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Chapter Text

Dec 4, 2001.

Whispers in the Ministry

Is Draco Malfoy Turning Over a New Leaf?

Parvati Patil, Whims and Wonder, a Witch Weekly Column

The Ministry rumour mill is in full swing, and the name on everyone’s lips? Draco Malfoy—the wizarding world’s former bad boy, who’s now turning heads for all the right reasons. Once known for his ice-cold sneer and questionable company, Malfoy’s been making quite the entrance at Ministry events, looking every bit the polished, reformed (and fit) gentleman.

And let’s be honest, who hasn’t noticed? With that aristocratic charm, tall silhouette and piercing grey eyes, it’s hard not to. He now has an ever-increasing list of beautiful conquests. It sounds like Draco’s shedding more than just his bad reputation.

But what’s mainly catching everyone off guard is his newfound passion for issues like education and equality—topics we never thought we’d see him championing.

So, what’s behind this stunning transformation? Theodore Nott, one of Malfoy’s closest confidants, couldn’t resist a little tease, saying, “Draco’s working hard to redefine himself. He’s not the same bloke we knew at Hogwarts.” 

Could this be a case of the heartthrob Slytherin growing up—or is there something, or someone, else at play here? Whatever it is, Malfoy’s got us all spellbound. Hang tight, because there’s bound to be more to this deconstruction than meets the eye.

A few days later

Hermione Granger stood in line at the bustling Ministry cafeteria, her mind half on the policy drafts waiting on her desk in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Beside her, Luna Lovegood, her consultant on Golden Snidget repopulation efforts, stood chatting lightly about their latest project. A nearby conversation caught Hermione's attention as they waited to place their orders.

"I’m obsessed with Parvati Patil’s column," one witch said, her voice brimming with excitement. “She just wrote another piece about Draco Malfoy—I can’t get enough.”

A second witch joined in eagerly. “I saw him at that charity gala last week. Can confirm, he looked so irresistible I was charmed even from across the room. I don’t care about his reputation, honestly.”

“I do,” another witch added, “but Parvati said he’s had a change of heart. It’s quite something to see him so committed to causes the Malfoys used to avoid.”

Their lively conversation, punctuated by occasional laughter, made Hermione's ears perk up. She was intrigued by the mention of Draco Malfoy. She had heard about his new public persona, but this was the first time she’d heard such personal accounts from others. Hermione briefly wondered if she should start paying more attention to those gossip columns; Parvati always seemed to have a finger on the pulse of the wizarding world.

A fourth witch giggled. “What about those shoes he wore… You know what they say about men with big feet. They might have, well… other impressive attributes.”

Hermione involuntarily raised an eyebrow, a strange mix of curiosity and embarrassment creeping up on her. She glanced at Luna, who was smiling serenely, seemingly unbothered by the raunchy gossip.

At that moment, Draco Malfoy strolled into the cafeteria, bypassing the queue and heading directly to the pick-up counter. His entrance was understated, but he carried an air of quiet confidence that subtly demanded attention. It had been at least two years since Hermione had last seen him—albeit he’d sent a long and sincere apology letter, to which she’d responded with acceptance, and it seemed he had changed in that time. The skinny boy she remembered from school was still there, but his frame seemed stronger, his posture more composed.

As he approached the counter just a few feet from Hermione and Luna, the witches at the nearby table suddenly fell silent, exchanging furtive glances. Unaware of their earlier gossip, Malfoy greeted the cafeteria staff with his usual aloofness while showing them a piece of parchment.

“Hello, Draco,” Luna said warmly, breaking the silence with her usual casual grace.

Malfoy looked up, momentarily surprised, and turned to face Luna, a faint smile appearing on his lips before his gaze shifted to Hermione. Hermione’s eyes flicked between him and her friend, surprised to see such an easy familiarity. She caught his eye and gave a polite nod.

“Malfoy,” she said, trying to sound casual.

“Luna, Granger,” he greeted them.

“Lovely shoes, Draco,” Luna added, her tone innocent but with a twinkle of mischief in her eye. “They seem to be quite popular today.”

Draco blinked and looked down, momentarily puzzled by the comment, but quickly brushed it off. “Uh, thank you, Luna,” he replied, still slightly bemused.

Luna turned to Hermione, smiling. “I’ll grab us some drinks. Be right back.”

Draco’s attention shifted to Hermione as Luna floated towards the drink station. “Funny girl,” he remarked, his mouth twitching up tentatively. His voice lacked the sharp, condescending edge she had been so used to hearing from him. It was smoother now, almost cautious as if he wasn’t sure how she’d respond.

Hermione noticed how even his face up close looked different. His features were sharper and more defined, but his expression threw her off. Gone was the perpetual sneer she had come to associate with him. Instead, a bemused look played across his face, unfamiliar yet undeniably handsome. For a moment, it was like looking at a stranger who just happened to wear Draco Malfoy's face.

Feeling mildly flustered by the unexpected encounter, Hermione tried to decipher the connection she’d just witnessed. “It seems you and Luna know each other well.”

Draco shrugged lightly, a hint of a challenge playing on his gaze. “Our paths have crossed a few times. She’s quite insightful. We helped each other out.”

Hermione was suddenly reminded of Luna’s captivity at Malfoy Manor during the war. It dawned on her that Luna had been among the witnesses at Draco’s trial, where he was ultimately sentenced to probation. Hermione, who had only submitted a written statement, realised she didn’t know what had transpired at the manor before she arrived and the other girl was rescued. The easy familiarity between Draco and Luna hinted at a camaraderie forged in those difficult times, something Hermione hadn’t fully grasped until now.

As the awkward silence stretched on, Hermione found herself intrigued by the nuances of Malfoy’s perspective. She could sense a different side of him: earnest and focused, despite the veneer of detachment he often wore. Gone was the arrogant boy from their school days; in his place was a man who seemed genuinely interested in the world around him, even if he maintained a certain guardedness. 

Hermione, keen to bridge the gap, asked, “Are you staying for lunch?”

Draco shook his head, briefly glancing at the queue. “No, just picking up an order. Potter and Berrycloth are waiting back at the Auror’s office.”

“You’re meeting with Harry?”

“We just started on a case.” 

“Right,” Hermione nodded, suddenly feeling self-conscious at her awkwardness. The weight of their shared history made it difficult to navigate a simple conversation.

As they spoke, a brown paper bag had materialised on the counter behind Draco. Sensing the stilted conversation was winding down, he moved to collect it. “I should get back,” he offered.

Hermione nodded, but as he turned to leave, she called after him. “Wait!” Reaching over the counter, she grabbed a few packets of sauce from a container labelled “Only ONE per person”.

“Take some of these—Harry loves them.”

Draco glanced at the sauce packets in her hand, then back at Hermione. His expression softened slightly as he took them from her.

“Thanks, Granger,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “See you around, then.”

As Draco turned and walked away, Luna returned with their drinks, bidding him a friendly goodbye. Hermione watched him go, her gaze lingering on his retreating figure a moment longer than she intended, her mind quietly turning over the brief, strange exchange. He carried himself with an ease that hadn't been there before, as if he’d left the weight of his family name behind, or at least learned how to bear it differently.

Chapter Text

Mar 9, 2002.

Unlikely Alliances in the Ministry

Draco Malfoy Joins Forces with the Ministry’s Elite

Dennis Creevey, Ministry Correspondent for The Daily Prophet

The winds of change are blowing through the Ministry of Magic, and at the centre of it all is a rather surprising figure: Draco Malfoy. Yes, you read that right. The same Malfoy who once strutted around Hogwarts with a smirk and a superiority complex is now quietly but steadily weaving himself into the upper echelons of the Ministry’s power structure.

Malfoy’s on some sort of redemption arc, showing up at the Ministry with a newfound commitment to justice and reform as a Sacred Twenty-Eight member. It’s got people talking, and not just because of his past. He’s been spotted working side by side with some of the most influential figures in the wizarding world—figures like Harry Potter, who’s now Gawain Robards’ right-hand man in the Auror Office, and Percy Weasley, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister.

Let’s be real: for those of us who grew up during the war, seeing Malfoy in these circles raises a few eyebrows. But the word around the Ministry is that this isn’t just some political ploy. Those who’ve been keeping a close eye say Malfoy’s shift is genuine, and that he’s not just trying to score points.

"Malfoy’s been surprising everyone lately," a Ministry insider shared. "His work with the DMLE and the Minister’s Office on anti-Death Eater operations and financing early education efforts within the wizarding community shows that he’s serious about making amends. It’s not just lip service. He’s conscientiously putting in the work."

It’s not just about appearances, either. Malfoy’s been seen in deep discussions with Ministry officials, senior and junior staff members from various departments, along with other key players, including Hermione Granger, who’s been a leading voice in the Ministry for years ( turn to page 10 for the full scoop on Granger’s proposed bill for house-elf rights ). Together, they’ve been pushing several significant projects, particularly in the Wizengamot, where, let’s face it, the big decisions get made. 

"This is a critical time," Percy Weasley told me when I asked him about their collaborations. "The Ministry is facing challenges that require unity and a willingness to look beyond the past. Draco’s contributions have been valuable, and we’re all focused on the future."

Even Harry Potter chimed in, which, considering their history, is saying something. "It’s about what’s best for the wizarding world now," Harry said. "We’ve all changed since our school days, and since the transition to a renewed Ministry, our goal has always been to build something better."

Hermione Granger couldn’t be reached for comment, but it’s clear she’s been right in the thick of things with this group. 

With so many influential voices coming together, you’ve got to wonder: where’s this unlikely alliance going to take the wizarding world next? Keep your eyes peeled, because something tells me we’re in for some interesting times ahead.

One week before

Draco Malfoy sat in the spacious Ministry meeting room, his gaze sweeping over the piles of documents and scattered diagrams that filled the space. The room was unusually full today, with several Ministry officials in attendance, each representing a different department. Draco adjusted the cuff of his robe, his mind already calculating the angles he’d need to navigate this meeting.

Amongst others, Harry Potter and Percy Weasley occupied seats nearby, all ready to tackle the thorny issue of magical law enforcement reform. Each had a stack of parchments in front of them, the cluttered table reflecting the complexities of the discussion ahead. The topic at hand was brimming with potential pitfalls: reforming the use of force by Aurors and their methods, especially when magical creatures and dark artefacts were involved. Draco had anticipated tension but hadn’t expected it to be quite this charged so quickly.

Sitting across from him with her posture upright and determined, Hermione Granger was in full form. “We need to establish strict ethical guidelines for our magical law enforcement practices,” she said assertively. “We’ve seen house elves being framed for their masters' dark magic, centaurs persecuted just for existing near cursed sites, and vampires in custody left to die because no one would provide them with blood. If we don’t put clear safeguards in place, we risk further injustices against vulnerable beings.”

Draco felt a flash of irritation. He respected Granger’s dedication, but her idealism could be grating. Sometimes her rigid sense of right and wrong felt... naive. Sodding vampires, honestly?

“Granger, you’re not wrong, but you’re overlooking practicalities,” he interjected, his voice cool. “We’re dealing with dangerous elements, evil creatures and dark artefacts that could wipe out entire communities if mishandled. You can’t always afford the luxury of a perfect solution when lives are on the line.” He specifically meant human lives, but he wasn’t willing to stick his neck that far.

The air in the room thickened as Granger’s brown eyes narrowed, meeting his steely gaze. “And you think compromising our principles is the answer? If we keep treating beings like pawns, we’ll only perpetuate the cycle of fear and abuse. Just because it’s easier doesn’t make it right.”

Draco clenched his jaw, suppressing his growing frustration. She was so bloody stubborn, and yet he couldn’t entirely dismiss her concerns. “I’m not saying we throw ethics out of the window. But there are situations where swift action is necessary and accidents happen. What about the rare creatures and cursed objects we’ve recovered from former Death Eater estates?”

“You mean like yours?” She challenged fiercely.

He tried not to take the jab personally. He knew she was just defending her cause and department. Closing his eyes briefly, he took a steadying breath, something he’d had to practice often lately. “I’m only saying, if we hesitate, people could suffer.”

“People and magical beings. Which is precisely why we need to be careful!” Granger countered, her voice rising slightly. “Centaurs have been hunted and driven out of their lands because of suspected dark magic that wasn’t even theirs. We can’t afford to be reckless, or we’ll end up reinforcing the very prejudices we’re trying to dismantle. Therefore, we set rules and punishments for infractions for law enforcement too!”

Potter, ever the peacemaker and sensing the conversation was escalating, stepped in with a calm but imposing tone. “Look, both of you have valid points. The goal here is to protect everyone, whether human, creature, or something in between. But we need to strike a balance. We cannot allow innocent people nor beings to be harmed in our efforts to secure the wizarding world.”

Even with over a dozen people in the room, no one else dared to interrupt, but they all watched the heated debate intently. Draco exhaled slowly, reining in his temper. As much as he hated to admit it, Potter was right. 

“Sure,” he said, the tension in his voice softening slightly. “We can draft guidelines that ensure we act decisively without compromising basic rights. But we have to acknowledge that there will be situations where difficult choices are unavoidable.”

Granger’s gaze lingered on Draco for awhile, as if assessing his sincerity. “Fine,” she finally said, her tone more measured. “And you would agree that we need to make sure those guidelines are airtight. If we’re not vigilant, we’ll just end up creating loopholes that others can exploit.”

Draco nodded, recognising the truth in her words. Despite their differences, they both wanted the same thing—a safer, more just world. The tension in the room seemed to ease as they found common ground, and the discussion shifted towards more practical matters: how to implement these guidelines across the various departments, and how to train Aurors and other law enforcement officers in their application.

Draco gathered his things as the meeting wound down, including a small case of potion samples he’d brought to demonstrate their potential use in non-invasive truth extraction. He could feel the lingering energy of the room, the subtle undercurrents of alliances forming and shifting. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Potter leaning toward his friends.

“Fancy a drink, Hermione? Percy?” Potter asked, his tone light. “A few of us are heading to The Leaky Cauldron. You should join us.”

“It’ll be nice to catch up with everyone.” Draco heard Granger's smile in her response.

Percy’s agreement followed, marked by the sound of him tucking his parchments away. “I’m in. It’s been a long week.”

Draco tried to appear indifferent as he continued packing up, but he couldn’t ignore the slight pang of envy at their easy friendship. He wasn’t part of that circle, not really. But as the silence dragged on, he realised that Potter was looking his way.

“Draco,” Potter called out, catching Draco’s attention. The use of his first name wasn’t lost on him; they’d worked together on enough projects recently that a certain level of understanding had formed between them. “You coming along? We’re just going to unwind, no talking shop.”

Draco tensed up, momentarily surprised by the invitation. His gaze flicked to Granger, half-expecting her to bristle at the idea. But to his surprise, her expression remained open, almost expectant. She didn’t seem opposed to the idea. If anything, she looked like she was waiting to see what he’d do.

After a brief hesitation, Draco nodded, trying to mask the slight shift in his mood. “Why not?” he replied, keeping his tone casual.

Draco felt a mix of emotions as they left the meeting room together. He was half-dreading the evening, unsure how he would fit into a group he once despised. But at the same time, he couldn’t deny that it was nice to be included for a change. Despite his past, he wanted their acceptance—especially Granger’s. The idea of getting closer to her, of picking her brain in a more relaxed setting, if only to understand her better, intrigued him. The situation was daunting but oddly appealing, and he couldn’t help but wonder what might come of it.

Chapter Text

Oct 13, 2003.

Behind the Scenes with the Golden Trio

A Sneak Peek from Our Five Years Later Interview

Parvati Patil, Whims and Wonder, a Witch Weekly Column

Darlings, I just have to give you a little taste of what's to come from my chat with the one and only Golden Trio. We were having a cosy catch-up, talking about post-war life. Harry's Auror adventures, Hermione's latest crusades at the Ministry, and Ron being his usual cheeky self... when things took a delightfully personal turn.

At one point, Harry casually mentioned that he and Ginny are expecting their first child (yes, you read that right!), and the room instantly lit up with joy. I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me think back to Harry and I's Yule Ball date in fourth year. Who knows, that could have been me!

Of course, Ron and Hermione were thrilled, though Ron couldn't resist teasing Harry about not telling him sooner. And this gets juicy: As it turns out, even Harry wasn't the first to know. But here's the kicker: he sheepishly admitted that the first person his wife told she was pregnant was… Draco Malfoy! I know, my jaw hit the floor as well.

You'll have to read the full interview to find out how that happened. But let me tell you, the look on Ron's face after Harry retold the story was priceless, a mix of surprise and mock betrayal, while Hermione just smiled knowingly.

"Guess he's more useful than we thought," Ron joked, shaking his head in disbelief.

Hermione, ever the diplomat, chimed in with a charming grin. "It's surprising, isn't it? But they've got this… connection now. It's been fascinating to see."

Fascinating, indeed! Their casual banter showed just how much they've all grown since our Hogwarts days, and how even the most unexpected friendships can take root in the unlikeliest of places. Trust me, there's plenty more where that came from. This is just a taste of what's to come in the full interview. Watch out for our next issue, because you won't want to miss a single detail!

A few days before

After leaving work late one Friday afternoon, Hermione stepped into 12 Grimmauld Place for a visit. The house had always carried an air of foreboding, with its dark corners and heavy curtains. Since Ginny and Harry finally got married a year ago and took it over, it had begun to soften. The scent of fresh paint lingered in the hallways, mingling with the more familiar smells of old wood and dust. It was a house in transition, much like its inhabitants.

Hermione looked around, puzzled by the quietness of the usually lively house. The Potters were still renovating rooms, and more often than not, someone was invited for dinner.

She wandered into the kitchen, her confusion deepening as she found Draco Malfoy at the stove. It wasn't the sight of Draco that caught her off guard—she had grown used to seeing him around in more relaxed settings over the past several months—but rather the air of contentment he seemed to exude and the fact that he was alone, playing chef. It was far from the tense, guarded persona he once carried.

"What on earth is going on here?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms and eyeing him with curiosity and amusement.

Draco glanced up from the cutting board, a smirk playing on his lips as he met her gaze. "Hey. We're celebrating," he said, raising his glass to her as if that explained everything. "Go upstairs and ask why."

Hermione frowned but did as he suggested, her curiosity piqued. Draco's chuckle followed her out of the kitchen as she turned to head upstairs, sending a ripple of flutters through her stomach.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Hermione hesitated outside the Potter's bedroom door, hearing the soft murmur of voices inside. She knocked lightly before pushing the door open, finding Ginny sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes red but her smile bright. Harry stood close by, his face lit with an expression Hermione couldn't quite decipher.

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed, her face lighting up as soon as she saw her. "You won't believe what happened today."

Hermione stepped into the room, feeling a slight tension in the air. "What's going on? Why is Draco downstairs cooking dinner?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin forming. "Well, it's a bit of a long story, but the short version is… we're having a baby."

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked from Harry to Ginny. "You're pregnant? That's wonderful news!"

Ginny smiled, a tear slipping down her cheek as she patted the spot beside her on the bed for Hermione to sit. The two women embraced, and Hermione felt a surge of warmth and happiness for her friends.

"Yes, I just found out today. I told Draco first," Ginny admitted into Hermione's shoulder, the words muffled but still clear. Hermione pulled back, breaking their hug, her surprise mingled with a sense of understanding.

"Draco?" she repeated, but with less shock than she might have months ago. "How did that happen?"

Ginny laughed softly. "You wouldn't believe it if I didn't tell you myself."

"We can do that while we eat," Harry said, placing a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "I just need to change first. Let's figure out what Draco's done to my kitchen."

Ginny teased, "Can't be worse than what you did that one time."

Hermione recalled the cooking mishap Harry had caused during early renovations. It had become something of a running joke in their group. She chuckled, shaking her head at the absurdity of it all.

"I'll meet you downstairs."

She gave Ginny another warm smile before heading out of the room, her mind whirling with the revelation and the bizarre involvement of Draco Malfoy.

When she re-entered the kitchen, Draco was stirring something in a large pot and the aroma of something warm and comforting filled the room. The scent tugged at memories of simpler times, though the sight of Draco in an apron was still a novelty. Besides that, his relaxed, confident posture at the stove made the scene feel surprisingly domestic.

Hermione had never imagined Draco Malfoy fitting seamlessly into their lives, least of all hers. But here he was, standing in a kitchen that had seen countless Order meetings and quiet family dinners, stirring a pot like he belonged. And, to her surprise, she realised maybe he did.

He glanced up as she approached, one eyebrow quirked up slightly, and she noticed how his smirk melted into a more genuine smile as he looked at her. One of those rare smiles she'd started feeling increasingly fond of.

"Well?" he asked, his voice laced with a softer tone than usual, matching the warmth of his smile.

"They're having a baby," Hermione said, still marvelling at the idea. "I can't believe you were the first to know."

Draco shrugged, his gaze returning to the pot. "I'm as surprised as you are. It wasn't exactly planned."

Hermione nodded, feeling a sense of reassurance in Draco's comfortable presence. Over the past months, she had seen a different side of him—one that was more thoughtful and more involved in the lives of the people she cared about.

"What are you making?" she asked, peeking into the pot.

"Chicken stew," Draco replied, his tone casual. "Thought they might need something comforting after all the excitement."

Hermione nodded approvingly. "It smells wonderful. I didn't know you could cook."

Draco gave a small, self-deprecating smile, and for the first time, Hermione noticed his expression become softer when he wasn't guarding himself. "Had to learn to fend for myself, didn't I? Not like I could just summon house-elves anymore."

His words made Hermione pause, and she observed him closely, noting the subtle hints of a more complex individual beneath his public persona. This wasn't the Draco Malfoy she had known at Hogwarts. The boy who had once prided himself on his pureblood status and entitlement was now a man who had chosen a different path.

"Not living at the manor?" she asked, her tone gentle but probing.

"No," he said simply, turning the heat down on the stove. "Moved to Muggle London a while ago. Needed a change of scenery."

His words were casual, but there was a hint of something deeper in his tone, almost vulnerable. Hermione saw it in how his fingers tightened slightly around the handle of the pot, and how his eyes flickered with a brief but unmistakable uncertainty. It was a side of Draco she was still getting used to. He was trying, quietly and earnestly, to belong.

She raised an eyebrow, impressed. "That's… unexpected. But it sounds like a good decision."

Draco smirked, glancing at her sideways, and the look in his eyes reflected a mix of challenge and something softer. "I have my moments."

Hermione laughed softly, leaning against the counter. This was new. This banter, this ease between them.

"What else can you cook?"

Draco turned to face her, and for a moment, she noticed the faint flush high on his cheekbones, just above the collar of his shirt. His words held a suggestive edge. "You can find out if you come over sometime. I can cook for you." Draco's eyes flickered toward the stove before returning to hers, his smirk tentative, as if testing her response.

"Oh, really?" she teased, folding her arms, feeling the air thicken around them. "Is that an invitation?"

"Only if you're interested," Draco replied, his voice a touch lower, gaze steady but not without a flicker of uncertainty. His eyes darted to her lips for a split second, enough for her to catch it. His fingers flexed against the wooden spoon, betraying a nervousness he tried to mask behind his nonchalant stance.

Hermione shifted slightly, the heat from the stove and his words raising the temperature around her. Her pulse quickened as a faint flush crept up her neck, and it wasn't just from the simmering pot. Her eyes traced the sharp line of his jaw, the light sheen of sweat at his temples, and the steady rhythm of his breathing. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms, the muscles flexing just enough to catch her eye as he stirred. There was something disarming about how his usual composure seemed to unravel in these little moments, something raw that made her breath catch.

"I might be," she said, her voice soft with playful intent. "If the stew turns out well."

Draco chuckled, but it wasn't his usual smooth sound. There was a hint of surprise, almost as though he hadn't expected her to meet him halfway. "No pressure, then," he murmured, turning back to the pot.

Their exchanges had evolved over the months, shifting from sharp jabs to something more playful, almost flirtatious. Hermione couldn't help but find Draco increasingly endearing, especially in moments like these when his usual cool demeanour cracked just enough to reveal the faint blush colouring his pale cheeks. The more time they spent together, the clearer it became how layered and complex he truly was. His dry wit and sharp intellect were traits she'd always noticed, but there was a warmth to his humour she hadn't expected. And now, watching him cook, it struck her that it made perfect sense. He had always excelled in Potions, and cooking wasn't so different. The precision, the attention to detail. It was like he approached it with the same quiet confidence, blending knowledge with practicality and creativity in a way she found utterly attractive.

Hermione was surprised to find herself enjoying this new dance they'd begun. It was as though they were both testing the waters, seeing how far they could push the boundaries of their tentative friendship.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs broke the moment, and a few seconds later, Ginny and Harry appeared in the doorway, their faces glowing with excitement.

"Smells amazing in here," Ginny said, beaming. "I'm starving."

"Dinner's almost ready," Draco announced, grabbing plates from the cupboard. "Everyone grab a seat. Pregnant lady gets to be served first."

Moments after, the cosy kitchen of Grimmauld Place was filled with the warm glow of candlelight and the rich aromas of the dinner Draco had prepared. Harry, Hermione, and Draco were all sharing a bottle of elven wine, while Ginny stuck to water, and the atmosphere was surprisingly jolly. As they all sat down around the kitchen table, Hermione glanced at Draco, a small smile tugging at her lips. She was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Alright, crack on," Hermione began, glancing between them. "Someone mind telling me what exactly happened?"

Ginny exchanged a quick look with Harry, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, it all started when Draco barged into our bedroom this afternoon."

"Hang on," Draco interrupted, raising a hand. "I didn't barge in. I was delivering those potion ingredients Potter needed, and when I heard noises upstairs, I thought someone might have broken in. How was I supposed to know you were in there, crying your eyes out?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You thought someone broke in, so you decided to investigate on your own instead of calling for help?"

Draco shrugged, taking a sip of his wine. "Old habits die hard."

Ginny laughed, leaning forward. "Anyway, I was upstairs, feeling all sorts of emotions because I'd just found out I was pregnant. So when Draco bursts in, wand out and everything, I nearly had a heart attack!"

"I didn't burst in," Draco corrected, but Ginny waved him off.

"You did," she insisted with a grin. "And then you just stood there, looking completely lost when I told you I was pregnant."

Harry chuckled, joining in. "He really did, Hermione. You should have seen his face when I came in. It was like he'd never encountered a pregnant woman before."

"Because I haven't, not one that's about to hex me anyway," Draco shot back, but his tone was light. "And then she starts crying again, so I had to offer congratulations or something."

"Or something?" Hermione repeated, her tone dripping with amusement.

"Well, then she started crying even more, and I wasn't sure if I'd said the wrong thing," Draco admitted, looking slightly embarrassed.

Ginny was laughing now, the memory clearly amusing to her. "He asked if I didn't want the baby! Honestly, Hermione, this idiot looked ready to jump out the window when I asked him for a hug."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh as well, imagining the scene. "So, did you give her a hug?"

"Obviously," Draco replied, sounding defensive, but his cheeks were pink. "What was I supposed to do? Leave her standing there, crying? Potter would have killed me if I'd just walked away."

Harry grinned. "I think it was the first time I've ever seen Draco so completely out of his depth."

"I'm glad you find it so funny," Draco said dryly, though his smirk betrayed his amusement.

Hermione looked between them, shaking her head in disbelief. "I'm still trying to picture this. Draco Malfoy, hugging Ginny Potter while she's in tears. And you just walked in on this, Harry?"

Harry nodded, leaning back in his chair. "I got back a few minutes later. Kreacher alerted me of someone who was in the house and causing a kerfuffle, but I wasn't expecting to find them like that. It was definitely a sight to see."

"And then Draco decided to announce the news for me." Ginny nudged Harry playfully, then imitating Draco in a low voice, "She's pregnant, and she wants to keep it."

They all erupted into laughter and Draco held up his hands in mock defence. "I thought you were too emotional to say it yourself! And someone had to make sure Potter didn't faint or kill me."

Hermione smiled, thoroughly enjoying the story. "And then you all just… decided to celebrate together?"

"Well," Ginny said, shrugging with a grin, "once the shock wore off a tad, I realised this was a happy moment. Draco was already here, and it made sense to have a little celebration. He even offered to cook."

Draco smirked. "Figured I'd save Potter from burning down the kitchen again in his excitement."

Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Never," Draco replied, raising his glass. "To the Potter family, expanding one unexpected guest at a time."

Hermione copied his motion, her heart warm from the friendship she saw between them. "To the Potters."

They all clinked their glasses together, the mood light and filled with laughter. It was a moment that encapsulated just how far they'd all come, and Hermione couldn't help but feel a deep sense of contentment as she looked around the table. Even if the path to get here had been rocky, moments like these made it all worth it.

Chapter Text

Feb 18, 2004.

Who is Draco Malfoy’s Mystery Person?

A Bachelor No More? Speculation Grows Around Draco Malfoy’s Love Life

Parvati Patil, Whims and Wonder, a Witch Weekly Column

Just when we thought we had Draco Malfoy all figured out—what with his dazzling political transformation and those piercing grey eyes that seem to see right through you—new whispers have started swirling around the wizarding community. And let’s just say, they’re deliciously intriguing. It seems our former Slytherin bad boy, who’s now the Ministry’s most eligible bachelor, has been quietly slipping out of the social spotlight since the Christmas holidays.

That’s right, ladies and gents, the same Draco Malfoy who once couldn’t get enough of the limelight (and whose steamy rendezvous with enchanting witches had hearts racing, with many a damsel eager to spill all the scandalous details of their intimate encounters) has been mysteriously withdrawing from the social scene. 

Your favourite intrepid columnist (me) reported to you just two months ago how the Slytherin Prince had turned up solo at the extravagant annual New Year’s Eve gala. 

For weeks now, those in the know have noticed Malfoy turning down invitations left and right, opting instead for more private, low-key evenings. A far cry from the lavish lifestyle we’re all so used to seeing him flaunt. This tantalising turn of events has left everyone wondering: what (or who) has managed to enchant this notorious bachelor enough to make him trade in his public displays of charm for more private, elusive moments?

When I caught up with Draco to see if I could get the scoop, he gave me that trademark smirk of his, but what he said next was far more telling than he probably intended. "The bachelor life loses its charm when the table for two stays empty," he remarked, his voice tinged with a vulnerability that had me raising an eyebrow.

Now, what’s a girl to make of that? Could it be that Draco Malfoy is finally off the market? And if so, who’s the lucky witch (or wizard) who’s caught his eye? Or is it possible that our brooding bachelor is still waiting for this mystery woman to notice him back? Whatever the case, the wizarding world is buzzing with excitement and speculation.

One thing’s for sure: Draco Malfoy’s days of carefree bachelorhood seem to be slipping away, and I, for one, can’t wait to see how this story unfolds. Stay tuned, darlings, because this story has the potential to be even more thrilling than his good looks. 

Two months before

Draco sat comfortably in Hermione Granger’s office, now a familiar setting. He often found himself here lately, even when he had no business at the Ministry. He liked the tranquillity of her space, a refuge from the chaos of his own life. Sometimes he’d bring her a cup of her favourite tea and a bag of pastries from a little shop he knew she liked. When she wasn’t busy, they’d engage in stimulating conversations and debates, which brought a refreshing change to his routine. Sometimes, he’d just sit reading while she worked, content in her company.

As she entered her office, she was greeted by the sight of him sitting in one of the wide armchairs in the corner, casually flipping through a copy of Witch Weekly he’d picked up from her desk. He raised an eyebrow at the latest gossip about Harry and Ginny, noting how Parvati Patil’s columns often walked a fine line between truth and tactful embellishment. From the article, he understood that Harry and Ginny had carefully curated the information they allowed to be published, using Patil to their advantage. It was an interesting approach he’d never considered since he rarely paid any mind to gossip.

Granger, however, seemed irritated as she walked in. Her usual composed demeanour was frayed around the edges. She wore a creamy white blouse that accentuated her figure and soft grey pin-striped trousers that added a touch of professional elegance. Draco’s eyes followed her as she slipped off her flat shoes near the door, revealing dark thin stockings that clung to her skin. She closed the door with a soft click before moving in front of her desk and leaning back against it.

“Rough day?” Draco asked instead of a hello.

“You could say that.” Her voice held an edge that hadn’t been there before. “So why aren’t you with Mary today? Or was it Lisa?”

Draco, caught off guard by her tone, decided to play it off lightly. “Jealous, Granger?” He tilted his head, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

“Absolutely not,” she shot back, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms over her chest. He couldn’t help but appreciate the way the movement pushed up her breasts, the white blouse pulling slightly against the fabric.

Draco rubbed his chin, pretending to think deeply. “Sounds like you might fancy me a little bit, doesn’t it?”

She scoffed, clearly annoyed, but something else flickered in her eyes; something he couldn’t quite identify.

“I fancy you,” he added, his voice playful, though a hint of sincerity lingered beneath the surface. He’d been thinking about this for a while.

“You seem to fancy a lot of girls,” she commented dryly, her eyes holding his with a challenging stare.

“Well, I… get frustrated. Often,” he admitted, trying to sound innocent. But his tone carried a suggestive undercurrent that he knew she wouldn’t miss. He tossed the magazine onto the coffee table as he gauged her reaction.

“And you fix that by shagging everything that moves?” Her words were sharp, and she looked tired—exhausted, even. He could see it in the way she held herself, the way she was trying to push him away.

He liked pushing back.

“Shagging helps,” he said, standing up slowly and stepping towards her. “You should try it.”

“Yeah? How does it work, just pick anyone?” Her voice wavered just slightly, and he held her gaze, watching as she was the one to look away first.

“Not just anyone,” he almost whispered, now close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her. He reached out, gently uncrossing her arms, feeling the tension in her body as he placed his hands on her waist. They’d hugged before and shared touches casually enough, but this felt different. He could tell she was interpreting his closeness differently now. She rested her hands on his arms, silently communicating that she wasn’t entirely pushing him away.

“Don’t,” she said softly, her voice tinged with regret. “It was just a kiss. A mistake.”

It was the first time she’d mentioned the kiss they’d shared after a party at Theo’s place a few days ago. A kiss that had lingered on his mind far more than he’d like to admit.

“It wasn’t just any kiss, was it? It was an incredible kiss.” He wasn’t joking, not this time. He wanted to hear her admit it. “Right, Granger?”

“It was, but it won’t happen again,” she said, her resolve firming as she tried to regain control of the situation.

“Why are you so sure?” he asked, taking her hands in his.

“Stop. We can’t do this here,” she replied, shaking her head slightly, though she gently rubbed her thumbs against his skin. She looked smaller than usual, leaning back on her desk while he towered over her, close enough to see every flicker of emotion in her eyes.

“Do what?” he pressed, leaning in closer, lowering his head to try to catch her gaze. “What are you thinking about?”

“I can’t,” she finally said, after a long pause. She closed her eyes, pulling away from him. This was her limit. She pushed him back gently, walking around to the other side of her desk. Draco smartly decided not to follow, giving her space.

“What? I thought you liked my flirting,” he teased, though with a hint of genuine hurt. He loved flirting with her. It was one of the few things he felt brought them closer these days.

“Can’t believe I ever said that,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. She rarely let her guard down like this, and he knew he’d managed to crack through her defences, even if just a little. She sat down and began rummaging through her top drawer, searching for something. He knew she kept sweets in there—sweets she often shared with him.

“Who are you going to the New Year’s Eve gala with?” he asked casually, holding out his hand and wiggling his fingers, knowing she’d understand his silent request. She paused, processing his sudden question, before pulling out a piece of candy and handing it to him.

“Myself,” she answered, her tone flat.

Draco sat down in one of the guest chairs with a grunt. This was why he preferred the armchairs in the corner. Granger had once mentioned that she favoured these more rigid chairs because they discouraged guests from lingering too long. Ignoring the discomfort, he focused on the conversation at hand.

“Really?” He chewed the candy, considering her response. “I’d like to go with you.”

“We’re not a couple, Draco. Everyone would assume things,” she replied, her words hitting him harder than he’d expected. The candy he swallowed suddenly tasted bitter.

“So? Let’s go on a date first, then. Or several. Then we can go as a couple, and they’d assume right.” He smiled cheekily, trying to lighten the mood, but she wasn’t having it.

“What, so you can get good press, then turn around and shag some other girl in line?” Her words were sharp, cutting through his playful demeanour.

“I wouldn’t do that. And I don’t care about the press,” he said, his irritation growing.

“Like you don’t care about what Parvati writes about you?” she shot back, nodding towards the magazine he’d tossed aside.

“What are you on about? No, I don’t. Do you?”

“Well, I have certain aspirations, so yes, public perception matters sometimes. Even stupid gossip,” she replied, her tone laced with an implication he couldn’t ignore. Patil might be a massive gossip, but she wasn’t a liar as far as he’d been able to ascertain.

“Oh, I get it. It’s not really the press you’re worried about, is it? It’s me,” he said, his ego stinging.

“That’s not what I said,” she retorted, but the damage was done.

“You didn’t have to. Clearly, I’d mar public perception of you. By the way, most of the girls photographed next to me, or the names printed beside mine, didn’t even get a kiss. You should know me better.”

“Don’t be daft, everyone loves you now, that ’s the issue. Draco, it’s not about how people see it, it’s how I see it. Even if I wanted to kiss, or shag, or date you… I wouldn’t want to be another name in a long queue of admirers waiting to have a piece of you.”

Draco leaned back, his gaze distant as he thought about how Granger often drew attention from other men. It was something he’d noticed more often lately, the way their eyes lingered on her, admiring the very qualities that had drawn him in—her heart-shaped face, bright round eyes, sharp intellect, unwavering confidence, and the warmth she exuded even when she wasn’t trying. She never engaged with them like he did with other witches, but that didn’t matter. Whenever he noticed other men paying special attention to her, an uncomfortable knot tightened in his chest.

Her words hit him harder than he’d expected. He’d been trying to rebuild his life, reputation, and everything stripped away from him after the war. And now, the one person he wanted to like him, to see him for who he was trying to become, thought he was just another player.

But it wasn’t just Granger’s opinion that weighed on him. His mother, Narcissa, had been quietly persistent since the dust settled after the war, arranging events with certain families and subtly leaving him to socialise on his own with prospective witches she deemed "suitable". She rarely said it outright, but Draco suspected she had even contacted press photographers on more than one occasion, ensuring his appearances on the society pages. She wanted him to integrate into society and build a respectable new life. Not so much for Lucius or out of loyalty to the past, but because she needed to see the Malfoy line continue—a family to pour her love into, as Draco had become her sole light in a world that had grown dimmer. Narcissa longed for grandchildren, for a less uncertain future, and Draco knew deep down that she would never stop hoping he’d find someone to build that future with. 

For the time being, he had indulged her wishes. He attended functions, flirted with the "appropriate" witches, and played into society’s expectations. But none of it had been serious. He’d been having fun, enjoying the attention, without any real intention of settling with anyone. He entertained his mother’s desires, but on his terms—at least, it’s how he had justified it to himself.

Draco knew his behaviour—flirting and casual entanglements—might have seemed careless, even disrespectful, in comparison. It was mostly for show, a habit born from years of deflection and self-preservation. However, as he thought about it now, it all seemed hollow. While he hadn’t initially considered a serious relationship with Granger, something had shifted lately. Yet here he was, making a mess of it with the one person whose opinion of him he actually cared about. But above all, he valued their friendship too much to risk pushing her away. He enjoyed the teasing, the banter that came so naturally between them, and the thought of losing that connection, of losing her, was unsettling in a way he hadn’t expected. He didn’t like feeling this way. Maybe it was time to consider what he wanted from her, and what he was willing to give up in return.

“I see,” he said, his voice quieter than before. He nodded, a resolve forming in his mind. He had more work to do on himself, his image, his approach to relationships… everything. He stood and left her office, the door closing softly behind him. He would fix this. He had to.

Chapter Text

Sep 1, 2004.

The Ministry’s Rising Star

Hermione Granger Appointed to Lead New Department Overseeing Magical Beings’ Rights

Dennis Creevey, Ministry Correspondent for The Daily Prophet

In a fantastic development that perfectly aligns with her unwavering commitment to justice and equality, Hermione Granger has been appointed to head a brand-new department at the Ministry of Magic. As the new Head of the Department of Magical Being Welfare and Standards (DMBWS), Granger will oversee the inspection and regulation of living and working conditions for house elves, werewolves, goblins, and other magical beings across the wizarding world.

Our exclusive scoop reveals that the funding for this innovative department comes from a generous anonymous investor who is backing the DMBWS until it becomes self-sufficient. The department plans to generate revenue through fines for violations of magical beings’ rights and will implement additional measures such as licensing, partnerships with other organisations and advocacy groups, and providing consultation and legal services to ensure its long-term success.

Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt praised the move as a significant advancement in the Ministry’s ongoing mission to ensure fairness and dignity for all magical beings. "Hermione Granger has been a driving force behind reforms that advocate for the respectful treatment of every magical being," Shacklebolt stated. "Her new leadership role is crucial to our commitment to creating a more equitable society."

A significant aspect of Granger’s new role will be her close collaboration with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE), particularly in tackling cases of abuse or mistreatment. Hestia Jones, a key player in the DMLE, expressed her excitement about working with Granger. "Hermione’s passion for justice and her profound knowledge of magical law and creatures make her an excellent partner in this vital work," Jones commented. "We are eager to tackle any cases of wrongdoing with swift and effective action."

The Department of Magical Being Welfare and Standards will serve as a bridge between the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and the DMLE. Granger’s responsibilities will include overseeing inspections, enforcing new regulations, and ensuring fair working conditions and legal protections for all magical beings.

In a brief statement, Hermione Granger shared her enthusiasm for her new role. "I am deeply honoured to take on this position," Granger said. "Ensuring that all magical beings have fair and safe living and working conditions is something I am passionate about, and I look forward to collaborating with my colleagues in the Ministry to achieve meaningful progress."

The launch of the Department of Magical Being Welfare and Standards, under Granger’s leadership, represents a pivotal moment for the Ministry and its efforts to address longstanding issues within the magical community. As the department embarks on its important mission, the wizarding world will be watching closely to see the positive changes it will bring.

We’ll check back with more updates as Hermione Granger steps into this crucial role and the new department begins its groundbreaking work.

The following weekend

The pub was exactly the atmosphere Hermione needed tonight—unassuming, warmly lit, and tucked away in a quiet corner of Muggle London where the noise of the wizarding world couldn’t reach them. They’d managed to snag a large booth at the back, giving them just enough privacy to speak freely without drawing attention. The walls were adorned with old posters and the tables were worn from years of use, creating a cosy atmosphere that made the night feel special.

Surrounded by friends, Hermione felt a warm sense of fellowship. Harry, Ginny, and Ron were naturally her closest circle. But Draco, Theo, Blaise, and even Pansy had become a regular part of their extended group, their grievances smoothing out over time. Tonight, Parvati and Neville balanced the group’s dynamic, and together, they formed an easy, comfortable rapport, despite their varied backgrounds.

Hermione was seated between Ginny and Draco, with a half-finished pint of beer in front of her. It was rare to have everyone together like this—work, relationships, and life in general often pulled them in different directions. But tonight was an exception, and they were all here to celebrate her new role at the Ministry. The warmth of their company made her feel light, even a bit giddy.

Harry, seated across from her, grinned as Ginny recounted a story about James, who had recently discovered his ability to grip and was now unstoppable. “He takes hold of Harry’s glasses and pulls them right off,” Ginny laughed. “He’s too strong for a twenty-three-weeks-old.”

Hermione chuckled at the image, rejoicing at the thought of the tiny boy, who would likely inherit his parents’ knack for getting into mischief.

Across the table, Neville and Pansy were deep in conversation about a rare plant he’d been nursing back to health, while Ron was trying—and failing—not to laugh at something Blaise had said next to him. Unlike him, Parvati, sitting on the other side of Blaise, wore a bright smile. She’d already been invited into the group a few times and, unsurprisingly, her charming and effervescent nature made it easy for her to get along with everyone. Of course, Blaise was smitten.

Hermione felt Draco’s knee brush against hers under the table, a small, subtle connection that sent a familiar warmth through her. She glanced at him, catching his eye, and found herself smiling. It was still a bit surreal, this new chapter of their relationship, but she couldn’t deny how much she enjoyed it. How much she enjoyed him.

After their argument last December, she’d worried she might have damaged their friendship beyond repair. It hadn’t been fair to lash out at him the way she had, even if she’d been frustrated by his behaviour, coupled with the worst day she’d had in a while, where everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. He hadn’t deserved that.

She’d apologised soon after, admitting that her anger had stemmed more from a terrible day than anything he’d done directly. Draco had accepted her apology with a grace she hadn’t expected, and from there, things had slowly begun to mend between them.

But what had surprised her most was how Draco had taken her words to heart. In the months that followed, he’d worked to better himself by investing in Theo’s potion research business, travelling abroad to source rare ingredients with Neville’s expert guidance; reconnecting with old friends like Pansy and Blaise, which had resulted in a couple of sweet but unexpected pairings amongst their group, and he even began seeing a mind healer regularly. Hermione had watched him grow, quietly impressed by his determination to change, even if he never said it outright. The old Draco would have been defensive and dismissive, but this Draco… this Draco was someone she found herself admiring.

Their friendship had shifted after the Potters’ party in early April to celebrate their newborn. Draco hosted it in his large backyard and even designed a simple yet delicious menu since he’d taken to become a home chef in earnest. She could still picture how he’d looked that day, cradling baby James in his arms, his expression a mixture of fascination and tenderness. It had made her heart skip a beat. The chemistry between them had resurfaced that night, stronger than ever, leading to a few kisses that had left her breathless and confused in equal measure. 

Since then, they’d fallen back into a pattern of tentative flirting and teasing, but there was more to it now; something deeper had been growing slowly but steadily. They’d shared stolen moments of intimacy, and quiet dinners (although always with a group) and late-night conversations, but they’d yet to cross that final line, to fully give in to what was building between them.

Hermione was feeling frustrated by it lately, by how they kept dancing around the inevitable. But she also understood why Draco was cautious. Their undefined situationship, whatever it was, still felt fragile, like something precious and delicate that could shatter if exposed too soon. They both knew the scrutiny they’d face if they went public, and neither was quite ready.

“Hermione?” Ron’s voice pulled her back to the present, and she blinked, realising she’d been lost in thought. “You’re awfully quiet over there.”

“Sorry,” she said, giving him a sheepish smile. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking about work, or thinking about something—or someone—else?” Blaise asked, his tone teasing.

Hermione felt a blush creep up her cheeks, and she quickly took a sip of her beer to hide it. “A bit of both, I suppose.”

“Speaking of someone,” Ron said, leaning forward. “Mum’s been asking when will you come around for one of her Sunday lunches again. She’s got it in her head that you’re working yourself into the ground.”

Hermione smiled warmly. “I do miss her cooking. Tell her I’ll be there soon, and I promise not to bring any work with me.”

“Good,” Ron replied, nodding. “Mum’ll be pleased to have you. You know how she gets when she thinks one of us is going hungry.”

Draco smirked, unable to resist a bit of teasing. “Well, we all know that’s not a problem for you, Weasley. You’ve never missed a meal in your life.”

Ron rolled his eyes in annoyance and a sarcastic grin spread across his face. “Malfoy, I almost like you now, so don’t push it.”

Draco chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. Hermione smiled, shaking her head, then felt the warmth of Draco’s hand finding hers under the table. He gave it a light squeeze, and she squeezed back, appreciating his silent affection.

Across the table, Pansy’s tipsy eyes sparkled with playful curiosity. She leaned forward, a cheeky smile tugging at her lips. “So,” she began casually, “when are you two finally going to make things official?”

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat, and she felt Draco’s hand tense slightly in hers. She glanced around the table, her eyes briefly meeting Parvati’s. Though she had been a good addition to their circle, Draco had expressed concern about potential liability. Parvati was very observant, so Hermione and Draco had agreed to subtly tone down their affections around her, just in case.

Draco was the first to respond, his tone light but firm. “Pansy, not everything needs a label, you know.”

Pansy tilted her head, clearly not buying his evasion. “Oh, come on, Draco. It’s not like we’re blind. Something’s going on here.”

Hermione managed an awkward laugh, trying to keep the mood light. She was at a loss for words, not knowing how to answer such a prying inquiry. Hermione had yet to get used to Pansy’s forward and bold, sometimes bordering on impertinent, demeanour. She also didn’t want to lie or seem overly defensive because she didn’t want to give Draco the impression that she thought they were doing anything wrong or that she was embarrassed about him.

Parvati, who had been observing quietly, raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the unspoken tension. “It’s none of our business, anyway,” she said, her tone understanding but with a hint of curiosity, glancing at their hands beneath the table. “As long as you’re both happy.”

Draco’s grip on Hermione’s hand relaxed slightly, and he nodded in agreement. “Exactly.”

Theo chimed in with a grin. “Leave them be, Pansy. If there’s anything to tell, I’m sure we’ll hear it in due time.”

Pansy huffed but let it go, leaning back in her seat with a playful pout. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop prying... for now.”

Before the tension could linger, Harry leaned forward with an easy smile. “Speaking of announcements, Neville, when will you tell us about that new greenhouse project you’ve been working on? Heard it’s impressive.”

Neville perked up, his eyes lighting with enthusiasm. “Oh, it’s still in early development, but I’ve been working with some rare magical herbs Draco brought back from the Galapagos—ones that could revolutionise potion making. Since they’re non-native, they require controlled, specific growing conditions.”

The conversation naturally flowed into Neville’s latest endeavour, and Hermione exhaled quietly, grateful to her friend for the subtle shift away from the spotlight. As she listened to Neville discuss his work with rare herbs, her thoughts briefly drifted to earlier in the year, when she had taken her annual leave to visit her parents in Australia. During that time, Draco travelled to the Galapagos to secure a source for Theo through Neville. It had taken him almost a month, and while they stayed in touch, it wasn’t as often as either of them would have liked. The distance had made Hermione realise just how much she missed him. When he finally returned, tanned and speaking a bit of Spanish, she found herself more attracted to him than ever.

As the night wore on, the group gradually began to disperse. Harry and Ginny were the first to leave, needing to get back to James, followed by Neville and Pansy, who exited hand in hand. After a yawn and a stretch, Ron muttered something about needing to head to the Burrow the next day for Sunday lunch with his parents, and then he was off too. Hermione, Draco, Theo, Blaise, and Parvati were left to finish their drinks.

Once they’d settled the bill, the five left the pub together, stepping out into the cool night air. The streets were quiet, the usual bustle of the city muted at this late hour. Draco, Theo, and Blaise walked ahead, their voices a low murmur of conversation. Hermione and Parvati followed behind, and Hermione reflected once again on how much things had changed.

Parvati had matured in ways Hermione hadn’t fully appreciated until they’d reconnected through Blaise. She was still as lively as ever, but there was a depth to her now, a groundedness that made Hermione like her more than she ever had when they were younger. It seemed a common theme with the Slytherins she found herself closer to these days: people who had changed, who had grown, and who had found ways to surprise her.

They turned a corner and walked past a small shop, its windows lit up with the warm glow of neon signs advertising greasy Mexican dishes and sweet treats. The scent of fried dough and cinnamon wafted out, and Draco, without missing a beat, beelined for the shop. Hermione watched, amused, as he exchanged a few quick words in Spanish with the vendor, who smiled and handed him a newspaper cone filled with cinnamon-sugar-dusted pastries.

Draco returned to the group, the scent of the freshly fried treats making Hermione’s mouth water. “Churros,” he announced, holding up the cone as if he’d just won a prize.

“Did you just speak Spanish?” Parvati asked, clearly impressed.

Draco grinned at Parvati, clearly pleased with himself. “I picked up a bit while abroad,” he said, popping a churro into his mouth.

Hermione reached out, hoping to snag one, but Draco pulled the cone away. “Oh, no,” he said with a smirk. “These are all mine.”

Theo, however, was quicker. He darted forward from behind, snatching a churro from the cone with a triumphant grin. “Too slow, mate,” he said, laughing as Draco shot him a mock glare.

He finally offered Hermione the cone, though with exaggerated reluctance. She took one, biting into the crispy, sugary treat with gusto.

The group continued walking, the natural camaraderie among them filling Hermione with a sense of contentment. As they reached the Apparition point, Theo, Blaise, and Parvati said their goodbyes, leaving Hermione and Draco alone under the soft glow of a street lamp. He walked over to a bin, tossing the crumpled newspaper cone away before brushing off the lingering sugar from his hands.

“You know,” Hermione began, glancing up at Draco as he returned to her side, “you didn’t have to be so stingy with those churros.”

Draco chuckled, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. “I’m sure there will be plenty more opportunities to share, Granger.”

She snorted at the old nickname, feeling the comfortable ease that had grown between them. “I suppose you’re right,” she said, her voice softening. The night was cool, and the faint hum of the city around them made her feel like they were in their little world, apart from everything and everyone.

They looked at each other in silence for a moment, the tension between them almost palpable. She felt a warmth in her chest, a rush of emotion that she wasn’t quite ready to ignore anymore.

“I had a good time tonight,” she said, her voice quiet.

“So did I,” Draco replied, his tone matching hers.

They stood close enough that their arms brushed. Hermione hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Would you… would you like to come back to my place?” she asked, her heart pounding as she spoke.

Draco’s eyes searched hers, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, he smiled—her favourite rare, slow, warm smile that sent a thrill through her. “I’d love to.”

Hermione felt a rush of relief and excitement, and without another word, she took his hand. Together, they Apparated to her flat, the familiar sensation of being squeezed through a tube momentarily disorienting.

When they landed in her living room, the quietness of the space felt almost jarring after being out in the city. Hermione let go of Draco’s hand and turned to face him, suddenly feeling nervous, though she wasn’t sure why. This was Draco, someone she trusted, someone she cared about deeply. And yet, this was also a step they hadn’t taken before, a line they hadn’t crossed.

Draco seemed to sense her hesitation, and he stepped closer, his hands gently cupping her face. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low and sincere.

Hermione met his gaze, and any lingering doubts melted away. She nodded, her own hands finding their way to his chest. “I’m sure,” she whispered.

That was all it took. Draco closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was both tender and full of promise. Hermione sighed into it, tasting sweet cinnamon. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her closer, the warmth of his body against hers both comforting and electrifying.

They moved together, slowly heading to her bedroom without breaking the kiss. The anticipation building between them for months finally reached its peak, and Hermione felt a heady mix of desire and affection coursing through her.

When they finally reached the bed, Draco paused, gazing down at her with an intensity that made her breath hitch. “Hermione,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “you have no idea how much I want this. How much I want you.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and she reached up to kiss him again, pouring all her feelings into it. “I think I do,” she whispered, her fingers tangling in his hair. “I want you too, Draco. I have for a long time.”

With that, they finally let go of their reservations, giving in to the connection which had been growing between them for so long. 

The night lingered, filled with whispered confessions and shared touches, as they explored this new side of their relationship. It was a night neither one of them would ever forget.

Chapter Text

Sep 12, 2004.

Violent Raid on Draco Malfoy’s Townhouse Shocks Quiet Neighbourhood

Turmoil in London’s Prestigious Area as High-Profile Residence is Targeted

Percival Wainwright, Investigative Reporter for The Daily Prophet

In a dramatic and unsettling turn of events, the tranquil neighbourhood of Highgate in London has been thrust into the spotlight following a brazen raid on Draco Malfoy’s townhouse in the early hours of this morning. Known for its elegant Victorian architecture and upscale residences, Highgate’s usually peaceful atmosphere has been shattered by this audacious attack.

The townhouse, nestled among Highgate’s picturesque rows of period properties, was the target of a violent intrusion. While extensive damage has been reported, it is significant to note that Draco Malfoy was not present at the time of the break-in. Sources indicate that the attack was discovered at the moment, prompting Malfoy to respond with immediate urgency.

Within minutes of learning about the raid, Malfoy, visibly furious and accompanied by Hermione Granger, stormed into the Ministry of Magic. They were met by a concerned Theodore Nott and two escorting officers, before being hurriedly ushered into the office of Head Auror, Gawain Robards, with Auror Harry Potter. The scene was charged with tension, as whispers of heated discussions and the high-profile nature of the meeting spread through the Ministry.

Aidan Blackwell, a member of the radical group known as the "Sovereign Rights Coalition," was arrested at the scene in connection with the raid. The Sovereign Rights Coalition, notorious for its sporadic, extreme and disruptive tactics aimed at magical and Muggle integration, has long been under scrutiny by the Ministry. Blackwell's arrest stems from his apparent personal grievance against Malfoy, adding a layer of complexity to the group’s already controversial reputation. The investigation has been sealed for the public and we have yet to find out how many other suspects were involved.

The impact of the raid extends beyond the magical community. Highgate’s local Muggles are left anxious and unsettled, their once-quiet streets now heightened with security and concern. The community’s response has been one of alarm, as residents grapple with the implications of such a breach in their normally serene environment.

As the investigation into the attack continues, the Ministry faces mounting pressure to address the situation and restore a sense of normalcy. The public eagerly awaits further updates on the unfolding drama and its implications for both Draco Malfoy and the broader community.

We’ll remain alert for more details as this story develops and the consequences of today’s events become clearer.

Hours before

The clock struck two in the morning. The remnants of a decadent meal lay scattered across the coffee table: a half-empty bottle of wine, a few lingering bites of rich chocolate tart, and the soft glow of candles casting flickering shadows across Hermione’s living room. The night had been perfect. They’d spent hours talking, laughing, kissing and indulging in each other’s company, the tension of the outside world forgotten in the warm cocoon of their shared evening.

Hermione was curled against Draco on the sofa, their bodies pressed close in the comfortable haze of good food, fine wine, and the late hour. His hand rested on her thigh, fingers lazily tracing circles on the soft, silky material of the robe she’d thrown on earlier, the touch growing bolder as the night wore on. Draco, in his black trousers and white shirt, still felt the cool fabric of his clothes against his skin, though the shirt had become wrinkled and unbuttoned sometime during the evening. Hermione tilted her head back to look at him, her eyes dark with the same hunger that had been simmering between them all night.

“Is this what you had in mind when you said you wanted a quiet night in?” she teased, with a husky tone.

Draco smirked, his eyes locked onto hers, the air thick with anticipation. “I’m not hearing any complaints,” he murmured, leaning in to capture her lips in a heated kiss.

The kiss deepened quickly, their earlier playfulness giving way to something more urgent, more demanding. Hands roamed freely, his shirt and her robe rolled off their shoulders. She hastily freed him from his open fly and he tugged the gusset of her knickers to one side, all pretences gone. Before long, she sat astride him, rubbing her bare centre on his generous erection. Being partially undressed felt raw and intense, creating a perfect culmination of the tension that had been simmering between them for the past week, ever since their relationship had shifted from stolen moments to something much deeper.

She alternated between soft, quick, barely touching, and long, deliberate drags from base to tip, leveraging herself on his strong shoulders. 

“Tell me this isn’t just a fling for you,” Hermione whispered between gasps, her nails digging into his back as she moved above him, teasing them both.

Draco stilled his kisses on her neck, his breath hot against her ear. “It’s not,” he rasped, his voice rough with emotion. “You know it’s not.”

Her words echoed in his mind, grounding him in the moment. They had been dancing around this for so long, and now that it was out in the open, it felt both exhilarating and terrifying. But before he could say anything more, a sudden, sharp jolt ran through him, like ice water down his spine.

He pulled back abruptly, his eyes narrowing in concentration. Hermione frowned, still trying to catch her breath. “What is it?”

“The wards,” Draco muttered, already pushing her off. “Something’s wrong with my wards.”

It took a moment for the feeling to sink in, and when it did, a cold dread settled in his stomach. Draco’s house was under attack.

“I have to go,” he said. His voice was edged with fury as he buttoned his trousers and shirt, then grabbed his wand from the coffee table, all traces of their earlier intimacy gone instantly.

“No, Draco, wait,” Hermione said, her voice sharp as she scrambled to her feet, wrapping her robe around her. “You can’t just barge in there without knowing what’s going on. You’ll get yourself killed.”

Hermione moved to block his path. His heart pounded in his chest, his emotions a volatile mix of anger and fear. She grabbed his arms, her grip firm, somehow knowing he wouldn’t Apparate dragging her along. 

“Someone broke into my house, Hermione. They’re there right now.”

“Stop,” she said firmly. “If they went at this hour they probably expected you to be there asleep. Or…maybe they knew you weren’t, and it’s a trap. They’re not thieves. They went to harm you.”

Her words only stoked the fire burning in his chest. “Let me go,” he demanded, his voice a low growl.

“No,” she said stubbornly, her voice shaky but resolute.

He tried to rip her hands away, but she held on like a vice. “Hermione.”

“No!” The desperation in her voice stopped him cold. He looked down at her, seeing the fear in her eyes. “I’m not going to let you go!”

He hated whoever was putting them through this. Truthfully, he didn’t know what he would do if he Apparated to his house, what or whom he would find. But he felt himself dissociate to some degree, imagining a very violent scene where he could channel all the negative emotions roiling inside him. Dismantling his wards wasn’t a quick feat. Whoever did it, went in to do real damage.

“Draco, please.” She tried to reason with him. “Let me get dressed. You’re not going alone. Let me call for help first. Please.”

Draco hesitated, the rage simmering just beneath the surface. But Hermione held his gaze, refusing to back down. After a tense moment, he gave a curt nod, his hands trembling slightly with the effort to hold back.

Hermione quickly conjured her Patronus, sending the silver otter to alert the Ministry Aurors. She turned back to Draco, who was pacing like a caged animal, his frustration palpable.

“It’s done,” she said, her voice now firm. “We should go to the Ministry and wait to be informed.”

Draco didn’t respond, but his thoughts were stormy. He hated feeling helpless and relying on others, especially when his home, his sanctuary, was threatened.

“I need to get dressed and you need to put shoes on,” she said sternly. “Do you promise no Apparating if I leave you alone for two minutes?”

“Yes.”

“I’m deadly serious, Draco,” she said, eyes searching his. “I can dress with one hand if I have to.”

“Just go,” he barked, impatient.

Warily, she loosened her hold on him and summoned clothes from the bedroom, quickly pulling on jeans and a jumper. Draco was already ahead of her, slipping on his socks and shoes, his movements tense and focused, ready to leave as soon as she was dressed. 

At that moment, a silver stag burst into the room, Harry’s voice echoing in the small space. “Draco, it’s your house. I’m sending Aurors to secure it. Where are you?”

Hermione glanced at Draco, who felt more angry by the second. Before she could respond, another Patronus (a large bear) appeared, this time with Theo’s voice. “Harry’s been trying to reach you, Draco. What’s going on?”

Draco swore under his breath, but Hermione was already sending her Patronus back to Theo. “I’m with Draco. Don’t go to his place; there’s been an attack. We’re going to the Ministry now.”

Draco ran a hand through his hair while trying to keep his temper in check. “So now they'll know.”

“Yes, and that’s a good thing,” Hermione said placing her soft hands on his cheeks, trying to soothe him. “They’re just worried.”

Draco gritted his teeth, but nodded, pulling her close for a brief, fierce kiss. “Let’s go already,” he said, his voice steely with determination.

They Flooed directly to the Ministry, finding the cold, vast Atrium a stark contrast to the cosy warmth they had just left behind. Theo was already there with two Aurors, looking anxious and slightly out of breath. He glanced between them, quickly assessing the situation. He seemed to scan Draco to make sure he wasn’t injured.

“You okay? Did they hurt you?”

Draco was still seething. “I wasn’t there, I’m fine.”

“Auror Potter is expecting you, Mr Malfoy,” said one of the Aurors before escorting them to the lifts.

“Sorry for the confusion,” Hermione said to Theo, keeping her voice low. Nobody else was around at that hour, so her voice seemed to carry farther than it should. “It all happened so fast.”

Theo shook his head. “No need to apologise, darling. Let’s just figure out what the hell’s going on.”

The five stood close together in the lift quietly. Theo glanced at Draco, then at Hermione, with a look that suggested he was piecing things together. He gently clapped Draco on the shoulder, rubbed it and squeezed, offering silent reassurance. Draco appreciated the gesture more than he let on until his friend started talking.

“Who do you think it was?” Theo asked quietly.

“Someone with a death wish,” Draco muttered, his tone hard.

His friend pressed.“What about that weird guy?”

“Theo,” Draco growled, a warning edge to his voice.

“Who?” Hermione interjected, her brow furrowing.

“There’s this barely organised group of ragtags—“ Theo began.

“Theo, I swear, shut the fuck up,” Draco snapped, his patience wearing thin.

Hermione’s concern was mounting. “What? Did they threaten you?”

“Well, you see—” Theo started again, but was cut off.

“Level Two: Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” the disembodied voice announced.

As the lift doors opened, they all stepped out into a corridor lined with doors on both sides. Draco kept blocking Theo from divulging more as they walked, his frustration growing.

“Listen,” Theo continued, undeterred, “if you’re finally going to start dating her, you need to trust her judgment, even if you don’t think a stupid sod talking veiled threats is important. If something were to happen, I’d rather have Hermione Granger defend me over twenty of these guys.” He nodded toward the two Aurors, who exchanged glances, looking slightly exasperated. “No offence, you seem nice.”

Draco sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. He stopped and pulled Hermione aside, letting Theo and the Aurors continue ahead. Hermione’s expression shifted from concern to irritation as she waited for an explanation.

“What is going on?” she demanded.

“Someone showed up at Theo’s shop one day when I was there, like a month ago,” Draco explained, his voice tight. “He said mostly nonsense, nothing to worry about, okay?”

“Nothing to worr— They broke into your house tonight!” Hermione retorted, her voice rising in disbelief.

“It was probably my fault for setting up insufficient wards,” Draco admitted, running a hand through his hair, his tone dismissive. “I underestimated the fact that it was a Muggle neighbourhood.” He paused, then—noticing her frustration—added, “Harry knew, okay?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hermione’s voice was tinged with hurt.

“I’m—” Draco hesitated, his sigh of frustration giving way to vulnerability. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to scare you away.”

“Scare me?” Hermione’s indignation flared. “I want to fight these arseholes and anyone who threatens you!”

Draco finally allowed himself a small smile, moved by her fierce loyalty. He cupped her face and kissed her softly, grateful for her support and feeling a rush of affection. At that moment, he saw just how much she cared, her anger directed at those who threatened him rather than at him.

“I’ll set up better protections… perform some blood magic if I have to,” he promised, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes.

“I’ll request a security detail from Kingsley myself,” Hermione declared.

“I don’t need their security,” Draco argued, his voice low but determined. “My life is mine. I’m not going to have it dictated by some goons trying to test my limits.”

“We’ll have to go public, too,” Hermione said, her tone brokering no argument. “Everyone will know: if they mess with you, they’re messing with me.”

Draco hesitated, the thought of going public while facing an active threat made him uneasy. But seeing the determination in Hermione’s eyes, he was grateful she was on his side. “We’ll discuss that later,” he said, guiding her through the long corridor and around the corner.

Once they reached the Aurors Headquarters, behind a heavy set of oak doors, they were met by Harry. He was in full Auror mode, barking orders to the team. He paused when he saw them, his eyes briefly meeting Hermione’s before he turned to Draco.

“We’ve got men on the ground,” Harry said, his tone professional but laced with concern. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Draco maintained a stoic expression as he watched Harry take command, and he felt a complex mix of relief and helplessness. Seeing the situation being handled reassured him, though it also reminded him of how little control he had. He simply nodded before glancing at Hermione, her face focused. She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently, offering silent support that helped steady his nerves.

It wasn’t long before they were informed of an arrest at the scene. Draco took a steadying breath, preparing himself for whatever came next. Without thinking, he pulled Hermione into a tight hug, needing the comfort of her presence. She responded immediately, holding him just as fiercely, whoever was watching be damned. This was far from over, but at least he was facing it with her.

Chapter Text

Dec 30, 2004.

EXCLUSIVE: The Death of a Bachelor

Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger Go Public

Parvati Patil, Whims and Wonder, a Witch Weekly Column

I’ve got the scoop of the year, darlings! The wizarding world’s hottest secret is finally out. Brace yourselves for the ultimate New Year’s Eve reveal: the ever-dashing Draco Malfoy and our brilliant Golden Girl Hermione Granger are officially an item! Yes, the rumours have been swirling like wild Bludgers, and I’ve known for a while now (lucky me!), but I had to keep mum until the pair decided to make their big reveal.

And what a reveal it’s going to be! The couple has chosen none other than the upcoming New Year’s Eve gala—the most magical event of the year—to step out together for the first time as an official couple. Talk about ringing in the new year with a bang! The event is expected to be swarming with security, as the pair’s relationship will surely set tongues wagging and camera flashes blinding.

Rumours have been running rampant through our magical community for months. There were whispers of stolen glances at Ministry meetings, late-night rendezvous in the most unexpected places, and that undeniable attraction that you just can’t ignore. Remember “Malfoy’s Mystery Person”? Yes, this Love Potion has been brewing for a while. But now, it’s all out in the open. And trust me when I say that Draco and Hermione make one scorching hot couple. 

I’ve had the privilege of mingling with these two lovebirds, and I must admit, keeping their sizzling romance under wraps has been a compelling challenge. When Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are together, their connection is so fiery it’s practically palpable. Let’s just say, witnessing their private moments is like watching a high-voltage spell in action. I’m honoured to share with the rest of the world what I’ve seen firsthand: these two are a perfect match and their blazing chemistry is about to set the world alight. Buckle up, because this couple’s about to turn up the heat in a way that only true magic can.

Draco, with his smouldering good looks and that dangerously charming smile, paired with Hermione’s razor-sharp intellect and undeniable natural beauty, are set to become the hottest couple in the wizarding world. And as they step out together at the gala, arm in arm, you can bet that every eye in the room will be on them. Unfortunately, tickets have already sold out, so if you’re not there in person tomorrow, you’ll wish you were.

So, wave goodbye to Draco’s days as the wizarding world’s most eligible bachelor, because this Slytherin heartthrob is officially off the market. Prepare yourselves, my lovelies. This New Year’s Eve gala will become a magical soirée to remember!

January 1, 2005

Hermione woke up alone late Saturday morning with the sun filtering through the spacious bedroom curtains. She stretched lazily, feeling the luxurious softness beneath her. Draco’s bed was incredibly comfortable and it was tempting to just sink back into the pillows. But the enticing aroma wafting up from downstairs pulled her out of bed.

As she swung her legs over the side, her eyes caught sight of her dress from the night before, draped carelessly over the back of a nearby chair. The delicate fabric, so elegant and composed during the gala, was now tangled and crumpled from where Draco had slipped it off her hours before, undoing its careful grace in favour of something far more intense in the heat of the moment. She couldn’t forget his fingers fumbling with the intricate laces, their shared laughter at the frustration dissolving into something deeper, more urgent. The memory elicited a flush to her cheeks, but before she could linger too long, the smell beckoned her downstairs.

She padded to the ensuite bathroom to wash up, quickly tying her hair into a lazy bun. She glanced at herself in the mirror, noting the relaxed expression on her face. Being in Draco’s home, including its reinforced wards and added security, made her feel utterly at ease. Despite his previous night’s fervourous response to her look, she usually didn’t feel the need to dress up or put on a show for him. Draco had seen her in all states—exhausted after a long day, dressed down in loungewear—and he never made her feel anything less than beautiful.

As she descended the stairs, the sweet smell of freshly baked pastries became stronger, mingling with the rich scent of coffee. When she reached the kitchen, the sight that greeted her made her heart skip a beat. Draco was sitting at the table, leaning back casually, with a cup of coffee in one hand and Witch Weekly in the other. The morning sun cast a golden halo around him, highlighting the sharp lines on his face and the way his hair fell just right. She paused for a moment, simply taking him in. He was, without a doubt, incredibly handsome. And he was all hers.

In front of him, a second cup of coffee and a plate of warm scones with strawberry jam and clotted cream were waiting for her. But instead of going straight for the food, Hermione walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.

Draco cleared his throat with a hint of amusement. “Draco, with his smouldering good looks and that dangerously charming smile— ” he read aloud in a mock-dreamy voice, quoting Parvati’s article.

“Smouldering?” Hermione giggled, feeling a warm blush spread across her cheeks. “She went overboard.”

Draco set down his coffee, turning his head slightly to kiss the arm she’d draped around him. “You were right, by the way.”

“Hmm?” she murmured against his skin, continuing to pepper soft kisses along his neck.

“Patil stuck to what we suggested,” Draco explained, his voice carrying a note of satisfaction. “I’m sure she wanted to disclose a lot more.”

Hermione straightened up slightly, her fingers gently brushing back his unruly hair. “I think Blaise might have had something to do with it.”

“Ah,” Draco said thoughtfully, tossing the magazine aside. “Well, either way, you were right.”

“Always am,” she replied cheekily, moving around to face him before settling on his lap. “Remember that.”

Draco’s arm wrapped securely around her waist, his other hand resting on her bare thigh as he finally captured her lips in a slow, lingering kiss. Hermione hummed, tasting the rich coffee on his tongue, reminding her of the steaming cup waiting for her. With a playful peck on his cheek, she reached for it and the scones.

“Did you sleep well?” Draco asked, gently rubbing her waist in slow, soothing circles.

“Are you joking?” Hermione nearly choked on her coffee, laughing. “That bed,” she pointed towards the door, “is dangerous.”

Draco chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She nodded emphatically, her mouth full of a jam-slathered scone. The rich, buttery flavour made her moan in appreciation, and she closed her eyes to savour it. Draco had an incredible talent in the kitchen, something she found both charming and utterly delightful.

“With those noises you’re making,” Draco said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he brushed her curls aside and kissed the back of her neck, “I’ll take you to bed right now and not let you out.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Hermione agreed with a mischievous grin, “but let me finish, first.”

“You’re going to finish first alright,” Draco murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. His hand tightened slightly on her waist, and Hermione could feel those pesky butterflies fluttering in her stomach again.

She loved it when he talked like that; his voice gravelly and suggestive affected her in ways that made her feel giddy and wanted, and she could only giggle in excitement. As she nibbled on her scone, she knew she was ready to spend the entire weekend wrapped up in this man’s arms, without the pressures of work or the interruptions of daily life. It was just them, and that was all she wanted.

FIN