what about Mike?” Draco enunciated his words as he spoke. His eyes, practically on fire with their intensity.

“Umm Draco, maybe we should change the subject. Your questions have a weird, psychopathic edge to them, that’s concerning me slightly.” Theo exclaimed.

“You want to know about Mike?” Hermione asked him, her voice going a little shrill. “Let me tell you one thing about Mike that you will like. He never ran away from things, you know? He stayed to explain himself.”

Draco slow-clapped. “What a hero. And did you get him fired from his job as well?”

“Anyone following this?” asked George.

Alice and Harry nodded.

“Not fired, mate, and really it was Shacklebolt’s call…” Harry started to say.

“Get fucked, Malfoy.” Hermione got up and inhaled as a sharp pain settled in her ovaries. “Excuse me everyone, I just need a bit of air.”

She stomped out of the room. That fucking prick - what on earth was his problem?

“Hey!” A voice said behind her.

Malfoy had followed her out of the room with a strange expression on his face.

“What is your problem Malfoy? I did not get you fired. I was actually worried about you, not that's anything you’d know about - one person looking out for another. You’re far too busy humiliating people at dinner parties for God knows what reason.”

Malfoy watched her put a hand on her back to try and ease the shooting pains that were swelling in that region.

“What’s wrong?” He asked her.

“What! What’s wrong with me? Are you listening to me? You’re the one that’s baiting me…”

“No,” he shook his head. “You’re in pain, right? Are you hurt?”

And before she could blink he did a diagnostic spell and Hermione watched as a smoky hologram of her body settled between them, showing lights of pain on her lower back, base of her skull, her breasts and her womb.

No one knew how to do that spell apart from Healers, it was really difficult to cast. It had taken her weeks to get right.

“Fuck, you’re lit up like a christmas tree. Are you okay?”

She just stared at him for a minute, licked her lips and then said. “It’s period pain, I was just going to see if there's any Ibuprofen in the bathroom.”

Yep, that ought to do it, he’d turn on his heel and leave her the fuck alone.

“Fuck that,” Draco muttered and grabbed her arm, he side-apparated her to Theo’s fireplace and grabbed some powder.

“Your address,” he demanded.

She didn’t know why she did it but she spoke it aloud as he threw the powder.

***

Draco felt like the world's biggest shit as he finally realised how much pain Hermione was in. That diagnostic charm was eye-opening. It was inconceivable that a person who menstruated could be in that much pain and just continue day to day, going to work, sitting around at a dinner party.

Pansy used to get it so bad, back in school, that she would sob into his shoulder as he rubbed her back.

He walked through the floo with Granger and marvelled at the amount of books and paperwork that littered her apartment. He ignored most of it, took her hand and led her to the sofa, clearing off a stack of books and plumping up her cushions.

Draco turned Granger to face him. “Let me take care of you,” he said softly.

She looked slightly confused but her features had softened.

“Okay,” she said quietly.

He smiled. “Good, sit here.”

She sat down, that amazing mini-skirt rising up nicely on her thighs. He looked elsewhere whilst conjuring a hot water bottle. He heated it up, using a clever spell he’d learned years ago and placed it on her stomach. He then crouched down and undid her boots, slipping them off and indicating that she put them up on the sofa. He leaned over her and took the folded blanket off the arm, shook it out and placed it on her legs.

“Where are we?” He asked her.

“My flat,” she exclaimed, looking at him warily.

“Yes but geographically?”

“Oh, London.”

“Excellent, key me into your wards. I’ll be five minutes.”

He stopped suddenly. “That skirt is tight, right?”

She frowned and adjusted it under the blanket.

“You misunderstand, it looks amazing. I mean, it’s tight across your stomach? Go get changed into something comfortable and be back here in five minutes. Don’t take anything for the pain yet. I have something for it.”

He pointed at her. “Okay?”

“Okay,” she said quietly.

“Good girl,” he said and then apparated out of her flat.

He gathered everything he needed from his own flat and then headed back. He was able to apparate directly into her home, which meant she’d listened, which was nice.

If not, he’d be lying in a heap across the street.

She was exactly where he’d left her but now she was wearing pyjamas. Tartan pyjama bottoms and a big t-shirt. Fluffy socks peeped out of the blanket.

Hermione looked up at him expectantly. There was a tightness around her eyes, the pain was obviously getting worse.

He walked over to her, leaned down, placed the vial near to her lips. “Trust me?”

“Yes,” she answered, that wariness warring with trust. Heady stuff.

“Swallow, Granger,” he ordered, mischievously.

She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth.

When she had drunk the potion, he stood up.

“It’ll take a couple of minutes, hold-on in there.”

He pointed to a door. “Kitchen?”

She nodded, watching him move about. He could tell that she was still a bit angry but was seeing where this was going.

“Relax,” he demanded as he walked out the room.

Granger's kitchen was fairly clean and tidy. There was evidence of pre-drinks out on the side. A cut up lemon and some tonic water. He clicked the switch on the kettle, found a selection of teas in the cupboard and got out a honey and chamomile flavoured one for her and a yorkshire tea bag for himself.

Draco grabbed some mugs, made the tea and went back into the living room. Hermione put her wand back on the table.

She looked surprised at the tea but said, instead, “I just sent out a patronus letting people know we hadn’t killed each other.”

He nodded, “Good call, did you say ‘I’m still 50/50 on whether I want to kill Draco but so far so good.’”

She snorted.

“How are you feeling?”

She smiled. “Better, what was in that?! ”

He handed her the tea and nudged her so she pulled her legs up. He sat by her and then indicated that she should put them back over his lap.

She gingerly acquiesced. Watching him for a minute.

Draco did another diagnostic spell, feeling better himself when he saw how the pain had dimmed.

He vanished the spell away and said, “I developed it in potions class for extra credit. Snape was thrilled as you can imagine, but Pansy got pain real bad, back in the day. I still brew it up for her a couple of times a year, that’s why I knew I had it.”

“For Pansy?”

“Yeah, she was the same as you. She used to cry when it got so bad and she hated going to Pomfrey for that kind of stuff so I just started messing about with Kendrick’s original formula. Sometimes I still tinker with it and Pansy lets me know how well it works.” He paused and nodded at the empty vial on the side table. “I believe that is version twelve.”

“That’s genuinely the loveliest thing I think a boy has ever done for a girl,” Hermione said dreamily. She leant her head against the couch and closed her eyes.

“Granger, that’s surely not the loveliest thing a boy can do for a girl.”

She opened her eyes and he winked.

Blushing, she popped her tea on a side table. “Believe me, when you feel like that - it truly is.”

“Oh well, I can probably go one better,” Draco pulled out a packet of sugar quills and handed them to her.

Hermione grabbed them. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

She sat up and grabbed Draco in an awkward hug, her blanket falling off her and the hot water bottle hitting his hip. She kissed his cheek and then fell back into her seat, rearranging everything and then opening the packet before munching happily.

Draco tried hard to stop the rush of endorphins that were flooding through him. He tried to stop the feelings that erupted over his body as it remembered how she felt in that awkward embrace. He even tried to ignore the touch of her lips on his cheek.

He looked at her and tried to breathe evenly.

“It’s like a rollercoaster,” she muttered as she sucked the end of a quill.

He was fascinated. Shit, she was talking.

“Err what?”

“Being with you is like a rollercoaster. There’s all these twists and turns and I never know what’s happening.”

Draco grinned. “I have been told I’m one hell of a ride.”

Hermione hid her face and snorted out a laugh.

“That was terrible,” she giggled.

He sighed and placed his hand on her foot. “I’m sorry about the interrogation earlier.”

Hermione looked at his hand and then back at his face. “What was that about?”

Draco scrunched up his face and then cracked his knuckles. “I honestly don’t know. I guess I wanted to know about your ex-boyfriends and might have some… unresolved issues around both of them for some unknown reason.”

“That’s weird.”

“That is weird, Granger. But I feel like it’s more of a you problem than a me problem.”

She shook her head. “It’s definitely a you problem - it made you look like a dick.”

“No, no. Everyone thought I looked manly and totally in control.”

She laughed.

“Thank you for taking care of me, I love sugar quills.”

She did the ‘dreamy smile’ again.

“Welcome,” he said whilst staring at her lips.

“Want one?” she asked as she posted another quill.

He nodded.

She offered him one, holding the sugary sweet in her fingers.

He leant towards her and opened his mouth.

Her lips twitched and she sat up a bit to reach his mouth. He took it in his teeth and then rolled his tongue around it and ate the whole thing.

Hermione wet her lips and looked at his throat.

“How’s the pain?” he asked when he had swallowed.

“Gone,” she said softly.

“Good,” said Draco as he pulled her towards him.

She was heading in his direction anyway.

Their lips touched and it was sugary sweet. He grabbed her plait and pulled it softly, making her chin draw up so he could get a better angle.

They were sweet little kisses, touches of tongues, breaks to look into each other's eyes, soft kisses, apology kisses.

He rearranged her gently, moving her so they could lay side by side, he caressed her face and she looked at him with those honey eyes. He kissed her nose, her cheeks, her jawline and then they just lay together.

Draco’s arms wrapped around her, stroking her hair until she fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Hermione sat quietly in the meeting room and watched as Alice presented their findings to various department heads including Harry and Shacklebolt. This was a big deal and Alice was doing a great job of methodically moving through the facts. She answered every question perfectly and held people accountable.

“I believe the information from The Ghost’s contact, regarding the ‘Manticore fighting ring’, would have been extremely useful to have had before this meeting, Auror Potter,” Alice explained succinctly. “Our department would have benefited greatly to have the knowledge surrounding Project X3541.”

Harry nodded and smiled at the younger employee, (who had been in his house for dinner the week before). “I agree, and can only apologise for the failure on our part. Whilst project X3541 has had many successes we are beginning to uncover several lapses that have meant we haven’t performed as well as perhaps we could have.”

Harry took a breath and looked at the group. “We will endeavour to share relevant information, as soon as it becomes available, in the future.”

“I think working together will only add to our success,” Shacklebolt said grandly.

Hermione closed her fists in order to stop herself from rolling her eyes. What a profound thing to say.

“Thanks Alice,” said Hermione, gesturing for her to take a seat. Alice looked relieved, closed her file and sat down next to Hermione.

“It’s interesting,” she began. “From what we have discovered, we now seem to have several events happening in unison.”

Hermione counted them off her fingers “Previously dormant, ex-supports of Voldemort are being activated. Illegal species fighting rings are popping up. Kidnappings of dangerous species and finally the various attacks on Muggles in broad daylight. Now we know that The Ghost has been able to subdue a lot of this activity but as far as I’m aware, Auror Potter, The Ghost is just one person.”

Harry raised his eyebrows and nodded.

“It would appear that the other side is raising their game. The Ghost is good but can they be in two places at the same time? I’m guessing not. We need a thorough plan of attack - as you witnessed from Alice’s rigorously researched presentation, if some of these things are happening at the same time, they are being meticulously planned. That leads us to believe that there is one person orchestrating their plan of attack.”

Up until now, the other side had been sloppy and mainly ineffectual. Attacks had happened randomly and the culprits were usually caught quite quickly. If there was a real threat it would be by a singular party not an entire force and not of this quality.

Hermione needed both Shacklebolt and Harry to take this seriously - there had always been dark wizards and there always would be, but last time the DMLE and the Ministry had acted too late.

Voldemort was able to do as much damage as he had, because the wizarding community had not wanted to believe he would ever come back.

She refused to let this happen again.

“Hermione,” Kingsley said with a smile. “Tom Riddle was an anomaly - there aren’t any dark wizards of his calibre around anymore. We would know if there were.”

“Kingsley,” she smiled back. “I am aware of that. Defeating him at nineteen left a rather large impression.”

She paused for a moment, giving herself time to control the rage of having to explain this to the head of the DMLE. “My point is, that if people believe that someone of his calibre is around to champion their Pureblood rhetoric, then that would be enough to garner a substantial amount of supporters onto the playing field.” You moron.

“We believe they are getting bolder, Auror Shacklebolt,” continued Alice. “The bus and the playground weren’t necessarily just diversionary tactics - they were meant to begin instilling fear into Muggles and magic folk alike.”

Shacklebolt began to consider, he rubbed his face.

“You have an idea about what we can expect?” Asked Harry.

It was a good question.

Hermione shrugged. “We have no evidence apart from perhaps history repeating itself. They seem to be using Voldemort's old playbook but with even more macabre twists. If you remember, Voldemort was looking for the Elder Wand - I don’t believe the new person has a plan like that, they just possibly remember the events that scared people and ensured a winning streak.”

“So your guess is…?’

“Kidnapping people would come next but maybe this time, people with purpose,” Hermione stated.

“Based on what?” Asked Susan Bones, “Sorry, Hermione. I’m not trying to be contrary. Is there evidence to back this up?”

“No it’s fine, Susan and a fair question.” Hermione opened up her file, glossing over her findings before she continued. “When Voldemort began to turn the tide, the support he garnered had doubled exponentially. There were significant disruptions in the wizard and muggle world that he intentionally actioned to cause chaos and fear. For example, the attacks in London. Buildings, people, and travel were targeted. He waited for the fear to grow and that’s when people started to be kidnapped. In Voldemort’s day, they were kidnapped because of the information they had. For instance, Mr.Olivander the wandmaker,Also because of Voldemort’s Pureblood rhetoric, Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies teacher.”

Hermione closed her file. “This person, this new leader, isn’t Voldemort, that much we do know, but they liked his style, it worked. Kidnappings would follow the profile we have put together.”

“Like wizard celebrities or people of status and power,” Alice continued.

“Or people who have switched sides,” Harry said looking at Hermione intently.

Fuck.

Shacklebolt took in a sharp breath. “Granger, you have never steered me wrong. Doesn’t matter if we don’t have anything solid, we start planning for it anyway. I’ll work on the Ministry, Potter, you take people who have switched sides and Granger’s team take the rest. Updates twice a week. Potter, I'll leave it to you to arrange the meetings.”

“Yes sir,” said Harry.

The room cleared fairly quickly. Hermione gathered her stuff, beckoned to Alice and followed Harry out of the room.

“Where is he?” she asked quietly.

“On assignment, I’ll bring him in.” Harry replied.

***

Hermione sat at her desk and tried not to panic. Draco was not a member of her staff, which meant she couldn't technically get involved. And Harry had promised, as soon as Malfoy came back in, he'd let her know.

She took a deep breath and looked up at her pinboard. Alice had put the old Daily Prophet clipping neatly on the board. Draco's gaunt nineteen year old face called to her and she watched as he swallowed nervously.

It hurt to look at that picture but sometimes, she couldn’t look away.

He had behaved so strangely at the dinner party.

Hermione had been so angry with him, he'd embarrassed her and what's worse, their friends were so used to his immature and bullying behaviour - that he practically got away with it.

She had no idea what Ron's excuse was, but he was too busy eating everything on the table and talking about his children to notice her distress. Prick.

But then, Malfoys demeanour had completely changed as soon as he realised she was in pain. Period pain, no less. The kind of pain that men in her life hadn’t really been that fussed with before.

But this man had realised when he was a teenager, that his high-school girlfriend suffered so badly, and was too embarrassed to ask an adult for help, so Malfoy redeveloped a potion (a particularly tricky potion) that helped Pansy manage her period pain.

It had been so confusing. One minute he was being the biggest prick and the next, he had turned into this completely lovely person.

Let me take care of you.

The hot water bottle and the pain potion would have been wonderful, just in themselves but when he held her foot and unzipped her boot, carefully taking each one off and rubbing her toes lightly before he placed them up on the sofa.

Who was this man?

He then finishes her off completely by producing a packet of her very favourite sweets. She hadn't been able to help herself, giving him the world's most awkward hug for it.

It had been unreal. Draco Malfoy was not what she expected, at all.

She touched her fingers to her lips remembering the kisses. He had kissed her so softly and carefully.

Those kisses were comfort kisses, safe kisses, ‘I’m here’ kisses.

And then he looked her in the eyes and ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek, and started to stroke her hair, encouraging her to lay her head on his arm.

She had been so comfortable and warm, she'd fallen asleep.

She then woke up in the early hours of the morning, desperately needing a wee to find he was no longer there.

Two more of the vials were placed on the side table with a note that said to take only one a day.

No 'love Draco' or 'see you soon' - just an instruction.

That had been over a week ago and she had heard nothing else from him.

Alice’s knock on the door brought her back to the present.

“Any news?” Hermione asked as she came in

Alice shook her head. “No, Matty said Harry looked a bit panicked.”

Hermione got up. “Harry’s lost his nerve,”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he’s sticking to procedure - and the time for that has long passed. It’s been two hours. I’m done waiting.”

“Hermione, what are you going to do?” Alice looked concerned.

“I’m going to find him, hand me that file.”

Alice picked up the file and passed it over. “Is this a copy of Draco’s file?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want me to answer that.”

“Merlin, Hermione!”

“Don’t panic, Shacklebolt needs me too much to worry about what nefarious things I get up to. ” She flicked through the file and found the information she was looking for.

“You know what’s really interesting about the ‘check’ the DMLE does on peoples wands when you take a job here?”

Alice shook her head.

“They never do it in front of you, weird isn’t it? They take your wand away whilst you are given your paperwork to fill in. Every other wand check, in any other job, is a performance check, as in, they want you to perform with your wand. Not here - it got me thinking. What else do they do to the wand?”

Alice took out her own wand and looked at it warily, “What do they do to it?”

“They put a tracker on it, with a specified password and they hide it in your personnel file.”

“Fuck!”

“I know! I figured it out and Shacklebolt explained it was to keep his team safe. Of course, data protection isn’t really a thing in the wizarding world, so he gets away with it.”

Hermione closed the file suddenly and grabbed her jacket.

“Okay, I have it. I’ll send my patronus when I have him.”

Alice gave her a hug. “Be careful, okay?”

“Brightest witch of my age, Alice. You forget, I used to be a badass.” Hermione winked at her.

“I never once forgot mate,” Alice said earnestly.

With that blast of confidence, Hermione apparated to Draco.

***

Draco was currently a little overwhelmed. Even he could admit fighting six dark wizards at once was a cause for concern. Currently his plan was to draw their fire, hoping he could get close enough to get a positive ID on who was attacking.

Problem was, they were all wearing masks and had their hoods up, so it was proving slightly tricky.

He apparated a couple of metres away and hid behind an air conditioning unit on top of the building. One of his pursuers was definitely up here, they'd been taking pot shots at him moments ago.

The warehouse he'd been using as his drop off point was definitely unusable now. He was just glad it was in an abandoned part of the city, the sun had set on an already grey day so he had that in his favour, but if anyone was around, the noise and the lights from the fight would draw them closer.

He finally spotted a figure, looking over the building.

Draco ran silently over, kicked out the dark wizard's knee, causing him to drop. He grabbed him in a choke-hold.

"Hello, this has been fun but I'm getting slightly concerned that you lot are starting to win, so we really need to bring this to a close."

“You’re fucked mate,” his opponent struggled and tried to elbow Draco in the ribs, he dodged and held on tighter.

He managed to remove the mask and tried to get a look at the wizard's face, but before he got the angle right to identify the perp, he heard a footstep behind him. He spun around, holding the attacker in front of him.

The curse the new attacker had cast, made the wizard Draco was holding, scream in pain.

Draco threw the screaming wizard at the new attacker and held up a shield as he diverted for cover.

Shit, they were everywhere. Draco apparated to a new spot. He needed to identify at least one of them before he got out of there and he hadn't recognised the wizard that was writhing around on the floor.

A new attacker appeared and they began duelling. The witch was good, but not good enough, they exchanged spells and counterspells for a few moments before he finally caught her with a nasty hex and she flew off, landing on her arse a few metres away.

He ran towards her, to try and unmask her, but two more opponents appeared, he threw up shield after shield, looking for an opening but they were pushing him back towards the ledge of the building.

He couldn't apparate and hold his shield at the same time.

Draco did not know how high up he was, but as his heels touched the edge, he was certain this was going to hurt.

Suddenly, a new player appeared on top of the building. Both of his opponents switched their hexes to her as she had apparated pretty much in between Draco and themselves. Granger took a half-second to establish what was happening and then she blasted a white, cold, smoke-like substance over his two former opponents, encasing them completely in ice.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Draco asked, completely aghast.

She ignored him, "We have to go, that will only last for a few minutes." She produced another shield as they were attacked from their left.

Fuck!

Draco grabbed her and apparated to another building.

"I said we have to go!" she said in exasperation, like he was being the pain in the arse

"I can't go, I need an ID… I have no idea who they are."

"It doesn't matter, there are too many of them."

"It does matter actually, Granger. It's my fucking job."

"Malfoy! They are after you! It's a kidnapping, not a random fight," Hermione argued, frustration all over her face.

She was wearing that fucking skirt again.

"Well, that just makes it more interesting. Stay down Granger, you're practically a civilian these days."

She sputtered at him.

"Get down!" He hissed, dragging her below the wall that covered the edge of the current building they were standing on.

They took a beat and then both peered over the wall looking for the other wizards.

"Look Granger," Malfoy began, in a low voice, "As lovely as your ardent attention is for me, I am working, sweetheart, and you are quite the distraction."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Have you checked your phone recently? Harry's been trying to call you back-in since two pm."

Draco quickly pulled out his phone, to see that there were eighteen missed calls. Bollocks.

"Why did he send you?"

"He didn't," Hermione admitted, looking uncomfortable for the first time. "New information has come to light, it looks like the other side is converging around one leader. Things have changed. The stakes are higher. I believe that the pattern of events is similar to Voldemort's, they’re using his old playbook - I think kidnapping is next."

And she’d come for him.

“How did you find me?” He asked her.

“Tracking spell on your wand.”

Draco looked at her weirdly, “Yours?”

She frowned. “No! Shacklebolt’s.”

Draco stared at his wand and then back at her. “Mother Fucker.”

He thought for a second and then said. “That sneaky fucker. He does it when they take it for a ‘check’ on your first day, right?”

She nodded.

Merlin’s tits. Was nothing sacred?

“Just out of interest, when did you realise?”

“First day,” Hermione replied with a smirk.

He snorted.

Draco watched her for a minute.

She’d come for him, using an option that could possibly get her fired.

Something stirred in his soul. It bloomed softly, reminding him of a feeling he'd had before.

He tried to ignore it and concentrate. "So circling back to your pattern theory, you are talking about the muggle attacks, the illegal fighting ring and the manticore disappearance?"

She looked at him with a hint of surprise.

"Yes," she replied softly.

"And you think I'll be kidnapped because I switched sides?"

Hermione nodded slowly, a small frown on her face.

“Best case scenario for this fuck up?” she asked.

“All of them in custody.” He stated, nonchalantly. It could never happen. They were outnumbered.

She then blinked and looked back out at the other buildings. He'd seen this look on her face before.

She was planning.

"What do you need?"

"Hmm?" She glanced at him.

“You’re planning right? What do you need?”

“How many are there?”

“Six,”

"Okay, umm, I'll need a distraction for about forty seconds. I need the perps to be within a couple of metres of each other. A radius of four metres, max."

"I can do that, let me know when you're ready."

"Are you sure? I need forty seconds exactly."

Draco grinned slyly at her. "Granger, I can last way longer than that."

She snorted, "impressive."

"That's what they say…"

Hermione looked out again and pointed below,"Can you get them in that open space?"

He followed her gaze onto the road, in between the buildings and nodded.

"Trust me?" She asked.

Draco grinned at her and pulled on one of her curls. "Yes."

Hermione smiled back at him and then sent out a patronus to Harry. She gave the little otter information on their location and asked for an extraction of all six wizards. She also gave him the counterspell to the spell she would be performing.

“All six?” Asked Draco.

She gave him the look.

Don’t get turned on, don’t get turned on.

After taking a deep breath, she finally murmured, "I'm ready."

Maybe, they would be bringing them all into custody.

Draco apparated into the open and said loudly, "Who wants a piece of Malfoy?"

He jogged toward the space and kept circling. Within seconds, he was surrounded by six other wizards, Draco produced a beautiful spherical shield (if he may so say himself) and the six began to cast hexes and curses that dug in and damaged it.

C’mon Granger - thirty-five seconds to go.

Chapter Text

Hermione was already working on casting, she concentrated and whispered under her breath, intention and purpose in every word, weaving the magic together, using a light-hand as she pointed her wand.

A dark ball of cloud appeared above the group, high enough that they didn't notice at first.

Hermione wasn't afraid of dark magic. A witch just needed to know when enough was enough and how to control it, rather than it controlling you.

The ball of cloud increased in size, growing stronger and denser with every word she whispered.

Lightning began to strike within the sphere - it had grown to ten metres in diameter - she paused in the spell. Taking a moment to get the next part right.

Hermione marked the six attackers surrounding Draco with a rune, it hit them hard enough in the back that they staggered forward. The rune shone brightly, the light pulsing gently.

Malfoy looked up at her.

She stood tall and yelled "TENERE EOS!"

The cloud grew tentacle-like arms that shot out and grabbed the six dark wizards. The smokey arms pulled the wizards into the ball. The ball flew higher into the sky and stayed there. The wizards were falling about, swept up in the smoke of the sphere.

She aparated down to Draco, he was looking up, so she did too.

"Fuck me," Draco said with awe.

Hermione swayed slightly, she grabbed Draco’s arm.

He looked down with concern.

"Think I'm gonna faint," she said in a slurred voice and then she lost consciousness.

***

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Please wake up…. Please, please. FUCK!”

Hermione felt herself being lifted up, but even though she tried to do what the voice told her to, she couldn’t obey. She was too tired.

“...swear to Merlin, Harry’s gonna kill me. Where the fuck is that potion?”

She sensed a new place, warmer, it smelled good.

Smelled like him.

“Hermione Jean Granger! You keep this down! Swallow!...”

She felt liquid hit the back of her throat and reflexively she swallowed, but it made her cough.

“Ugh, that was disgusting.”

Hermione battled with the drowning sensation - she opened her eyes and took some slow blinks. Her sight was blurry, her mind was foggy but her senses were coming back.

Malfoy was crouched in front of her. He wiped his face, liquid was dripping down his forehead.

“I don’t mean to be too critical, but you got it in my hair, Granger,” he said lightly. “My hair!”

She coughed again and he ducked.

She realised she was holding on to his forearms, she tried to let go but she was feeling too dizzy and disorientated.

“Just hold on, it’ll take a minute,” Draco murmured. “Breathe.”

She listened to him, taking some shallow breaths, whilst the room came into focus.

The room was mostly white. White sofas, white carpet, white walls, a white orchid in a pot stood on a white side-table.

There was a big white marble fireplace to the left of her and a large window with white gauzy curtains which led onto a small balcony in front of her.

Finally things started to come back online. Her brain fired up.

“I spat on you?” She was appalled.

Draco pulled a face, “It was more like a cough or a dry retch. My fault really, I was a bit over-enthusiastic with the potion.”

“Sorry,” she said, reaching out and touching his wet hair.

He pulled his lips into his mouth and then he got up. Hermione curled her fingers in and put her hand back on her lap.

“Is colour not a posh person thing?” She asked him, indicating the room.

He half smiled, “Haven’t redecorated, you need to ask that question to a Muggle footballer, who I forget the name of.”

She snorted.

“Right, now you are feeling a little better, let me just send Harry a patronus.”

Hermione grabbed his hand, “No!”

Draco turned back towards her with concern.

“Please don’t, I need to give them time to, umm, calm down,” she explained, whilst she messed about with the rolled up cuffs on her blazer. She couldn’t meet his eyes.

To her surprise, Draco laughed. “Ha, you’re in so much trouble. Dark magic user!”

“It’s fine, if you know what you’re doing,” she said, rolling her eyes and lying back on the sofa.

“Yeah, tell that to the legion of Death Eaters in Azkaban,” Draco squeezed her hand and then let go. “I’m just going to get you a drink.”

Hermione lay back for a while. She was pretty sure this was Draco’s flat in London. She wondered whereabouts they were. She sat up, crossed her legs and nosed out of the window. Christ, she realised they were on the posh side of the river.

She noticed her ankle boots were on the floor next to her. Her heart warmed to see he’d slipped them off her feet again.

Malfoy arrived with a beer, a glass of water and what looked like a cup of tea. “Water first, then tea” he ordered. He had those large hands where he could carry a beer and a glass in one palm.

She accepted the water and downed quite a lot of it, whilst he popped the tea on a side table.

“You okay?” he asked. He vaulted lightly over the back of the sofa (not spilling a drop of his beer) and plonked himself next to her

She nodded. Athletic ability was not sexy, at all.

“You sure? You were out for a couple of minutes at least.”

“Yeah, it was just a big one. I forgot about the energy re-balance. As long as I have some food and don’t do any marathons in, like, twenty four hours, I’ll be fine.”

He huffed. “Have you ever done a marathon?”

“What does that mean?” She asked, outraged.

“Granger, there are two very big reasons why you shouldn’t be running about.” He indicated her chest with a nod of his head.

“Fuck you, Malfoy, I can run. Plus, you know, sports bras are a thing.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Sweet Salazar, Granger, all this talk about tits is making me uncomfortable.”

“You bought it up,” she muttered and grabbed her tea.

“That I did. I’m gonna take a quick shower. Be back in five.” She watched as he wandered off.

Malfoy had a telly. That was weird.

He was so cheeky talking about her boobs like that. Kind of nice he had noticed though.

Hermione drank some more of her tea and looked around the large sitting room. There was a plant in the corner, an expensive looking candle on the high mantlepiece and some strange looking art on one of the walls. Was that Draco’s taste?

She heard the slight hum of a shower begin.

Don’t think about it, she warned herself.

Flashes of Draco taking off clothing, his back muscles, him leaning over in the shower. Damn it, Hermione.

She took a deep breath and sipped some more tea. There was a book on the side, she picked it up and read the blurb.

It was a Muggle sci-fi adventure. She started reading. Halfway through chapter two, Malfoy came back into the room in a pair of black jeans and a grey T’shirt, he had socks on but no shoes.

He picked up his beer and sat down next to her.

“It has a cliffhanger ending,” he said, after swallowing a swig of bottle. His hair was still a bit damp and he smelt fresh and delicious.

Hermione closed the book and shook her head solemnly. “What kind of psycho does that?”

Draco snorted.

“I’ve ordered some food, it’s Chinese, I remember Harry saying you liked it,” for the slightest moment, Draco looked unsure.

“Yeah, thanks. I do like it.”

“Great,” relieved he sat back, spreading his knees out wide and drinking his beer. She couldn’t help the smile that twitched the sides of her lips.

He was such a boy sometimes.

Harry’s patronus walked imperiously through the sitting room wall.

Hermione, when you feel brave enough to discuss the ball of fear you held six experienced dark wizards in, please give me a call. They are all in lockup waiting to be processed, which I am grateful for. And tell Draco that he’s supposed to work for me, not you.

“Fuck off, Harry.” Draco said, giving the stag the finger.

“That's hardly professional Malfoy, see me in my office.”

Draco side eyed her. “Ooh, you’d love to be the boss of me.”

“Definitely, I’d be a massive dick too,” Hermione agreed. Then she put her tea down, “Can I use your loo?”

He nodded and pointed to a door. She got up and tried to pull her skirt down. Malfoy watched her attempt and she gave him a weak smile before padding out the room.

It was still a bit steamy in the bathroom, which she hadn’t failed to notice, was bigger than the lounge in the flat. It had black tiles on the walls and lots of chrome. She’d eyed it, chewing her thumbnail - he was very neat. Where was his crap? Deodorant? Cotton buds and all that stuff?

She wiped off the mirror and closed her eyes in defeat. She looked awful. Her high ponytail was now off to the side of her head, eighties style and she had mascara under one of her eyes. She managed to get rid of it with a bit of wet loo roll.

Hermione finger-brushed out her curls the best she could and went for a wee, washed her hands and then rubbed some toothpaste on her teeth with her finger. She also stole some deodorant. She’d found both under the sink. The cupboard was meticulously ordered.

She chewed her lip whilst she looked at herself in the mirror. It’s okay, just eat and then go home. No need to do anything with anyone. Just eat and go, and keep up the conversation, keep it simple.

When she got out, there were two plates of food on the coffee table. Draco came back through the door that led to the kitchen with two more beers in hand.

“Food came, so I just dished it up. Beer okay?”

She sat down and grabbed her plate, “Yeah thanks. Ooh, you got Kung Pao chicken, this stuff is intense...” she popped some in her mouth, grateful that Malfoy had given them forks. She was terrible with chopsticks.

“Is it spicy?” He asked.

She nodded, chewing with relish.

Malfoy got a fork load and ate, he nodded as he chewed and then grabbed a swig of beer. “Yep, that does the job,” he croaked.

She sniggered and kept eating. This was nice. This was okay.

She folded her legs underneath and got comfy. “Thanks for this, you keep taking care of me. It’s very sweet.”

“Words every man wants to hear,” Draco raised his beer to her.

“Oh stop, you don’t care about all that masculinity bullshit.”

He shrugged. She looked briefly at his arms, his tattoo and his long fingers.

She made her eyes raise to his face. “Do you?”

“I don’t think anyone has ever described me as sweet…” he raised an eyebrow.

“Well that’s probably because you aren’t very sweet to them, I have personal experience.” Replied Hermione, she took a swig of her own beer and then said, “You’ve also been a complete prick to me - so what do I know? Maybe my standards are low.”

“Either way, incredible endorsement for me.” Draco grinned.

They chewed for a bit, Hermione started to feel better. The food was delicious. It was weird thinking about Malfoy ordering takeaway but she guessed he was pretty adept in the muggle world, these days.

“What are the names of Ron’s kids again?” he asked, pointing his fork at her.

Hermione burst out laughing. “You dick, you knew I didn’t know.”

He laughed too and nodded.

“That’s bad, I should know. They are sweet little things. I have only seen them a handful of times.”

Draco shook his head with a mouthful of food, he chewed and then swallowed. Hermione watched his throat.

“Why should you? You hardly know him anymore. It’s perfectly acceptable to drift away from your ex.”

“Do you see Pansy?” Hermione asked, scooping up some rice.

“That’s different, Parks and I weren’t ever really a couple. It was more of an arrangement. We were expected to be together - plus it was mostly comfort seeking. We were really fucking miserable.”

“That’s nice,”

Draco looked at her.

“I mean, that you could comfort each other.”

He shrugged, eating another forkful. “She's alright, Parks is.”

Hermione stabbed her chicken a little too hard and it skidded off her plate.

Draco laughed.

She got up and picked it up off the floor. “Sorry,” she muttered while putting it on the side table.

“She gave a great blowjob too,” Draco murmured, wrapped up in his food.

Hermione’s fork rattled on her plate. “Why would you say that?”

Draco was laughing so hard he was holding his stomach.

“Like to get you riled up,”

“It’s offensive to her!”

“Give it up, Granger. Parks would not be offended by that,” Draco stated, after pulling himself together. “Anyway, she was decent, not great by any means.”

Hermione huffed and looked at him.

He grinned at her and grabbed his beer. “Tell me about Mike,”

Hermione shook her head, swallowed a mouthful of egg fried rice and looked out the window. “I have no idea if he gave a good blow job,”

Draco laughed again, “Was he good to you though?”

“Mike? Yeah, he was nice.”

“What happened then?”

Hermione put her plate down and sat back on the sofa, grabbing her beer as she settled.

“Umm, I liked him but it wasn’t, you know…”

“What?”

“Worth it,” she finished lamely.

Draco waited.

“You know about the rules right? The muggle and magic folk decree? You have to be completely sure. You have to commit absolutely.”

Draco nodded.

“I couldn’t do it,” Hermione sipped her beer.

They sat for a while. Draco put his empty plate on the table and sat back with his beer.

“Was it also because he was from Croydon?” Draco asked slyly.

Hermione's eyes widened, “How did you find that out?” she shoved him.

“Granger, he plays rugby and is a real accountant. He sounds about as interesting as a sack of shit.”

“Malfoy! He is a lovely person!”

“Yeah, a real bad boy. He likes collecting pipes.”

“His Grandfather was a pipe smoker, it was sweet!” her voice has risen a few octaves, she tried to contain herself. “And stop it, how do you know so much stuff about him?”

“Darling, I’m a product of your creation. You made me what I am.”

“Don’t be a dick, you know I don’t like what Shacklebolt and Harry signed you up for,” she looked down at her lap.

“Why, Granger? What is the problem?” He moved forward and made her look at him.

Things had changed, the lightness and teasing was over.

She stared at him, unsure and wary. That feeling of being on the precipice of something different. Something real.

Her heart sped up.

Looking at Malfoy was like looking into a storm. He seemed so distant but could blow you away within a moment's notice.

She chose her words carefully.

“Because, it was never supposed to be you.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted you safe,” Hermione looked out of the window, anything to not look in his eyes.

“Safe? I didn’t deserve to be safe!” he laughed mockingly. “Are you kidding me? After what I did?”

“It wasn’t you, you were a child…”

“Hermione, even before any of that shit, I was still a bully and an obnoxious prick. Remember? All those fucking horrible things I said to you?”

She gasped.

“What?”

“You called me Hermione,” she said.

“It is your name, fucks sake. Focus! Did you hear what I said? It was abusive, how I behaved.”

“I forgave you for all of that,” she wafted it away with her hand.

“I haven’t even apologised! Merlin!” He stood up and walked away.

He put his hand on the mantelpiece and then turned back towards her. “Don’t you get it? I don’t get to be safe, I don’t get to have nice things. After the way I treated people. I was a Death Eater, Hermione. That means I had to prove myself to even take the Dark Mark - so whatever you think you know, I can tell you now, it was much, much worse.”

He took a breath and rammed his hand in his hair. “You think Katie wants me to be okay? Or Rosmerta? You think they are okay with me having a nice life? I’m pretty sure using an ‘unforgivable’ on a person is a good enough reason for them to not only be hated - but placed in Azkaban for the rest of their life.”

He took a breath and wiped his mouth. “If Katie Bell had actually held that necklace with her whole hand, she’d be dead, Granger. Dead. And I knew it and I still did it.”

Hermione sat staring at him, “Stop it, you are only telling me one side of the story. I know this side - tell me yours. What was said to you? Huh? ‘Hey, just pass this necklace to Dumbledore for me’. I know that things don’t work like that.”

He looked away.

“It was your mother, right? All of it was for her.”

He closed his eyes. “It doesn’t matter, I still chose her over another life.”

“So would I! Jesus, you think you’re the only one who did some fucked up shit? I kept Rita Skeeter in a jar, for a year, when I was fourteen.”

Draco looked up at her and laughed, “What?”

Hermione swallowed and looked down into her lap. “She kept writing these fucking awful, untrue, stories about Harry and me, and I hated them. I was so young, she was making me out to be some teenage slut and I’d never even kissed anyone! I got so angry about it, so I worked out she was an unregistered animagus - an insect. I made an unbreakable jar and caught her. I kept her in my room and fed her leaves.”

Draco stared at her.

“My roommates thought she was an experiment, so did my parents.”

Hermione laughed softly, “And, er talking about that, I made my parents think I didn’t exist, I also obliviated other family members and school friends and doctors, teachers. So, you know, no one knows who the fuck I am where I grew up. I have zero ties to the Muggle world. Pretty messed up, huh? But hey, I’m part of the Golden Trio so I didn’t get the prison sentence.”

She took a deep breath. “Marietta Edgecombe had to have a skin graft, Malfoy. She had to get Muggle surgery to take the scars off her face.”

Draco sniggered. “That one was a good one.”

“Malfoy! It was an awful thing to do.”

“What did it say? Snitch?”

“Sneak,” Hermione muttered.

“God, you’re incredible.”

“What?”

“You’re so fucking incredible. What you did today, it was so controlled. So powerful. And you did it with your hair in a pony-tail, wearing a miniskirt. No dark mask, no dark robes, no scary tattoos. Just you, and a fuck load of book reading.”

He shook his head in awe for a moment, and then rubbed his face.

“You're different from me, you’re not scared of anything! You were tortured in my home, for fucks sake. By a family member and you didn’t break, not once. And I did nothing…”

“What do you mean you did nothing? You did everything! You kept us alive, you didn’t tell them it was us. You kept your mouth shut and you won us the war… and what’s more it was you that kept me from breaking. You held my gaze, you connected with me…” Hermione felt tears in her eyes. She wiped them away. “You didn’t let me feel alone. I knew you couldn’t save me. They’d have killed all of us. Your eyes helped me stay silent. They helped me Draco, they helped me survive it.”

“No, that wasn’t how it was Hermione, you don’t need to tell me this stuff. Don’t make me out to be someone I wasn’t. I know I don’t deserve it. And I certainly don’t get to have this!” he gestured at them both.

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head.

She stood up. “Do you mean me? You don’t deserve to have me?”

He stared at her.

“Why? Because I’m the girl in the Golden Trio? The Maiden right? Not to be spoiled…”

“What? No!” Malfoy looked horrified.

“Sure fucking feels like it sometimes. You know I organised most of it, right? Kept all of our stuff in a bag as we travelled all over the country, and I had to learn so many spells, charms and hexes to ensure we survived. I learnt to cast wards that Shacklebolt doesn’t even know how to do. I was eighteen! And you know? They still expected more from me, ‘What's next Hermione?’”

She looked at him, chewed her lip.

“That’s why I walked away. I needed a break from them both. I wanted something for myself,” She started moving towards him. “And back then, I didn’t know what that was.”

Hermione stood in front of Malfoy. He was so tall, so big.

“You may not think you deserve me. You may not want me, I don't know… But you're right about one thing. I’m not afraid, not anymore and now I do know what I want.”

He looked down at her, the storm flashing, fierce and utterly irresistible. “And what’s that?”

“I want you,” she said, chin raised, arms lightly by her side, her fingers shaking just slightly.

Chapter Text

Draco took a half beat to let the words sink in. Then he grabbed her, spun her around and pushed her into the nearest wall. Leaning over her, he sunk his hand under all her soft hair, held the base of her head and crushed his lips to hers.

He had never been so turned on in his whole life.

I want you.

She was everything and he had wanted her for so long. It was too much, he wasn’t holding anything back. He didn’t think he could. There was no finesse with this kiss, it wasn’t gentle. She was holding his shoulders, grasping them, keeping him close to her. He had both his hands on the side of her face.

Oh God, it was too intense.

He side apparated them to his bedroom.

“Huh?” she mumbled, breaking the kiss to get her bearings.

“I’ve got to have you,” Draco whispered, kissing her neck and holding her close to him. “Let me have you.”

“Yes,” she breathed out and moved her hands to his t-shirt, trying to yank it up.

Draco stepped back, feeling wired and a little light headed. “Take it all off,” he gestured at her clothes. “If I do it, I’ll rip them.”

He grabbed the back of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. He was gratified to see Hermione stop removing her jacket to look admiringly at his torso. He flexed and her eyes raised to reach his, her own desire blatant in her gaze despite the scars left by the old Sectumsempra spell.

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that,” Draco started undoing his jeans.

She bit her lip with a smile and continued shedding her clothing. He watched as she took her top off and made an audible groan when he saw her standing in her bra.

That was all he could take, he shoved off his socks and launched himself at her. Taking her to the bed.

“I wasn’t finished!” She exclaimed as he leaned over, slipping a hand under her back to undo her bra whilst simultaneously kissing her.

“You took too long,” he replied, in a throaty voice he almost didn’t recognise as his own.

He got her down to her pants in record time, smiling at her embarrassment as he pulled off her tights - he’d had to stand up, to whip those bad boys off.

He was still standing over her when she was just in her cotton knickers.

She raised her chin, letting him look. Nothing sexier than a woman owning her body. He fell onto her, catching himself on his forearms.

“You are the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, as he leant over her.

He moved in closer, putting his lips a breath away from her ear and whispered. “I’ve wanted to see you like this, in my bed, for such a long time.”

He kissed her neck, licking and sucking as he cradled himself between her open legs. He moved lightly and she gasped.

“Problem is, sweetheart, now you are here? I don’t think I can let you leave.” He moved down her body, kissing and sucking around her breasts. She arched her back, eyes tightly closed and held onto his head, pushing him to where she wanted him.

It was his pleasure, Jesus, her tits were perfect. He sucked her nipple and felt her enjoyment as her whole body nearly came off the bed.

“Nope, you are not to leave this bed.” Draco stated.

Granger was incredibly responsive - which made him feel like a horny teenager.

His hand trailed down her curves and then slipped into her pants. He was thrilled to learn she was dripping wet, he lightly teased her pussy, running his fingers around all the important bits but never making contact.

She made a frustrated noise and he grinned and then slowly put a finger inside her, she moaned in response. He used his thumb to rub softly around her clit.

"That's right, baby," he murmured as she moved against him. He added another finger inside of her."You take what you want, you chase that feeling, cos it won't be long until I've got you sitting on my big dick."

"Oh fuck," she whispered.

"Uhuh, that's it."

"J-just like that, don't… don't speed up or…"

"I know. Same speed, same pressure. I've got you. Just go for it… I can do this all day. So beautiful, so sexy, you feel so good."

He kept it up, understanding that she needed his voice and the stimuli. Draco kissed her, and played with her breasts, and took his time. Loving the noises she made, and the way she looked with her eyes closed.

When she was getting closer, chasing a bit more pressure, he curled his fingers up and pressed on the inside wall of the clit. And then all at once it happened, he felt her sweet pussy start to tense and her body come apart.

"Oh my god… oh my GOD!" She moaned into her release. She opened her eyes, bewildered and a little surprised.

He kissed her and then sat up, slipping his fingers into his mouth and sucking them. She watched him, her eyes half lidded.

He took off his boxer shorts.

"You ready, love? I'm gonna get one more out of you."

Surprisingly, that's when she took the reins back.

Hermione slipped off her own pants, throwing them on the floor and then she pushed Draco onto his back, and threw a leg over him.

"My turn to do some work,"

He smiled up at her, she was absolutely beautiful. Her hair was all over the place, and she looked dazed but determined. Seeing her come had been one of the nicest things he'd ever experienced.

"Let's see what you've got Granger,"

She arched an eyebrow. "Hush," she said, as she grabbed his dick. She took a moment, rubbing her thumb over the head, which was ecstasy in itself, and then she looked back at him with surprise.

"Good for you," she exclaimed with a smirk. And then she positioned herself above it and pushed it lightly inside.

All coherent thought leaked out of Draco's brain as Hermione slowly sat down on him.

When she began moving, he started to panic. He was not going to last. She was a Goddess and he was going to make a fool of himself.

Oh fuck, she was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. She was moving, in a figure of eight, her hips twirling confidently, she grabbed her hair and was holding it up above her head, biting her lips and moaning.

"Hermione, fuck, slow down… I can't… Just wait a sec… Fuck, you have to… " He held onto her hips, his fingers digging in.

She shook her head and gave him an evil smile. "Cmon Malfoy, just let it happen. I can do this all day. You owe me…" she leaned down and kissed him. "... one." she whispered in his mouth, biting his bottom lip and letting it go, as she sat back up.

Fuck me.

He couldn't help it, he held her tightly and started to move within her. Faster and deeper, she moaned and writhed above him, closing her eyes and holding those perfect breasts.

He came in a wave, so hard, so fucking good.

The bloody witch.

They lay facing each other, side by side. Out of breath and gazing into each other's eyes in the pleasant hum of post orgasm comfort.

Hermione gave a dazed smile. Pretty teeth, he thought and smiled back.

She was the loveliest thing and she was here, in his bed.

Finally.

She reached over and rubbed her thumb lightly on his lip, he kissed her hand.

"That was… mmm," she began and then she closed her eyes, sighed and lay on her back. He got up, leaning on his elbows and moved over her.

Needing to look into her face. She re-opened her eyes and smiled at him.

"It was… what?" He asked, smoothing over her hair and searching her eyes.

"It was… okay," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"Just okay?" Draco frowned and then she grinned and started trailing her fingers down his back. Making swirly patterns, his skin tingling after her light touch.

Little witch.

"It was… long overdue," she admitted.

"Oh yeah?"

Hermione nodded, reached up and drew him down for a kiss. She then moved his head, so he was lying on her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair as he listened to her heart beat.

Draco felt a sense of wonder. He didn't think he'd ever been held like this. He relaxed into the area between her chest and her shoulder, as she smoothed his hair and laid another kiss on his forehead.

"Yeah," she continued. "I used to fantasise about it. Even at school."

"What? Even when I was…"

"Yeah, I was a teenager,” she scoffed. “and you were the hottest guy in school. Even if you were a xenophobic twat… I couldn't help it."

She started using her nails, just lightly, as she groomed his hair. It was making his scalp tingle.

"When Ron started seeing Lavender… I felt so alone and lost. I remember, one time, seeing you and Pansy. You seemed so sure of yourself and so much older. You'd just grasp her chin and then really kiss her, like a proper grown up. We were fifteen. It was incredibly sexy and I'd got all this pent up lust, you know? So I'd pretend you weren't 'you' or the version of you I knew back then, and then when everyone was asleep I'd get myself off thinking about you kissing me like that."

Draco wrapped his arms around her. Holding her tight to him. He sighed into her body.

"Draco?"

"It's just a lot. You saying stuff like this…"

"Oh umm, I'm sorry," she tried to move but he squeezed her tighter.

"Not like that," he looked up at her. "It's because… it's just because, I've wanted to have you for as long as I can remember."

"You don't have to say that, I know it wouldn't have been like that for you…"

"Shut up, Granger! You got to tell me that wholesomely, erotic story, which is saved in the wank bank, by the way. Let me tell you something just as wholesome but incredibly fucking shitty."

"Okay," she murmured, resuming her stroking.

"When I was eleven and I got on the train to Hogwarts for the first time, I was a little unsure of myself. Theo and I got a compartment and then we went for a wander. And there was this girl marching around the place, talking about all the books she'd read in preparation for school, helping people find familiars and other lost things and she was just so sure of herself, that she was happy to make the trolley witch, give a detailed explanation of every single fucking sweet she had as 'she wasn't from the magical world, she was, what's known as a Muggleborn,' until she settled on a packet of sugar quills."

He felt Hermione squirm and huff. He held her tighter, kissing her breast and then her neck. He looked up into her eyes.

"I watched this girl navigate Hogwarts like a pro and then best me in every subject apart from Flying. I was eleven, I had no idea what 'wanting someone' was all about, but I knew I wanted you. I told my parents about you and Lucius threw a fucking fit, talking about breeding and that awful word, and that if I didn't beat you in every subject, I wasn't fit to be a Malfoy and all that wank… and I tried, I tried so hard to beat you, but I couldn't, and so all that wanting, turned to bullying and hating. As you have probably figured out, Lucius bullied me, so I took it out on you. The only thing I've ever truly wanted in my life."

Hermione caressed his face. Her eyes, a little watery. He leant up and kissed her softly.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Hermione. I hate that I did it. I was so cruel to you."

She smiled at him. "I know, it's okay. I'm really okay about it. But thank you. It's nice to hear you say it.”

He watched her closely, trying to figure out if she meant it but she rolled her eyes with a smirk and said, “And just so you know, it's saved in the wank bank." She tapped her temple.

He laughed.

"'I'm so sorry Hermione,' oh yeah! that's the fucking stuff." She made a buzzing noise.

"Why are you buzzing?"

"It's the noise of my vibrator,"

Draco's eyes lit up.

She laughed.

“Do you have one?”

She gave him a weird look. “I’m pretty sure every woman has one,”

“Really? That’s hot.”

"Anyway, nobody wanted bossy, eleven year old Hermione!" She huffed out a laugh.

"I did," Draco grasped her chin, smiling slyly. "And if I knew, fifteen year old you, wanked and thought about me? Christ, Hermione, the empty classrooms and cupboards we could have fucked in."

"Yeah?"

"Oh baby, it would have been terrible - I was a selfish fucker back then, but it would have been fun trying." He kissed her, as she laughed into his mouth.

"I'm sorry about Lucius - I'm sorry he bullied you because of me," she said suddenly.

Draco shrugged and shook his head. "Would have been something else, if not you. He was a psychopathic, narcissistic dickhead. He made my mothers life a misery. Every now and then, she tries to tell me he 'had his moments'."

Hermione reached up and smoothed his frown away. "That might be for her as well as for you though,"

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged, "Guilt that her son had Lucius as a father. Her trying to make the best out of a bad situation. Or maybe in the early days, before his Dark Mark got stronger, he had been different perhaps?"

Draco looked at her. She was right. Narcissa would feel guilty and there may have been better or brighter days before he went to school. He had some nicer memories of his father but the rest tended to overcrowd the good ones.

"Women with tits this big," he began with an affectionate squeeze. "Don't get to be clever too."

"Fuck off Malfoy, women can be whatever they want," she retorted, but desire flooded her eyes.

She liked it when he was a bit vulgar. That would work.

Draco took both of her wrists and put them above her head.

"Women who have bodies this sexy, should shut the fuck up and do as I tell them too."

Hermione's mouth opened slightly and she licked her lips. She blinked and subtly arched her back a little.

"That's better," Draco said, holding her wrists with one hand. He grasped her chin and kissed her roughly. She moaned into his mouth.

"Good girl," he said against her lips. "Now keep these hands up here whilst I go down there. Don't move them Hermione, I mean it."

She nodded, looking dazed and needy.

He slowly and lazily kissed a trail down her body.

He got two more out of her before the night was over.

Chapter Text

Hermione padded silently around the bedroom, shards of light coming in from the slightly open curtains, making it a little easier to manoeuvre around the unfamiliar room. She had her tights and her jacket in her hand but was mostly dressed.

She felt exhausted, but as she slipped out the door, she knew five things.

Number one, Draco Malfoy had the most amazing arse she'd ever seen in her life. When she'd woken up, and had started quietly getting her clothes back on, Draco had been sleeping on his front, arms under the pillow, one leg out long and one leg bent. And his sculpted back and arse were visible in the dim light of his bedroom.

Hermione reckoned she stared at it for a good ten-minutes before visibly shaking herself and remembering that she had to get to work.

She wanted to bite it.

Number two, his bedroom was as ‘minimal’ as the living room. Decor, nick nacks and photos were not seemingly part of Malfoy's retinue. From what she'd seen of the room, before they'd fallen asleep, it was another high ceilinged, white room. His bed was huge and the bedclothes were again, white. They were soft and comfy and they smelled just like him, but it wasn't homey.

She tried to think of the Cornwall house but had only really been in the study. Had it been as bare as this place? She couldn't remember.

Number three, was that Draco had no fear of her using her magic and he had no ego about the fact she was talented.

He had laughed at her being a dark magic user, even after his history. He also understood it and trusted her. That made her feel an amalgamation of different things. He understood the reason she used it, he knew she was under no illusions of when and where was appropriate. He didn't have to remind her that it was dangerous.

Big eye roll.

He laughed at some of her immoral choices from when she was a kid, but she wondered whether that had been for her benefit, to diminish some of the concerns she had about her childhood.

Number four, he had been waiting for her to tell him that she wanted him. And when she had, it seemed to break a barrier for him, he had thrown himself at her and was entirely happy to tell her how much he'd always wanted her, in quite a forceful way.

There was no ambiguity, he was telling her that he liked her and although there hadn't been an admission of love (maybe a smidge too soon) she felt so good about it. He wasn't afraid of sharing anything.

He'd been given a green light and had explained his thoughts and memories of his childhood and the unfairness he had been chained by.

And finally, Number five, Malfoy was unbelievable in the sack - sex like that was hard to come by. Three orgasms? On the first night? If she wasn't already ridiculously attracted to him, that would have been enough to never leave his side again. It had been instinctual, he had listened to her body without asking any questions, which was literally unheard of.

Somebody, somewhere had spent some time informing Draco about how to make a woman feel really, really good in bed… and he has listened.

God he’d listened.

Hermione apparated back to her own flat, showered, got into comfy clothes, slapped on some makeup, to make her look ‘not dead’, and then floo’d to the DMLE.

“How hungry are you?” Alice eyed her forty minutes later.

“Ravenous,” replied Hermione, attacking her second pastry. She brushed the fallen crumbs off her chest and sighed in relief.

Alice sat cross-legged in the chair opposite her desk and waited for Hermione to swallow.

“So, just to be clear. We are talking three? Three times?” she asked, sceptically

Hermione nodded.

“Three? Really? No bullshit?”

Hermione nodded and took a swig of coffee.

“I don’t believe you,” Alice exclaimed, wrinkling her nose. “It’s impossible.”

Hermione wiped her mouth. “I know! Don’t you think I know? Jesus… I think my brain exploded at one point. He’s sssooooo good, it makes you feel…” she wafted her hand around searching for the word.

“Inadequate?”

Hermione pointed at her. “Exactly. When we started, he was chatting away to me, you know, sexy stuff, and I was deathly silent because I was so turned on and overwhelmed, I felt like a sex zombie.”

Alice creased up, “That’s hilarious.”

“Honestly, it was pretty epic.” Hermione shook her head and drank some more coffee.

“I mean, I thought George was conscientious.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, like he went down on me for a good twenty-five minutes, and I was so close, so many times but it kept going away, you know?”

Hermione nodded sadly.

“I felt bad for the guy's jaw, I was a bit worried he wouldn’t be able to talk for a week. So I went on top and you know when you lean over…”

“Oh yeah, to get that pressure…” Hermione gestured to her just below her stomach.

“And he cottoned on real quick and he held my head and pushed me down further, like deeper? And, oh my God I went off like a rocket.”

“Amazing!” Hermione grinned at her.

“It was,” Alice said, smiling and thinking about it.

“Yeah! Amazing!” Said Harry from the doorway.

“Harry!” Hermione frowned. “That was private!”

“Your door was open,” he gestured to the very open door he was standing in.

“Then you should have made some noise, I’m sorry Alice…”

Alice waved her away.

“Yes I’m sorry Alice, but it is nice to hear that George is doing a good job,” he smiled at her.

Alice hastily got up out of the chair. “It was teamwork actually,” she shrugged.

“Makes the dreamwork…” Replied Harry.

Hermione face-palmed.

Alice laughed and said, “I’ll let you guys catch up.”

Hermione waved as she shut the door.

“Firstly, you get a bollocking,” Harry said, sitting in the chair Alice had vacated.

She huffed out a laugh. “Go right ahead.”

“It was dangerous Hermione, that was some seriously dark magic. It scared the living shit out of most of my team. I had to tell them it had been a spell they’d done to themselves, by accident.”

Hermione leant back in her chair, her head falling back, as she sighed.

She came back up and eyed him “Did you use the counter spell?”

“Yes,”

“Was anyone hurt?”

He shook his head.

“Are they all locked up safely for processing?”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Yes, but you know there will be an inquiry into how we were able to intercept them and contain them.”

“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” she said, smirking.

“Hermione!”

She sighed again. “Harry, I know you don’t agree with my methods but believe me, Kinglsey doesn’t give a shit. If there is an inquiry, he’ll sort it.”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t like it, H.”

“I know you don’t, but they were going to kidnap him. They were going to take him forcefully and they had some pretty nasty curses ready for him. He was outnumbered and losing when I got there.” Hermione put her hands on the desk in front of her. “I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

Harry rubbed his face. “You can’t let it be personal, H.”

“Ha! Says you.”

Harry gave her a sardonic look. “I have changed since school, thanks very much.”

“Maybe so, but what’s done is done.” She shrugged.

“That’s not the end of the conversation,” Harry frowned.

“Yeah it is,” Hermione picked up the other half of her pastry and took a bite.

Harry sighed and put his elbows on his knees. “I just worry about you,” he muttered.

She chewed and swallowed. “I know,” she nodded. It was hard to be angry with him when he looked so glum.

“Want to know a secret?”

Harry perked up. “Yes,”

“Malfoy and I …” Hermione made an 0 with her left forefinger and her thumb, and put her right forefinger through it a few times.

Harry gasped. “Really?”

She nodded.

“Dirty bastards!” Harry exclaimed with excitement and a bit of surprise.“Do you like him?”

She nodded. “Yes,”

“Are you going to do it again?”

“I fucking hope so,” she said wistfully.

At that point, the door opened and Draco walked through and said, “You called,”

Harry laughed and got up. “Nice to see you mate,” he said, patting him on the shoulder.

Whilst he turned to talk to Harry, Hermione tackled him from the back. Running into him and wrapping her arms around his middle.

“Oof,” said Draco. “Steady on,” but he turned fully so he could hug her back.

“Hi,” she said, looking up at him with excitement.

She couldn’t believe he was here. There had definitely been a part of her that had worried he would go AWOL.

“Hi,” he looked down at her, his handsome face alight with wonder. “Heard that you wanted to do it again.”

She smirked. “Eavesdropping is rude.”

“You’re rude,” he leant down. “C’mere.”

She went up on her tip-toes and kissed him ‘hello’.

Harry slipped quietly out the door.

“Where did you go?” he asked, picking her up and seating her on her desk.

“Work,” she said, smiling at him.

“I distinctly remember telling you that you weren’t allowed to leave my bed,” Draco stated. “And yet, here we are.”

“Where’s Harry gone?” Hermione frowned suddenly, looking for him.

“Away, hopefully, and don’t change the subject.” Draco brushed the shoulders of her cardy. “The only thing you have going for you at the moment, is the fact you’re wearing this cardigan. I love it,” he said, playing with one of the big buttons in the middle.

A tingle of desire ran through her body.

“The only thing? Why do you like my cardy so much? Everyone hates it.”

“Yes, you will of course require punishment for your disobedience,” he leant down and nuzzled her neck.

“For leaving your bed?” She closed her eyes and shivered, whilst wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Mmm,hmm.”

“Will it be kinky?”

“Fuck, Hermione,” Draco groaned into her shoulder and held her tightly. “Yes, it will be if you want it to be.”

She smiled and took a deep sniff of him. He smelled wonderful.

“Did you just sniff me?” He asked, looking at her weirdly.

She laughed and nodded.

“Will you wear this cardigan with nothing underneath?”

It was her turn to look at him weirdly. “If I must, why do you like it so much?”

“Reminds me of Professor Sprout, she had the biggest knockers - had so many wanks over…”

She shoved him off her laughing. “Malfoy, that's awful!”

He grinned and reached back for her.

***

Draco Malfoy had been in very few relationships over the years. He had spent time with women, usually for no more than a few months, but he tended to keep his distance. If the ladies in question were witches, he would be very clear that he had certain commitments for his family (utter bollocks) which meant he would be unable to attend dinners / meet parents etc.

And with Muggle ladies, he said he had a job that meant he was usually out of the country, so was unable to attend whatever they had going on in their life. He was always very clear that he didn’t have a lot of time available for boyfriendly - stuff.

Either way, his relationship know-how was limited and it made him feel a bit off kilter. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to be available and things like ‘work’ were getting in the way of what he wanted to be doing - which was mainly Hermione Granger.

One thing that consistently amused him was how affectionate she was. He had known she was a ‘toucher’, he had watched, at Hogwarts, longingly and usually in stoney silence, as she wrapped an arm around Longbottom, the youngest Weasel, the dumbest Weasel, Hazzy P and any of her other friends, and just general acquaintances.

It had hurt, physically hurt his soul, that it would never be him.

But now, things were different.

His week, thus far, had been documented like so;

Meeting for dinner, at a busy restaurant in muggle London. Waiting around the corner for her to apparate - taking his eyes off the ball for literally one second and reading a text from Blaise, had resulted in her tackling him, again from behind.

“Draco!” she cried enthusiastically!

“Oof,” he said, taking the hit like a total man, and not taking two steps forward and almost falling over a bollard.

“Christ Granger!”

The next day he visited her at work again. As he was exchanging Quidditch theories with Marcus Flint, down on the lower floor, she got him again and almost took him out.

All he heard was “Oh my God, you’re here!” and then years of Auror training kicked in and he was able, at least to turn, and put an arm around her.

“Hi!” she said as she hung off his neck.

He couldn’t stop the grin as he looked at her.

“Decorum, Love, please,” he said as he leaned to give her a kiss.

He didn’t even care, as he glanced up to see Flint walk away shaking his head and muttering, “What the actual fuck was that?”

By that evening, he had it down. They had agreed to meet Harry, Theo and Blaise at The Leaky for a few drinks. He was standing at the bar getting in a round, Hermione was working a little late.

Blaise chatted to him as he waited for his order.

“I don’t think the Falcons have had a better season, to be honest,” Blaise said, as he leaned on the bar. “All down to that fantastic Chaser.”

“Yeah, she’s cracking. Flint was saying that they’d paid an obscene amount for her transfer,” replied Draco whilst holding up four fingers to the barkeep and indicating their empty pint glasses.

“Oh, hey, Granger just walked in…” Blaise commented.

Draco’s mind went into full alert, he dropped his wallet on the bar, pushed Blaise out of the way, turned around and put a slight bend in his knees with his hands out, just in time to catch her, as she launched herself at him.

“Hi,” she breathed excitedly, looking utterly gorgeous in a jumper and jeans with her hair in a french plait. She wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Granger,” he smirked down at her.

“Nice catch,”

“Thank you,” he squeezed her arse. Her eyes widened and whilst she was about to admonish him, he kissed her, chasing her tongue until she acquiesced and met him with his full on snog.

What he had learned so far was that being in a relationship with Granger meant you had to be ready for that affection. It was a ‘bat to the face’ of affection, that, if you weren’t careful, would literally knock you down.

And he loved every minute of it.

She was a complete weirdo, he thought affectionately.

On the weekend, he invited her to the Cornwall house, and they wrapped up warm and walked along the beach together. He held her gloved hand, as she chatted to him and he felt an endearing sense of peace wash over for him.

This coupled with the bloom that was nestled in his chest was making him feel incredibly emotional.

The sea was fairly quiet, but waves rolled in nonchalantly, nevertheless. The sky was a peaceful grey and the rain held off.

Granger’s hair was covered with a bobble hat, but she had left it down and the curls whipped about her in the slight wind that came inland.

He interrupted her, “Can I just…? Sorry, I did want to know about the Nifflers mating habits and how MACUSA should update their general regulations around the spread of their colonies.”

She looked at him ruefully. “You could have just said ‘Granger, this is boring, please stop talking.”

He snorted. “It wasn’t! Honestly, love, everything you tell me is worth knowing. I needed to update myself on Niffler’s relationship status and you, my gorgeous girl, have filled me in. If anything, I’m grateful. I wish more people would update me on ‘need to know’ magical creature information.”

She hit him, none too gently, in the stomach.

“Oof,” he said, in a manly tone.

“You see,” he wheezed, “everything you give me is precious, even a jab to the sternum.”

She rubbed it in apology and then, almost like she couldn’t help herself, she took her glove off and slipped her hand under his coat, jumper and t-shirt. Her soft, warm hand felt ridiculously lovely on his stomach.

He smiled at her and then couldn’t help himself, “Do you remember the court day?”

Hermione’s hands stilled. They stopped walking. She stood in front of him and nodded.

“You saved me that day,” he said, watching her put her glove back on.

Hermione glanced at the sea, her hair whipping around her, her eyes watery. She cleared her throat.

“They wanted a scapegoat. Harry and I wouldn’t give them you… or Narcissa.”

He reached out and held her hands. Her eyes reached his.

“I thought of you daily, in that place,” he continued quietly. “You gave me hope.”

“Azkaban has a residual magic that does not allow ‘good’ feelings,” she parroted softly. “A prisoner won’t feel positive emotions within the building. A deep sense of remorse is focused on any inmate and a numbness that centres around apathy.”

A couple of tears slipped out of her eyes.

He blinked furiously and chewed his lips so the tears wouldn’t come to him.

He cleared his throat. “It didn’t matter, it happened anyway.” He looked out at the rolling waves, not brave enough to look into her eyes. “Your magic has always been in your ability to reach people, even if they had told themselves that you weren’t to be wanted.”

He felt her wrap her arms around him and hold him tightly. She sobbed into his chest.

Draco put his chin on her head and squeezed her into his body.

Chapter Text

Hermione’s team had been working hard following the threads that the six dark wizards had given Harry after the attack on Draco. All the information and evidence was pointing towards something big and even though she believed Draco was safe enough (whilst he didn’t go on assignment and stayed within public places or his security conscious homes) - something was coming.

She just didn’t know what.

The six attackers were only told so much by the person in charge, who was always hooded and wore a mask. Their information was limited, no matter how much veritaserum they had. Truthful answers counted for shit when a person didn’t truly know.

It was frustrating, because she wanted to be on top of it but there seemed to be something she was missing. In her heart, she didn’t really understand why Draco was the target. As an ex Death Eater it made sense in a way but his attack didn’t really fit in with the MO of the playbook. Voldemort’s plan had been about kidnapping people who were useful to his search for the Elder wand; Olivander had been crucial for his research. The playbook would suggest then that somebody equally crucial would be next. Such as a high-profile person, and as much as she regarded Draco as someone incredibly important, in reality he had moved into wizarding obscurity.

Shacklebolt or Harry would be more obvious targets - symbols from the past. People who had been on the right side and had fought for good.

It was bugging her and no matter how many times herself and Alice played around with the theory, she couldn’t work it out.

Of course, in her downtime, she wasn’t really thinking about the case at all. As soon as she left the DMLE office, she was swept up in a whirlwind of Malfoy-ness that left her dizzy and in a heart fluttering mess.

As ‘possible’ boyfriends went, Draco was skilled to an alarming rate. He was sincere, romantic, sexy, funny and comforting. He didn’t shy away from any subject, seemingly wore his heart on his sleeve and wanted nothing more than to please her and see her smile.

She hadn’t laughed as hard in her life, when he told her the time he had spent learning how to breakdance and Narcissa had caught him, with low slung jeans and a backwards cap on.

They ate dinner out mostly, although she had cooked for him once or twice. But at the house in Cornwall, he proudly showed her his breakfast skills, by whipping up the best pancakes she'd had in her life.

When she was eating he kept looking over to see if she liked it.

She smiled when she thought of him and she thought of him all the time.

Hermione was able to admit that she was boisterously affectionate. Ron and Mike had laughed nervously at first, but ultimately, had politely and firmly asked her to tone it down a little.

Draco, on the other hand, had started to actually catch her. He had a sixth sense about when she would do it and always gave her the same look as her Uncle's miniature schnauzer when she walked in the door.

Tail wag et al.

He seemed genuinely pleased to see her and seemingly wasn’t aware of other people's presence when she was around. Being Draco Malfoy’s sole focus was intense but incredibly, heart wrenchingly wonderful.

All of it; being with him, talking to him, being around him, felt like the piece that was missing, and it terrified her a little bit.

***

The Nott annual Quidditch match was something that Hermione was not looking forward to. Draco on the other hand was intensely excited about it. Everyone played. Everyone. That meant that she had to play and she was dreading getting on that stupid broom.

Narcissa was literally the only person not playing. And that was the other problem. Instead of meeting Narcissa one on one in a nice tea room in Diagon Alley, Hermione had to meet her officially as Draco’s (girlfriend / lover / fuck buddy?) thing in front of people.

Wonderful.

They floo’d into Theo’s grand house from Draco’s flat, and as he was being quite attentive of getting nonexistent floo powder off her arse, she heard his mothers dulcet tones welcoming them.

“Darling, I think Hermione is positively clear from floo powder, thanks to your vigilant ministrations,” Narcissa said, in an amused voice.

“Mother, how are you?” He grinned, walking over to kiss her cheek.

“Well, thank you,”

Hermione tried to change the colour of her burning face to a warm pink, rather than fiery red before she too, approached the mother of the man she’d been naked with an hour previously.

“Narcissa, it’s lovely to see you again,” Hermione managed weakly. She shared a cheek kiss with the older woman, who smelt and looked expensive and demur.

“You too, we must go for dinner soon. I will have you to myself, Hermione.” she replied ruefully, glancing at her son. “If not only for us to chat more about St Mungo’s.”

Hermione smiled genuinely. “I’d love that, there so much to be done and I’d desperately like an input on the children's ward, if you have that in your plans.”

As Narcissa opened her mouth to answer, her son interrupted her. “Not playing today, Mother? Or are you still banned from last year?”

She raised an eyebrow, “Don’t be cheeky. I’m here to play hostess, as Theo and Harry are both playing. They have decided to both captain a team so don’t be surprised if you’re on different sides. Harry was desperate to have Hermione on his team.”

“Bloody Gryffindors,” grumbled Malfoy.

They walked through to the grounds outside and Hermione greeted Harry and Theo, saying a brief hello to Blaise. They were drinking mulled wine, and she was grateful to her loaned quidditch leathers, as they were keeping her warm. Even if they creaked when she walked and made her look like a squat, leather footstool.

“Excited?” asked Harry, smiling at her despondency.

“Ecstatic,” she deadpanned.

He laughed. “C’mon, you might enjoy it. We don’t play like we do at school. It’s just fun. Plus Theo spiked the mulled wine with a french Brandy.”

“Wonderful, drunk wizards on broomsticks. This all seems safe and above board.”

“Haz!” George appeared, grabbing Harry in a hug and wiping his gloved hand down Hermione’s face, like only an older brother could do.

“George, I’m wearing makeup, you dick!” she complained, like only a younger sister could. Then she copped sight of Alice. “Oh Alice, how do you even look good in quidditch leathers?”

“Doesn’t she?” George said admiringly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“It’s genetics, but thanks,” Said Alice with a smile.

“It’s true her Mum is a proper Mil-”

Alice slapped her hand over George’s mouth, “Do not finish that sentence, George Weasley.”

Hermione laughed knowing how gorgeous Alice’s Mum was. When George had detangled himself from Alice, he said, “I have those things you wanted, they’re in the kitchen.”

“Oh great, I’ll grab them later. Thanks George.”

At that moment Pansy Parkinson arrived with a guy following her, smiling and greeting everyone. Pansy was still the same, chic bob, gleaming quidditch- fitted leathers, stupidly attractive and tall, but the man was different, Hermione realised suddenly, he was a muggle. And even more amazingly, from the rings on their fingers, and the fact they were holding hands, they were married.

“Alex!” Draco greeted him, pushing Pansy out of the way. They hugged in that back slapping way that looked painful.

Alex was tall, rugged and incredibly handsome. But he was definitely non-magical.

“Hermione, close your mouth,” Alice said quietly.

“Draco, you poncy fucker, how are you?” Alex said, amidst the back slapping.

Pansy wandered over to Hermione and Alice. “Wonderful, some more vagina’s. I honestly used to feel like I should just grow a dick in the early days.” She grabbed a mulled wine off Bernadette, Theo’s house elf, with a gracious nod and said, “I’m Pansy,” to Alice.

“I’m Alice, I was a few years behind you in school.”

“Oh really, what house?”

“Ravenclaw,”

Pansy smiled, like only a socialite could. “A fine house. How are you, Granger?”

“Umm good, thanks Pansy. You?”

Pansy ignored her question and looked her up and down. “Heard you’re mashing genitals with the reprobate…” she sipped her wine with a smirk.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. “Merlin, Pansy, that sound disgusting,”

“Those were my thoughts entirely. You’re way out of his league. What on earth are you playing at?” Mischievous glint in her eyes as Draco walked up behind her.

“Stop it Parks, you effervescent slut,” He ruffled her hair and whilst she turned in outrage he gave her a hug.

“Draco, watch the hair! Alex, tell him to stop accosting me!”

Alex appeared and ignored them both. “Hi I’m Alex,” he leaned in to kiss their cheeks.

“I’m Alice and this is Hermione,” Alice exclaimed a little breathlessly. He was extremely handsome.

“As in Hermione, ‘The Golden Girl’?” He asked, smiling at Hermione in wonder.

Wow, he's attractive.

“Alex, don't dazzle her! Fucksake, Parks get him out of here, I’ve literally just bagged her.”

Alex shrugged as Pansy dragged him away.

Draco put his hands around her face, “Don’t look at him, he’s too powerful…” he then leaned in and kissed the life out of her. Hermione felt warm all over.

Malfoy pulled back looking all boyish and attractive.

“I resisted,” she exclaimed with a smile.

“Phew, close call.” he put an arm around her, and then shouted, “Who’s for Quidditch?”

***

Draco watched as Hermione chatted to George about five metres above him. She was by no means a natural on her broom but someone had taught her how to ride a broom deftly and how to play a decent-ish game of quidditch.

She wasn’t necessarily enjoying herself but she liked being around everyone. He could tell, however, that she was cold so he sent a surreptitious warming charm her way.

He felt her eyes on him when he was darting around chasing Harry as the opposing teams seeker. Felt like old times, but less aggressive.

Draco could not help but look up at her arse for a few seconds before scouting around for the snitch.

“I don’t think it’s up there Draco,” Said Alex, as he whooshed past on the back of Pansy’s broom.

He gave them both the finger.

He loved that Alex was included in their game. Alex would be up on a broom all the time if he could. Draco didn’t know if he could do it, have that kind of trust in his wife, but Alex trusted Pansy completely. He twirled the beaters bat, laughing at Draco.

He watched Blaise as he caught the quaffle and headed for the middle ring, Hermione and George were suddenly on his tail and with his heart in his throat he stayed beneath her, just in case. He watched as Hermione launched a particularly nasty bludger headed Blaise’s way, grabbing the broom with those gorgeous thighs. Fuck.

It missed Blaise by an inch and he turned to look at her, as she narrowed her eyes.

He had another look around for the snitch and then was amazed as the girl herself flew down to him. “What are you doing, Malfoy?” She asked, circling him in the air in a way that he didn’t find sexy, in the least. “You’re barely playing. Seekers usually play up there…” she pointed upwards.

He grabbed her broom and brought her over to him. Both side by side, facing each other.

“Everything I want to look at is right here,” he said and leant over to steal a kiss.

“Ah ah!” she danced away, wobbling a little on her broom. “No fraternising with the opposing team members! It’s right there in the rule book.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Granger, come here.” He pointed to his lap.

She grinned and flew away. He couldn’t help but chase her.

“Malfoy, that's not the snitch,” Theo huffed, as Draco raced after Hermione.

“It’s the only snitch he’s interested in,” Pansy said loudly, as he passed by. Alex sniggered as he held on behind her.

Hermione tried to dodge him as he flew after her, she was on a borrowed broom and totally outclassed by his own top-of-the-range model.

“Draco, stop it!” She screamed as she tried to evade him. He could feel the excitement bouncing off her as she giggled and flew around the hoops. He pulled off a particularly flashy move and appeared in front of her.

“Gotcha,” he said as he cast a silent imobulus to ensure she didn’t fall to her death when he grabbed her broom.

He undid the spell and pulled her towards him, taking her face in his hands. Brushing his thumbs over her cheekbones as her eyes danced in excitement.

“You’re too gorgeous, Hermione,” he said, softly brushing her lips with his.

She gazed into his eyes, and tangled her fingers in the hair at the back of his head.

“You’re a terrible flirt,” she replied in an amused tone. Then she kissed him lightly.

“Only with you,”

She raised her eyebrow in an amazing imitation of him. “Terrible liar too,”

He grinned.

Harry appeared suddenly. “Just in case you were wondering, I caught the snitch.” he waved it at them both.

“Fucking Gryffindors,” Draco said and then snuggled Hermione into his chest. “No one gives a shit, Potter,”

Harry laughed and flew off.

“You do,” Hermione said with a giggle.

“Yeah, that fucker always beats me.”

***

The afternoon was a hazy affair. Everyone separated to shower and get cleaned up before heading into the dining room. Draco sat on the floor, leaning up against Hermione’s legs as they chatted to Alex and Pansy.

Pansy had definitely softened over the years. He had been slightly freaked out when she had introduced him to Alex. The guy was a former model turned photographer and Parks had met him when she had diversified in her wizard dressmaking and started making some muggle outfits.

Parks had only meant it to be just one night but she’d fallen in love. Alex was good for her, he had no interest in changing her, liked her fiery and fierce but her softness had happened anyway. She was happy, in love and free from the socialite bullshit that had run her life for so long. It suited her.

She had told him discreetly that they were trying for a baby. She was so excited.

The food eaten, puddings devoured and social meandering ticked off, Draco was keen to get going, but Hermione had something she wanted to do before she left.

“I’ll just be a minute,” she said.

Five minutes later, she returned with two colourful boxes.

“Where’s your Mum?” she asked and then she spotted her, and asked him to follow her.

“Narcissa, can I borrow you?” Hermione asked, looking a little excited but unsure.

“Yes of course, Darling,” Again, she was off.

After raising her eyebrows questionably to Draco, who shrugged, Narcissa followed them both into the corridor.

“Here,” she said with a nervous laugh. She pushed a box into their hands.

“Oh how lovely, a gift! Can we open them?” Narcissa asked.

Draco briefly stopped opening his and looked at the smaller witches.

“Yes of course,” Hermione smiled, rolling her eyes at herself. “Sorry, please do, they’re just a little something.”

He continued opening the box and took out a watch in Slytherin house colours. It wasn’t like the wizard watch he’d been given at seventeen, expensive and heavy. It was leather and dark with a mechanical face.

He absolutely loved it.

He glanced at Hermione who was watching Narcissa’s face as she opened her box. His mothers watch was more delicate, with links of chain for the straps and a prettier design. Narcissa looked up with a surprised smile.

“Thank you dear, this is..”

“Sorry,” Hermione said, “I know you both have more expensive tastes, but they’re magical watches. For communication…. I do a bit of work with George at the shop, we play around with new ideas and we came up with these for Hogwarts students, but Shacklebolt has commissioned some for the Aurors with a more decent range and I asked George to do a couple for you both. I know you like to stay in contact…”

Draco felt his heart start to squeeze in his chest.

“Look,” continued Hermione, “You tap the watch with your wand and it recognizes you as the owner and then you can choose from several phrases to send it to each other. I thought these ones might be the best list of messages but you can change them to suit what you’d like to say.”

Narcissa gamely tapped her wand on the watch face and it frosted over and then some scripture appeared. Hello Narcissa.

“Oh Goodness! How exciting!” Narcissa grinned at Hermione. “This is such a wonderful gift, I’ve never had anything like it.” She grasped the younger witch's hand. “Oh do show me how to send a message.”

Draco tapped his own watch, Hello Draco, it stated, in dark green writing.

It was like a phone for wizards. Fuck, she was clever.

He watched as Hermione showed his mother how to send a message, the two bending their heads over the watch, close as could be.

Another heart squeeze. Was this real? Was this generous, intelligent witch really interested in him? After all he had done? He took a deep breath, shaking the dark thoughts before they came. She was here and that was all he could ask for now.

A message appeared, he tapped the watch. From Narcissa; Come over, bring wine!

He looked up at them both as they shared mischievous grins and sparkling eyes.

Draco smirked at them both. Idiots.

Searching his own watch for phrases, he finally found an appropriate answer and sent a message back.

He watched as Narcissa read the message, “Draco!”

“Oh gosh, I thought I’d got rid of all the swearing on these ones. Sorry!” Hermione frowned at him.

He laughed out loud at their identical appalled faces.

Draco took Hermione’s hand and apologised. He kissed her fingers. “Thank you for this wonderful gift. I love it.”

“Yes Hermione, thank you, what a lovely surprise. Now you have to let me treat you for dinner.” His mother, leant across and kissed Hermione’s cheeks. “Wait till I show Theo, he’ll be so jealous!”

His mum walked away, clutching her new watch.

He watched her fondly, and then turned back to Hermione. “You look tired,”

“Do I? Oh…”

“Yes I need to get you straight to bed,” Draco bent in half and put his shoulder in her waist, lifting her over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.

“Hey!” she shouted, and smacked his arse a few times. “You are such a neanderthal!”

“Shut it, you love it.” He strode to the nearest fireplace and floo’d them back to his apartment. That was enough socialising for one day. Granger needed to get naked. And he needed to thank her properly for the gift.

Chapter Text

Draco lay in his bed, naked, satisfied and with a ridiculous smile on his face.

Granger had kissed him so many times before leaving. Giggling at his attempts to keep her in his arms and backing off with a mischievous grin as she danced away. It frustrated him that she wanted a few hours to herself but only because he would miss her so much.

Now he had her, he didn't want to be apart. Which he knew was selfish and unfair - Granger liked alone time, and she was being very generous with her time so far, he needed to learn patience.

It was tough going. She was irresistible.

He sighed and stroked his fingers over his chest. Reminding himself of her soft touches whispering over his body. The warmth of her as she'd draped herself over him. Her cushiony breasts, plump and delectable on top of his chest.

Those noises she made when she was utterly lost beneath him, her eyes filled with lust, her tongue twinned with his, her arse, her legs, her… Merlin, calm down.

He already had his hand on his dick and they literally stopped having sex a half-hour ago.

Draco blinked and stretched out his body. His possessive nature had been hidden for so long he'd almost forgotten about it. But Granger, the absolute slut, had resurrected it spectacularly. He wanted her so badly, it was difficult to not follow her out of the bed and see what she was up to.

He could totally do it too, undetected. It was part of his job.

But he hadn't, and that counted for something. He understood Hermione and underneath it all, he knew that if he went Full Malfoy he might lose her. Time would tell, he just needed patience.

He rolled his eyes. He wasn't great with patience. But it would be worth it, he remonstrated with himself.

Would it be acceptable to tell her that he wanted to live in her skin? Probably a bit much. It reeked of psychopathic tendencies, really. That was the Black in him.

He took a deep breath. It was just that her skin was so lovely and he could just bite the arse off her.

Mmmm, Grangers arse.

Hermione Granger was evocatively, unbearably and fiercely enticing. And he hated the fact he would have to wait until two o'clock that afternoon to see her. Damn it, what the fuck was he going to do. He couldn't wank all day. Could he?

He rubbed his face and let out an anguished wail. No more of this! It was all okay. His strange and overly possessive thoughts were his own. He could keep himself in check and be mature about this.

She liked him, he knew it. She liked being with him. They had fun together and she knew he was a bit of a prick and accepted it.

Granger had faults, she was bossy (yum), she was a little dark (not seeing a problem, here) and she was stubborn (samesies).

Hermione knew Draco was possessive, the girl had slept with him after he'd admitted he'd stalked her ex. It was all going to be okay.

He got up and had a shower, having the world's fastest wank (the material he had these days was electric) and then cleaning up afterwards.

He sorted some breakfast out and daydreamed about them making late-night food the night before. Both a little tipsy and both stupidly giggly as they cooked oven chips and fried eggs sandwiches.

Eating the greasy food with barely a stitch on. Hermione in one of his t-shirts sans knickers (ridiculously hot) and him in his boxer shorts - also, (she'd confirmed) ridiculously hot.

Hermione laughing outrageously at one of his stupid jokes and then making him snort (un)attractively at her quick wit. She was truly his favourite person. And sometimes the heartache of how much time they'd missed out on made him rub his chest in anguish.

No matter, it was happening now and they had their whole lives to make up properly.

How soon was too soon, to tell her he never wanted her to leave his side again and would she ever possibly consider a personal tracking device, linked only to him?

Wednesday week, perhaps?

He looked at the clock, glumly. It was only half eleven. Two and a half hours to go.

He sighed petulantly.

Something was buzzing on the kitchen counter.

Bzz bzz bzz.

Oh fun! It was the Slytherin watch from Granger.

He wandered over and tapped it.

From Narcissa; Come over, bring wine!

How strange, a little early perhaps, mother?

Then it buzzed again.

From Narcissa; Come over, bring wine!

And then again.

And again.

And again.

Draco's heart leapt into his throat. Something was wrong. He ran to the fireplace with his wand held out and floo'd to his mother's apartment.

***

Something was wrong.

Malfoy was late. Really late. He should have been at her flat an hour ago.

Hermione’s thoughts were currently ranging from general fear, (Draco was a target after all,) to sheer vulnerability. Was this the beginning of him ghosting her? Was it all over? Maybe he’d met someone else? Maybe he was just bored of her.

What if all of it had been an elaborate ploy to get her into bed, and really this declaration of adoration was nothing at all. What if he charmed his way into every woman's bed this way?

Maybe he was just really good at saying what you wanted to hear. He was incredibly good at espionage. He was able to blend into the muggle world and maybe this all meant that he was finally showing his true colours.

The insecure part of her could have eaten all of this up. This stuff happened. It was Malfoy for fucksake. He was known to be selfish and had literally been a Death Eater at one point in his life.

But something was off. And that small thread of uncertainty made her decision to do something about it.

She floo’d to his London flat. He wasn’t there.

She floo’d to the Cornwall house. He wasn't there either.

She reasoned that if he hadn’t wanted her anymore, he would have shut her out completely. She wouldn’t have been able to floo into either of these homes.

From Cornwall she floo’d to Harry’s.

It was Sunday - Harry was working, files spread out on the kitchen table.

“Hey!” her oldest friend said, generally pleased to see her. Then he saw her face. “What’s up?”

“Draco is missing.” She said, then she chewed her lip. Her stomach flip flopping. “I think.”

“Okay, take me through it.” Harry’s Auror training kicking in - no inane questions. No panic. Just calm consideration.

Hermione remembered how he liked his information, so she laid it all out. “I left his flat this morning at nine-thirty - I wanted to get a head start on things for Monday, and we said we’d meet up at two pm for a later lunch. He was coming to my flat. He said he might pop to his Mum’s but he had no other plans. We left each other happy. He kissed me and told me he couldn’t wait until 2pm.”

Harry looked at the clock. It was 3.20pm.

Hermione swallowed and felt the irrational sense of emotion drift through her. It was so stupid. They’d only just started seeing each other. Why did she feel this much? Fuck, she should have stayed away from him.

Harry considered her. She could see him scoping over her body language. Her wringing hands and tight shoulders. Her voice had been calm but her body betrayed her.

“He’s not ghosting you, H. He can’t stop waffling on about you.”

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “He’s just late, right?”

“No, he’s never late unless it’s totally on purpose to piss someone off.” Harry said, rubbing his face. “Where have you checked?”

“His London flat and the Cornwall house.” Hermione's heart was starting to beat a little faster. When Harry worried, it meant something.

“Kreacher!” Harry suddenly called. The house-elf apparated into the kitchen with a sharp crack. “Hi mate, can you go to Narcissa’s for me, please? Check if she's seen Draco?”

“Of course, Master.” Kreacher apparated out.

“How did you find him last time?”

“Shacklebolt has put a tracker on all the DMLE staff wands - I located the password and apparated to him.” Hermione replied.

“Fucking hell, are you kidding?”

“I know! He doesn’t have to worry about data protection or anything, what an absolute breach of human rights…”

“Not about that, Hermione! Focus! I know about the trackers. Why on Earth would you apparate to a location when an Auror is on a mission? Are you insane? He could have been in a fire-fight…!”

“He was, it was fine - all my old instincts kicked in.”

Harry closed his eyes and counted to ten with tight fists.

Hermione waited. It may have been a little fool-hardy to apparate into a mission. She could agree that was probably a bad thing to do but it was an emergency! Just like now, in fact…

“Harry, I think we should…”

Harry opened his eyes and gave her a warning look. “Do not say it,”

“But…”

“No, we do this strategically.”

“Harry, he could be in danger!”

Harry took a deep breath. “I know, H. But to be fair to him, he has been an Auror for the last decade. I think we should have a little faith that he's not done anything stupid.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

“Well anything that’s not too stupid.” Harry amended.

A sharp crack heralded Kreacher’s arrival. The small elderly house-elf looked troubled.

“Mistress Narcissa’s home was disrupted, Master, things were knocked over. A few nasty hexes were still apparent in the air. She is not there but she and Master Draco were on the premises no longer than two hours ago.”

Hermione looked at Harry. “We go now!” She said firmly and held up her wand.

“Hermione! No! If we walk into a firefight they’ll be expecting it, you know it as well as I do. We need to plan this. Give me ten minutes…. Please?”

Hermione lowered her wand.

Harry smiled at the little house-elf. “Excellent work, Kreacher, have a rest Buddy.”

“Yes Master,” The elf wandered off towards the kitchen door.

Harry sent out three patronus and turned to Hermione. "I've got something that I want you to see but just let me get this sorted first."

Hermione frowned. She didn't want to be standing here doing nothing. Too much time had already been wasted. What the fuck was Harry doing?

A crack sounded and two Aurors appeared in the kitchen. Both large and dominating they nodded at Hermione but turned to their boss.

"Thanks for coming so quickly. I want you to head to Narcissa Malfoy's apartment. Here's the address," he handed one of the women a card he snapped out of the air, and the other darker haired woman looked at it. "Investigate, touch nothing and come back here. Wait until I'm back in the kitchen. You have seven minutes."

"Yes, Auror Potter," they repeated in unison.

Hermione watched as they headed to the floo. They disappeared in the green fire.

Harry beckoned her out of the kitchen. He led her to his office and shut the door behind her. He then did a bit of fancy wandless magic - an innocuous wall that had been filled with paintings and shelves full of nick- naks turned into a huge pinboard with various bits of information on it.

At the top of the wall were four letters.

W.T.F.H

Hermione frowned and ventured a guess. “Wizards that Fear Harry?”

It was Harry’s turn to frown.

She winced and tried again. “Wizengamot That Foster Hatred?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“I’m slightly preoccupied at the moment. The man that I lo- lust after has been kidnapped and is possibly dying or already dead. Just tell me!”

“It’s my ‘What The Fuck Happened’ board.” Harry said with a rueful smile.

“Oh, I see.” Hermione moved towards the pinboard, her eyes flicking all over it. They were old cases, either dropped or complete. “It’s the cases that have gone a bit awry and you keep tabs on them because you think they may pop back on your radar at some point.”

“There she is,” Harry said, approaching the board, standing beside her. “A lot of these old cases are in limbo and have been for ages but occasionally some are activated again and I’ve been keeping an eye on things so I don’t get any nasty surprises.”

“That’s smart, Harry.” Hermione said in a serious tone.

“Strange really, seeing as I’m the Head Auror these days.” Sarcasm dripped out of his mouth.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, I’ve been thinking about what you said. About this new impersonator of Tom Riddle. This wannabe. What is their MO? What's driving this person and why would they be targeting an old Death Eater that no one talked about anymore.”

Harry pointed to the Daily Prophet article of a Death Eater in the docks, awaiting trial.

“Corban Yaxley?” Hermione questioned, recognising the old head of the DMLE when Tom had been in power…

Harry took a deep breath. “When Draco was released from prison he was really concerned that Yaxley hadn’t been caught. It seemed this piece of shit was a little obsessed with Narcissa. With Lucius' constant mistakes and Draco’s blunders, Riddle kept promising Narcissa to Yaxley. Fortunately, we caught her first and he couldn’t touch her in Azkaban, once she was at home the wards protected her and then later on, she had Andromeda and me.”

Harry turned back to the clipping and then drew his finger along to another prophet clipping. It showed Yaxleys release. “Within the first month of Draco being promoted to his position as The Ghost, he’d tracked down Yaxley and he was sentenced to life in Azkaban. Two years later, Yaxley got let out on ‘good behaviour’...”

“How..?”

“It was signed by Kingsley himself and Yaxley was able to go home to his pile of ancestral rubble, rebuild and stay there under house arrest for a further two years.”

“But you watched him?”

Harry nodded. “It’s been quiet for years, nothing at all. We’ve all but forgotten about him. He’s been nowhere near Narcissa. He got married to another pureblood, she was barely twenty.”

Harry tapped another picture of a haughty young witch.

“Merlin she’s young, Eww, Yaxley has to be thirty years older than her.”

Harry nodded, “He has a kid.”

“So all’s quiet with Yaxley but…”

“It was bugging the hell out of me. This early release for good behaviour. I, of course, checked with Kingsley but was told to let it go. Yaxley was no longer a person of interest.”

“That absolutely stinks!”

“I know, so here’s what I found out. Kingsley's daughter Naomi was involved in some dubious shit at Hogwarts, just around the time Yaxley was let out. McGonagall was clear with her warning, she told me to steer clear. And she told me to ‘stay off the grounds and to keep away’. Those were her exact words.”

Hermione replayed what Harry said. “Hagrid?”

Harry smiled. “You know, sometimes it’s shit we don’t work together anymore.” he shook his head. “Anyway, I popped to see him for a cuppa, it was only polite as I was already there.”

“Naturally,” Hermione exclaimed looking at the board. Harry’s finger followed a trail to a family picture of Kingsley Shacklebolt with his wife and young daughter.

“So Hagrid was feeling incredibly conversational and he chatted about a recent incident with a Hufflepuff student, who I might know, as she was my boss’s daughter. Seemed she had been bullying some muggleborn little-uns. Taking them down to a dungeon and letting off nasty hexes.”

“Fuck,”

“It gets worse. One of the kids has never recovered. They’re in St Mungo’s.”

“FUCK!” Hermione put her hands to her mouth. What was wrong with Naomi? Stick to the point. “So Yaxley had leverage? Somehow he found out about Kingsley's psycho daughter and got himself a get out of jail free card?”

“Exactly,” Harry sighed.

“Harry, how has Kingsley kept this quiet?”

“He’s pulled every favour H, Naomi is now ‘resting’ at home. He’s paying people to sit with her. My people are telling me she’s wandless these days.”

“It’s not good enough, surely she needs St Mungo’s involvement?”

“All of it was covered up.”

“What is McGonagall playing at?”

He shrugged, he then put his finger back on Yaxley’s picture.

“I know Shacklebolt has some people watching Yaxley, he just didn’t come to me with it.”

“Yes, because he knows you’d never agree to it.”

Harry shrugged. “What can I say,” he pointed at himself, “Moral as fuck.”

Hermione nodded. “Obviously.”

“Anyway, let's do that little wand tracking spell on this map, shall we?”

Harry accio'd a map of Yorkshire and laid it out neatly on his desk. She side eyed him. Obviously he was checking his theory.

Hermione cast the tracking spell and a bright light appeared on the map, right by Harry's finger. He grinned at her. “This is Yaxley’s Ancestral pile"

"You know it's really shit we don't work together anymore.” Hermione stated, ruefully.

"If only Draco was a quaffle we could give Ron a call and it would be like old times." Harry rolled up the map and walked out of the room determinedly.

Hermione followed him and stopped abruptly.

Seven mean looking Aurors stood in the kitchen. Harry greeted them and then started to plan an attack on Yaxley House. He sent one Auror to scout, whilst he laid out the mission to the rest of the team.

"Hermione, we are gonna need a big distraction. I'll leave that to you." He gestured to her wafting a hand.

"Umm Harry, I can't just think of a big distraction. It's been years since I've been in the field. I don't know what you need… I know nothing about Yaxley…"

Harry turned towards her, he looked calm and amiable. "Nothing, H? You know nothing about a leader who has been impersonating The Dark Lord, maybe even using Tom as a gimmick or a way to recruit. Maybe even using him as a stick to beat people with… maybe even suggesting that he may not actually be dead?"

Hermione chewed her lip.

"Well I may have one idea… it's very stupid though. How long do you need?"

Harry smiled. "Seven minutes."

Hermione nodded firmly. "I can manage that."

Chapter Text

Draco took the Crucio like a champ.

Well he did in his mind anyway. In real life, he was pretty sure he was screaming in anguish - drowning in agony, in an exercise of devastation.

Just one thought remained. Stay conscious.

He’d forgotten the pain of the Death Eaters' favourite Unforgivable, or maybe misremembered.

Nevertheless, in the moment. It hurt. It hurt so much you thought you'd never be pain-free again.

Being back, in the presence of these psychopaths, was undoing all of Carol the Counsellor's good work.

Fucking Death Eaters, they had no respect for the therapeutic journey.

However, keeping Yaxley concentrated on him, rather than on his Mother - who was magically bound to the adjacent chair, was his main concern.

Yaxley had impressively outmanoeuvred him. Bastard.

Not only with the seamless kidnapping of Narcissa Malfoy but also the well planned ambush he’d walked into. He had been captured instantly - Narcissa held at wand-point to ensure compliance.

Harry and Draco had poured over the W.T.F.H board for several years, gleaning every bit of information to ensure they knew what the next move might be. Yaxley had been observed from a distance, Kingsley had specifically asked them to stay away. But he'd been watched anyway. It would be blatantly stupid to discount an ex-Death Eater who had wormed his way out of prison by blackmailing the head of DMLE.

Unfortunately, they had missed some rather important details. Although Yaxley had stayed quietly at home with his family - he had somehow been able to amass a group of new Death Eaters into the fold.

The new recruits were currently all staring at himself and his mother like they wanted to tear them limb from limb.

The pair seemed to be in Yaxley’s drawing room. A crowd of fifteen baby Death Eaters, fully kitted out with black robes and masks, stood in formatted lines on the ornamental rug.

Narcissa, bless her, was sitting rigidly in her designer Parkinson outfit, with her nose in the air. Like she was ‘putting up with Yaxley’ rather than stuck there against her will. Fortunately, Yaxley hadn’t touched her yet, but still the old Death Eater looked like he wanted to, and that’s what was worrying Draco.

Corbin Yaxley was kind enough to give Draco a breather, a few minutes respite before he tortured the Blood Traitor once more. He felt blood trickle into his mouth from his nose. Splendid.

“You alright there, young Malfoy? You look a bit peaky.” Yaxley drawled. A mumble of chuckles and laughter filled the room.

Draco spat blood onto the carpet and grinned at Yaxley, knowing full well he had red teeth.

“My, my, Yaxley. I must say. You haven’t lost your touch. Your Crucio is still quite powerful for such an old man…”

“How dare you!” screeched a voice from his side, removing her mask. The younger wife, Meredith Yaxley was dark haired and wild-eyed. She was modelling herself on a certain crazy aunt of Draco’s.

Bellatrix 2.0 continued her tirade. “You aren’t fit to lick his boots, you filthy blood-traitor.”

Narcissa gave her a contemptuous look.

“Quiet,” growled Yaxley, not even bothering to look at his wife. “Young Malfoy here will learn his manners…”

“Oh no, I don’t think I will,” Draco replied pleasantly.

“No? Think your precious Golden Boyfriend will come and rescue you?”

“Corbin!” Draco whispered in mock terror, “Theo will go fucking spare if you spread that around…”

“Theo? What? You fucking… CRUCIO!”

Draco grunted back the agonised wail that filled his mouth -he felt his life flash before him. The squeeze of pain held in him a vice of fire and death.

Finally, he was released.

He hung his head and jerked around as the pain left his body. Breathe, just breathe.

Mutters of laughter filled the room as Draco tried to get control of his floundering limbs.

“No one is coming, Draco. You’ll answer my questions and then you’ll die!”

Draco raised his head, it took some effort but he shook off the pain. “I’ve got a new girlfriend,” he exclaimed, chattily.

Yaxley frowned and looked at the group of people in the room. “Did someone already give him the veritaserum?”

“She’s pretty incredible. Absolutely marvellous in the sack…” Just keep them talking, keep them on you.

“Wonderful, we’ll all ensure we have a go with her.” Yaxley exclaimed with a laugh.

“Oh no, she’d never go for you, Yaxley. Your breath stinks like dog farts.” Draco replied amicably.

Narcissa snorted beside him. Mother!

“YOU DARE TO…”

“I’m just saying that she’s a wee bit possessive. She won’t like me being here without her expressed knowledge.” Draco interrupted the outraged shouting, happily. “Especially as you’ve tied me up - she’s a little kinky. Wears these amazing cardigans. Real sexy wool, you know the ones I mean?” Draco motioned over to Meredith who frowned down at her cloak.

“Take your eyes off my wife!” Yaxley shouted.

“Yes, that’s exactly what she’s like. She’ll come in and say,” and Draco carried on in a high falsetto. “Get those magical ropes off my boyfriend,” And you know, you’ll be in so much trouble.”

Yaxley just stared at him open mouthed. The frown of confusion softening his craggy demented features.

At that precise moment - all of the windows shattered and a wind whipped up inside the room. The curtains that hung heavy and long against the floor-length window billowed out dramatically. People shrieked in fear, knowing this wasn’t Yaxley and it couldn’t be the DMLE, they wouldn’t make an entrance like this.

What the fuck is happening?

A dark swirling cloud of mist appeared through the now gaping hole where the floor length windows had been. It settled onto the carpet in between himself and Yaxley.

The tornado of dark smoke solidified into the terrifying form of Lord Voldemort.

Well, fuck.

He felt his mother’s horror rise as she sat beside him. “No,” she breathed out, “No, not again.”

The Dark Lord had not changed a bit in the years since his death. Still pale as a ghost, dressed in a shroud of dark grey robes and reeking of death and decay.

Narcissa was visibly shaking.

Voldemort had his back to Narcissa and Draco - he used his wand to clear up the shards from the windows and enchant them into the shape of a large sword hovering menacingly over Yaxley’s balding head.

The Death Eaters fell to their knees, and Yaxley stood there, astonished, with deep fear etched across his face.

Lord Voldemort took that moment to surreptitiously pluck his knickers out of his bum. Both Narcissa and Draco caught the moment and his Mother glanced at him in confusion.

Draco tilted his head. A smile hovered at his lips. Was that…?

“Corbin,” Voldemort purred. “How wonderful to see you again.”

“M-my Lord, I had no idea…”

“Kneel,” Voldemort sneered. The slivers and shards of broken glass got closer as Yaxley bent his knee.

"Bow your heads," Voldemort called to the room. Immediately the room looked to the floor.

The Dark Lord took that moment to look back at Draco and mouth - Are you okay? The most evil wizard in history followed this with a kissy-face and wink.

Draco didn't ever think he'd be able to scrub that particular image from his mind but he appreciated the sentiment.

He performed a slight nod, in answer to the question. Was he alright? Right now he was freaked out but incredibly glad his crazy girlfriend was here.

Voldemort waved his wand and Draco felt pain relief and the warm hum of Hermione's magic.

Narcissa had her face bowed and was still trembling.

Draco spoke quietly in French to his mother, quelling her fears.“N'aie pas peur, Mère. Voyez avec vos yeux. Regardez ce qui est vraiment là.” (Fear not, Mother. See with your eyes. Look at what is really there.)

Narcissa looked up. Voldemort gave her a quick nervous smile and curled some non-existent stray hairs around his ears.

His mother's jaw dropped.

Several magical blurs appeared around the room signalling to Draco that Harry and the reinforcements had arrived.

He felt his ropes slacken as the Aurors arranged themselves around the room. A heavy ward that Draco recognised sealed the room.

Lord Voldemort walked around the kneeling figure of Yaxley. “Tell me, what have you been up to in my absence? It seems to me you have been very busy. I’m so pleased you have been arranging a new group of supporters in my name.”

Harry whispered a quick hello into Draco's ear, simultaneously putting a wand in the hand that was currently tied loosely behind his back. Draco started to prepare his body for the fight.

"M-my Lord, I…"

Voldemort grabbed Yaxley's chin. "Manners, Corbin," he crooned to the old Death Eater. "I’m sure you wouldn’t speak unless I have specifically allowed it?" He then vanished the shards of glass and dropped Yaxleys face.

The Dark Lord walked towards Draco. Giving the Malfoy's a wonky look of 'how am I doing?'

Draco suppressed a smile. Fucking crazy woman. Merlin, he loved her.

"Ah, here we have a gift. How wonderful. I do, so love the Malfoy’s… especially this handsome specimen."

Draco raised an eyebrow at Voldemort's cheeky grin. "You always were an old perve."

The room gasped.

Voldemort laughed. "What can I say? He gets me."

And then before everyone's eyes, Voldemort began to shrink and sprout an abundance of brown curls. "Shit Harry, it's fading…" The Dark Lord squeaked. The grey robe morphed into a cardigan and jeans and Hermione’s pretty face appeared.

Harry revealed himself and Draco immediately put Narcissa and Hermione into a protective shield and the Aurors began to round up the recruits.

A quick wand fight took hold. The baby Death Eater’s were no match for Harry’s Auror’s. The shouts of spells swarmed the room.

“INCARCEROUS!”

“EXPELLIARMUS!”

“PROTEGO!”

“STUPIFY!”

The efficient DMLE, at Harry's command, ensured a speedy take down. Hermione's ruse had enabled Harry to get his team exactly where he wanted them.

Meanwhile, Draco had won Yaxley’s wand and the old man found himself held by his throat. “You’re done, Yaxley. No more deals. It’ll be life in Azkaban. But don’t worry, we’ll put Bellatrix LeShite in the next cell so you get to hear her dulcet screeches all day.”

“Blood traitor piece of shit, you haven’t won! I’ll be back, I’ll get out and I’ll keep coming for you Malfoy’s.” Yaxley shouted in Draco’s face.

Draco sneered but followed it neatly with a sharp headbutt, knocking the old Death Eater out.

“Darling, really.” Narcissa admonished her son.

The Death Eater recruits had been rounded up and were sitting in neat rows with magical bindings ensuring they couldn’t escape.

“To be fair, someone needed to shut him up.” Harry exclaimed, helping Narcissa out of the binding and ensuring she wasn’t hurt.

“Thank you for coming, Harry darling.”

Harry kissed her cheek. “Always, Narcissa.” he replied, giving her a hug. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, just a little unnerved. But physically fine." She smiled up at him.

“And me, do I get a thank you?” Draco asked his mother.

“No darling, you got kidnapped as well. This is the part where you also issue Harry with a Thank you."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You are always the fucking favourite," he growled at Potter. He hugged him roughly instead of voicing the thanks. Harry already knew.

“Where’s Lord Hermivort? I swear to Godric, Harry…”

‘I know what you’re going to say… Do you honestly think I could keep her away? Seriously?” Harry asked earnestly.

Draco eyed him but realised that she would never be kept away from situations like this. He’d hated her being in danger but understood that no-one could keep her away. And he liked her bravery. Didn’t mean she wouldn’t be thoroughly punished though, little Minx.

“Who’s idea was Voldemort?” Draco asked.

Harry gave Draco a suspiciously blank face and weakly said, “Hers?”

He found Hermione talking to a furious Meredith Yaxley.

"And where is your child, currently?" Asked Granger.

"I'm not telling the likes of you! Filthy M-"

Draco cast a silencio and frowned. "That's quite enough of that irritating harpy," Meredith’s shrieks continued but thankfully no one could hear them. Another Auror led her away.

"Draco!" She breathed a sigh of relief and turned into his arms, holding him tightly. "Are you alright? Is your mother well?"

"We're fine." Draco brushed a kiss on her hair, pulling her closer. Mmmm! The smell of her. "Well I think I'll need a bit more therapy after watching Voldemort make kissy faces at me and pulling his knickers out his arse."

"I had a wedgie!" She laughed and then narrowed her eyes.

“How many?" She asked, suddenly peering into his face. She cast a quick tergeo, cleaning his face and stared into his eyes.

"Umm…"

"How many Crucio's?" Her tone grew more serious.

"Four,"

Hermione took him by the arm. "Right! Lift the ward. We're off to St Mungo's... You too Narcissa. " She declared to the DMLE.

Narcissa and Draco tried to insist they were fine but it was no use. Granger had spoken. Harry nodded and the ward was released. Hermione grabbed Draco and his mother and side-apparated them to the hospital.

***

Draco and Narcissa spent the night in St Mungo’s, being thoroughly checked over by the healing staff. Hermione stayed near them, ensuring they took the potions and tonics the Healers handed over. Narcissa made some comment on it being such a fuss but Hermione was taking no chances - she wanted them both healthy before they left the hospital.

When they arrived at the Cornwall House, she made them swallow a dreamless sleep and go to bed. Narcissa looked exhausted and Draco, although healed outwardly, was still flinching, his body occasionally spasming - one of the hangover’s of the Crucio curse. The Healers promised that this would go eventually but he would need some physical therapy.

Whilst they slept, Hermione sat around doing bits of work. She finally caught up with Harry who floo’d to the house after processing and detaining the captives.

Harry had taken everything to Kingsley but he ensured that Alexis Murtaugh, the senior advisor to the Minister, was in the meeting. Shacklebolt was currently being questioned by Ministry staff.

Hermione made him a cup of tea and they sat at the breakfast bar together in Draco’s kitchen. “You did the right thing. You aren’t responsible for Kingsley. He made his decision and you made yours.”

Harry sighed and rubbed his face. “It always comes down to love, right? Kingsley’s love for his kid, Draco’s love for Narcissa…”

“Harry, love is still a good thing but people's choices become less because of it. You haven’t been put in that position for a long time. Who knows how you’d react for your child - I’d like to think that all of us would ask for help rather than let a dangerous man go free. But honestly, if she was mine, I’m not sure what I’d do.”

“True, if it was Theo… or my kid. I think I might be facing what Kingsley is now.”

“Do you think it’ll be a prison sentence or will it be quietly swept under the rug?” She asked him.

“Could go either way - if Narcissa decides to prosecute, it’ll get messy for Kingsley. If she doesn't, it’s still fairly internal and apart from this indiscretion…” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Kingsley has been a great boss.”

She sighed. “I think I’m likely done with it all.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “I’ve loved my job but it’s meant that I’ve strayed from everything I actually like doing. I might get a job in a library or something. I just want some peace and quiet. I’m still young. I want to spend my free time going on holiday with friends and hanging out at pubs.”

Harry smiled at her. “Sounds nice.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” She grinned at him.

Draco walked into the kitchen with wet hair, in a dressing gown and (hopefully) boxer shorts. “Hello Harold, Hermivort,” he greeted them.

“I’m not loving that name,” Hermione frowned at him. He winked at her.

He walked around and snuggled her from behind, she leaned into his warmth. He smelt all fresh and delicious from the shower.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

“Better, still a bit shaky but so much better than I felt yesterday.”

Harry started to get up, he put a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay. Can you come in tomorrow and do your statement? Then take a break - at least a week.”

Draco nodded firmly. “Yes sir, catch you tomorrow.”

Harry thanked Hermione for the tea and kissed her goodbye.

As soon as they heard the distant whoosh of the floo, Draco picked Hermione up. “Where are we going?” She asked as he carried her towards the stairs.

“Bed,”

She began to struggle a bit. “No!” She hissed, “Your Mother is here!”

Draco held her firmly. “She’s gone, love. Left a few minutes ago. She wanted to get home and rest properly.”

“Oh, well, you’re still ill, let me down. You will do irreparable damage!”

“You will do irreparable damage!” Draco squawked as he climbed the stairs. “Merlin, Granger. That mouth of yours. I’ll have to think of a few ways to shut you up.”

She swallowed and bit her lip. That was an awful thing to say. So why was she so turned on? “That’s an awful thing to say - and I sound nothing like that.”

He smiled down at her mischievously. “I like all your sounds Hermione, all the perfect little noises you make - whilst I’m busy shutting you up.”

Tingles of desire flew across her skin. This man.

When they arrived into the bedroom he laid her gently on the bed and began to peel her clothes off. Dropping kisses on every bit of skin he came into contact with. “Arms up,” he commanded as he took her jumper off.

Draco released her hair from the high ponytail she had put it in, expertly unwinding the scrunchie and letting it fall to her shoulders. He kissed her mouth lazily, his fingers in her scalp rubbing gently.

He pulled away as he took her t-shirt off and gazed longingly at her breasts. “I always forget how quiet you are when we have sex,” he smiled at her.

Hermione grimaced. Dammit, why did he leave her speechless. “I can talk!” she muttered and then flushed a bright red.

Draco grinned. “It wasn’t a complaint, love.” He kissed her neck and slipped her bra off. Bending down he took a nipple in his mouth and sucked, she moaned and he groaned.

His warm hands roamed all over her eager body. Talk, for fucksake, talk!

“I… I really like this,” Oh Merlin, that was lame.

Draco sniggered whilst undoing her jeans. “I’m glad,” he grinned up at her. “It’s nice that you’re quiet. You know I like the sound of my own voice.”

She rolled her eyes but let out a breathy sigh as his fingers moved back up her legs. Her jeans were now on the floor along with the rest of her clothes.

“So beautiful, so gorgeous and all mine.” He said admiring her body and taking off his robe. (Completely starkers underneath).

“Yes,” she said breathily, leaning up on her elbows. Draco put his warm body over hers and pressed her firmly into the bed. They kissed madly, writhing against each other. He pulled back and crawled down her body, leaving a trail of kisses and licks over her breasts and her stomach.

He was so erotically gorgeous. She sighed happily. Every time they had sex he managed to make her go off like a rocket.

Draco was now nuzzling and licking her pussy, murmuring about how gorgeous she tasted and how much he loved it and how he wanted her to sit on his face. It continued in this vein until he worked out exactly what she liked. He held his forearm across her stomach and continued licking her, pushing a finger inside, until she was whining and writhing underneath him. She didn’t even realise she was holding his face into her cunt until the very end.

She came with such a rush, that she finally released his head with her death grip (both thighs and hands - how embarrassing).

He grinned at her as he crawled back up her body.

“I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed, wincing at her grip on him

He laughed. “It was fucking sexy. Merlin, I love you.”

Hermione stared at him in shock. “You do?”

A flash of red grazed his cheeks but he shrugged, owning his words. “Yes, I do.” He said and kissed her softly.

She smiled up at him. “I love you, too.”

Draco laid his forehead on hers. She’d noticed his eyes were a little glassy. He was hiding his emotion. She felt a little emotional herself. Hermione gave him a minute, she trailed her fingers up his back, making patterns.

“Just in the interest of science, how would you feel about being chained to my side for the rest of your life?” He asked her, pulling away so he could study her face. He had blinked the tears away. An earnest face stared back at her.

“In the interest of science?” Weird man. He nodded, a smile hovered at the side of his mouth. “I would consider it, I’d need to see the statistics and be informed of any anomalies and previous data.”

“Sweet Salazar, when you talk nerdy it gets me so hot.” Draco started to rub himself against her again.

She laughed.

“Enough of that, talk more about analysis…”

Hermione tried, she really tried but he started putting his fingers to use and honestly, she was only human.

She managed to moan a few times and grab onto him for dear life but it was all she had in her.

Looking into those grey eyes that held her captive, it was heaven. He was heavenly. And, he loved her.

He really loved her.

Maybe she’d take the week off with him.

It’d be nice to take a break - with the man she loved.

***

Chapter Text

"Oh Narcissa, this place is absolutely lovely." Hermione exclaimed as she sat down in the most comfortable dining chair she'd ever encountered. It was a velvet armchair in a pale lilac.

The upmarket restaurant Narcissa had chosen was a small bistro not too far from her apartment.

Each table was laid so perfectly and the candle lighting was incredibly picturesque, holding a warmth over the lushly decorated room.

"I can't claim credit," Narcissa accepted a menu from the waiter gracefully. "Pansy brought me last year. It is rather lovely, isn't it?"

They both ordered a drink and glanced at the menu.

Narcissa smiled and sighed, shutting the menu when she'd decided. "I'm so glad we've finally arranged this."

"Me too," Hermione said with a smile of her own. "I must admit, I wanted to apologise too. That night when I arrived in the guise of Voldemort - well, I know I frightened you and I hope you've been able to recover…"

"Oh pish, darling. I'm made of stronger stuff than that. It was a wonderful plan and executed to perfection." And then Narcissa snorted an unexpected laugh, "I must admit - when I told Andromeda, we had such a fit of giggles…"

Hermione grinned at the older woman. It was funny to see her stifling laughter behind an elegant hand. "Oh really?"

"It was just the idea of Voldemort relieving himself from a wedgie…!" Narcissa hooted and held her stomach in such a way that instantly reminded Hermione of Draco. A wave of affection rolled over her and she laughed back.

"I'm pleased there were some funny bits in that story. I was so worried for you both."

"Oh goodness, yes. It was a trifle frightening but I've done all you suggested. The Mind Healer I've seen was superb. We covered such good ground, and it's made me look back at quite a lot of old fears I've been holding onto."

The waiter returned and they placed their order.

“That’s brilliant Narcissa, truly.”

"Draco has mentioned you've handed your notice in to the DMLE," Narcissa exclaimed. "Are you alright about your decision?"

Hermione took a breath. "Yes, I think so. Work was turning into my personality… I was becoming the job. I really loved it at first, but I think I'm ready for something a bit simpler. I wasn't seeing anyone, no friends or loved ones - I was lost…"

"Was Draco a factor in your decision?" Narcissa was trying to hide her excitement but she was rubbish at it.

Hermione smiled. "He was."

"I'm glad. You know, you were the first young lady he ever mentioned," Narcissa grinned at Hermione. "The details of mine and Lucius' response are not important… but oh, he was so taken with you when he was such a small boy. It was delightfully appealing."

"He mentioned he did quite like me…" Hermione admitted, feeling her cheeks get warm.

"Yes, and what's so lovely is that you're both such a wonderful fit. I know it's so new but I wanted you to know, I'm thrilled."

"Thank you, Narcissa. That's so nice of you to say. I know how close you both are…"

"You're quite welcome, and darling, there is something else I wanted to mention to you."

"Okay, yes, of course?" Hermione had no idea what she was going to say so her smile was a little strained.

"I'm unsure if you've noticed but I perform a little maternal function for a few of Draco's friends. The Parkinson's chose their naive stupidity over their wonderful daughter and Theo was orphaned in the war. And of course, dear Harry…" Narcissa hesitated. Perusing the restaurant and worrying her lip.

Hermione felt herself go warm all over. Both Harry and Theo had mentioned how Narcissa never missed their birthdays, checked in on them regularly, had them over at Christmas times and clucked motherly if they ever had any problems.

Narcissa took a sip of drink and patted her hair.

Hermione held her breath, blinking rapidly.

"What I'm trying to say, very badly, is that I would very much like to be there for you - that is, if you would like me too. No matter what happens between Draco and yourself."

Hermione felt a sob escape. She collected it with her hand.

It had been so long.

She'd occasionally check in on her parents. She knew where they were but of course, they didn't know her. What she’d done all those years ago had been irreversible. And she'd been on her own.

Narcissa's warm hand clasped Hermione’s- they sat in silence for a moment.

Hermione finally collected herself. Squeezing Narcissa's fingers affectionately, she croaked, "I would very much like that."

Narcissa grinned and squeezed back. "How wonderful darling, I'll be with you every step of the way. You know it's a real treat for me, that you all accept me. I always wanted a big family and now here we are."

Hermione felt some tears roll down her cheeks, happy tears. She wiped them away, as their meals arrived.

"How dreadful of me to do this in public, I am so sorry darling. Are you alright?" Narcissa asked with concern.

"Yes," Hermione flapped her hand, nearly taking out her wine. She collected herself. "It's wonderful Narcissa, really. I'm afraid I'm an emotional nutcase - so you'll have to get used to it."

"I look forward to it, life was so cold and bleak back in those days. No emotion, good or bad. What a terrible way to live. I like this way far better."

Narcissa raised her glass. "To ‘crying in public’!"

Hermione laughed and toasted her glass. "And ‘pulling your knickers out your arse’."

Narcissa snorted and held her stomach. "Oh goodness, don't!"

The two women giggled for the rest of the evening. Enjoying their new relationship and later, falling into Draco's car, absolutely wasted.

“Christ!” Hermione heard Draco mutter as his mother looked for her shoe in the footwell of his Jaguar. Narcissa’s fabulous arse in the air, whilst Hermione giggled uncontrollably in the front seat.

“Just leave the shoe, Mum!”

“I need it darling, they come in a pair!”

Chapter Text

Draco was a heavy bastard, especially when he was hammered.

Harry tried taking a few steps but Malfoy was making it impossible. He had draped his much larger frame over Harry's shoulder and had no inclination to leave.

The pub was crowded too. Getting people to move would be hilarious.

This was much more fun when Harry was as equally as drunk.

But he had a meeting with Shacklebolt in the morning. He’d come out for a drink anyway, because Draco had needed him.

Today was the anniversary of Lucius' death.

After Draco’s release from Azkaban, he’d asked Harry to look into the date of Lucius’ murder, and Harry had never forgotten it. It didn’t matter that he had the meeting in the morning, he just needed to be around for his friend.

Harry remembered when Ginny had left, he couldn’t have gone to Ron, not that Ron was around anyway - at the time he was playing Quidditch in Germany. Hermione was always busy and they just weren’t as close as they had been.

Draco had opened the door to his flat, taken one look at Harry and dragged him inside. Harry had sobbed into his shoulder for most of the night. In the morning, Draco had simply said, “We’re going to stay at the Chateau in France for a week, tell Shacklebolt you’ve got herpes or something.”

Draco licked his ear, bringing him back to the present. “Fuck, I’m drunk.”

Harry side-eyed him and wiped his ear. “Mate, I am fully aware of how drunk you are. Keep your filthy tongue to yourself.”

Draco sniggered. “Wrong tongue, huh Harry?”

Theo suddenly appeared and Harry felt a wonderful sense of excitement and the feeling he was going to vomit, all at the same time. “Sorry Harry, I was looking for my coat. Do you need some help?”

“Speak of the devil,” Draco muttered and then belched.

Harry could have killed him.

Becoming friends with Draco had been slow going. He’d been so despondent and depressed on his release from prison that it had taken a while to get to ‘acquaintances’ let alone ‘mates’. What he worked out quickly was that Malfoy was incredibly loyal - and the few people he did take into his circle, were important.

When he met Draco’s proper mates it had been an odd experience, of course he knew of them from school, but they hadn’t really have any kind of relationship. They were all very different from Harry and he was unsure what to expect.

What surprised him was how Draco had handled it.

He would stand shoulder to shoulder with Harry and dare any of them to say anything about their unlikely friendship - surprisingly, Draco's old school friends had just shrugged and shook Harry’s hand. He liked most of them, took a while to get to know them properly, but for the beginning he liked Draco’s company best anyway.

But even during their first meeting, there had just been something about Theo that Harry was drawn to. In the early days of knowing him, he would have just said that Theo was his favourite of the Slytherins because of his personality. He was funny and obviously liked Harry a lot, which made it easier.

And, of course, Harry had noticed how attractive Theo was, because he just was. You couldn’t not notice it.

Ginny had said he looked like sex on a stick.

Theo had those model good-looks and people were constantly trying to get off with him, but Theo would laugh it off.

Unbelievably, Theo was shy and it wasn’t long before Harry felt the same protective streak that Draco had, when it came to Theo.

Blaise came across as obnoxious at first, it had taken a while to get to know him. He was nice enough, but Harry had never really warmed to him.

Pansy was terrifying and Harry just tended to stay quiet when the tall, attractive witch was around.

But Theo, with his kindness, and his belly laughs, and his sparkly eyes, was incredibly special. Harry had started to feel very differently about him recently, and Theo’s harmless flirting had begun making Harry ask himself some questions which he found difficult to answer.

What was worse, was that Theo had just spent most of the night chatting to some young guy who looked like a viking. He had long blonde hair that he kept putting behind one ear. Theo and this guy had laughed a lot together - not that Harry had been staring.

Much.

“What did he say?” Theo asked.

“I dunno, some bollocks. Can you grab his other arm, he’s killing me.”

“Shit, sorry!” Theo took Draco’s other arm and some of the weight lifted.

“How much have you drunk, you moron,” muttered Theo.

“A lot,” Draco said happily. “S’love you two. You know? M’best frenz and I fuckin’ love yers.”

“Lucky us,” Theo replied, as they pushed through the crowd.

Between the two of them, they managed to get Draco to the exit, thanked the young witches that held the door open, then they side-apparated to Grimmauld Place.

They arrived in the living room and shoved Draco onto the couch. “Steady fucking on!” He slurred.

Harry and Theo stood looking at him. Draco’s eyes were half-closed and he had red wine down his white shirt.

“You sure you don’t want me to take him back to mine?” Asked Theo, looking at Malfoy warily. “He is definitely gonna vom at some point.”

Harry sighed and sat down on the other sofa. “Nah, it’s cool. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Draco leaned his head back and shouted, “Stop talking like m’not here… I’YAM! Not n’ivisible, sivisible... Not, not here.”

Then he giggled.

“Why is he so drunk?” Theo asked, sitting down on the sofa next to Harry.

Harry’s heart raced to a sensible speed of a hundred miles an hour and he tried not to take deep breaths. Theo had this particularly divine smell and it made Harry feel nervous, excited and sick at the same time.

“It’s today…” Harry said quietly, messing with his hair and readjusting his glasses. Anything to not look directly into Theo’s eyes.

“Today, today?”

Harry nodded.

“It’s to-day-ay…” sang Malfoy tunelessly. “Silly fucking sod. Horrible Dad, great hair.”

Theo and Harry nodded.

Theo caught Harry’s attention and mouthed. Did he talk about it?

Harry tried not to look too much at Theo’s mouth. It was too beautiful.

He had gorgeous lips. Sometimes, he bit his lower lip when he covered a laugh, and it was Harry’s favourite thing in the whole world.

Harry looked back into Theo’s pretty green eyes and nodded.

Theo’s eyes were framed with the longest eyelashes he’d seen on a man. But then, he didn’t really take notice of other men’s eyes.

Just Theo’s - and therein lay the conundrum.

He mouthed back. A bit. And watched as Theo’s eyes lowered to his own mouth and then back again.

Theo smiled at him and bit that fucking lip.

Harry looked away, sticking his hands in his hair,

“You weren’t drinking Harry?”

“S’got a meeting with the old ball and chain, aintcha pal?” Draco said, getting comfy on the sofa. He yawned and folded his arms to his chest.

“Yeah, I’m seeing Shacklebolt in the morning.” And then, Harry added, “Not my ‘wife’, just to be clear - that’s usually what a ball and chain is, right?”

“E’s like a fukin’ wife, all blah blah blah n’ that,” muttered Draco, sensibly.

“Shit! Harry! Do you reckon this is it? The promotion?” Theo was so excited, Harry couldn’t help grinning back.

“I dunno,” Harry said, “Maybe?”

“Better be,” Draco punched his fist into his other hand, with his eyes closed. “M’gonna fuck him up if not.”

“What was that? You’re gonna fuck Shacklebolt if he doesn’t promote Harry? Seems a bit rash.”

“S’you, that would fuck ‘im. Stupid Theo, I like tits.” Draco tried to open his eyes but failed and got more comfy on the sofa instead.

“He’s not my type,” Theo rolled his eyes.

“Who’s yer type Theo, hmm?” Draco asked, wagging an errant finger.

Theo laughed and rustled Harry’s hair affectionately. “Harry obvs,”

Harry internally beamed and could have killed Malfoy all at the same time.

Theo did this a lot, he’d made no bones that he had a big crush on Harry. Had done, since school. It was all said tongue in cheek and harmlessly, Harry, supposed, to make him feel at ease. People teased Theo but he didn’t seem to care. He always said, “Can you blame me? He’s gorgeous and a bonafide hero.”

Harry didn’t know when the crush seemed to take on a different meaning. He really liked Theo. Really, really liked him.

He thought about Theo when he wasn’t around, he got excited when Theo was around, he liked hugging him and being near him. He had the same feelings he would if Theo was a girl.

But Theo wasn’t a girl - he was just Theo, and Harry felt something so intense and inexplicable, and he had no idea what to do about it.

What if it wasn’t what he thought it was?

“S’right, want some of the Potter lovin’.” Draco clapped a couple of times, missing the last one and then let his hands fall on his chest. “Haz is a ten, S’right. Makes sense.”

“Oh really?” Harry looked at Theo. Now or never. Do it. “If I’m your type, how come you were talking to that bloke for most of the night then?”

Theo looked pleasantly surprised. “Asmodeus?” Asmodeus?! Fuck sake. “He’s a distant cousin, Harry. He’s over from the States.”

Harry felt the sigh of relief fall over him.

Draco snored lightly.

Theo searched Harry’s face and then lowered his eyes. “Oh. You were joking.”

“Joking?” Harry said softly.

“Yeah, you know. Not really bothered that I was… I mean why would you be? Sorry, God, I seem to be making this extremely awkward.” Theo shook his head and started to get up.

Harry grabbed Theo’s arm. His heart in his throat. Theo looked down at his hand and then back at Harry.

“I was bothered,” Harry replied softly.

Theo’s sparkly eyes came to life, he glanced at Draco, who was seemingly out cold. And then turned his body to face Harry’s.

“You were?” He asked breathlessly.

Harry nodded. “I was jealous.”

“Of me? With my cousin?” Theo gave him a weird look, lightening the mood.

Harry laughed and nudged Theo. “Well, I didn’t know he was your cousin at the time.”

“I’m sorry! I promise to never talk to him again,” Theo’s eyes were alight with wonder as he looked at Harry, he moved a half inch closer.

“As you should, I am the boy who lived.” Harry moved a half inch closer to Theo.

Theo scoffed. “The boy who didn’t shut up, you mean.”

“The boy who’s your type,” smiled Harry, leaning into Theo.

“The boy who’s, one hundred percent, my type,” Theo bit his lip.

Harry pretended to sigh, “Sounds like it’s all talk to me,”

Theo’s eyes were wide open, “What do you mean?”

“Just words, no action.” Oh my God, Oh my God.

Theo grabbed Harry's jumper in his fist and brought him closer to his face. His eyes searched Harry’s.

Do it, please just do it.

Theo took a deep breath and crushed his beautiful lips to Harry’s. Harry closed his eyes and felt fireworks inside his brain. This was something he’d never experienced, something he never knew he wanted.

But God, I want Theo.

Theo finished the kiss, and then drew back, with wide eyes and a confused look on his face.

“Harry, are you okay? Umm, I’m sorry. I don’t know if… I mean. Fuck, do you hate me?”

Harry’s heart felt like it was going to explode. He gave Theo a dazed smile.

“Can you do it again?” Harry asked him breathlessly.

Then he thought, fuck it and he grabbed Theo’s jumper this time and kissed him.

The End