Pages of Redemption - ForeverAReader_SometimesAWriter

Chapter 1 Chapter Text

September 1998

“Mr Malfoy you are a lucky young man. It appears the Ministry wishes to move forward into this ‘new era’ by taking a different stance on offenders, in particular those of the younger generation. Instead of the five years in Azkaban that we were expecting for you, they have offered you a new kind of sentence.”

“What kind of sentence?” asks Narcissa, her eyes locked on Draco, still cuffed to the table in the centre of the room.

“Well, it’s a conditional sentence. He’s to complete 12 months of house arrest, with his magic restricted. During this time, he is to communicate with a court appointed liaison who will guide him with overcoming his prejudices of half bloods and muggle borns. A rehabilitation of sorts. After the first 6 months, this liaison will accompany him on set days outs to learn about the muggle world for field trips and the like.”

Addressing Draco directly, the solicitor continues.

“At the end of this period, the liaison will hold the power of your release. If you have followed the program, you will be free.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You will then be sent to Azkaban to finish the standard sentence.”

“Do we know who the liaison will be?” enquires Narcissa.

“They will be appointed in the next few days. Their identity will be kept hidden during the initial 6 months, giving you time to take on the board the guidance without any preconceived notions of them getting in the way. The Ministry is hopeful that by the time the two of you will meet, that you will be of a better understanding & tolerance of one another.”

“If I don’t know who they are, how am I meant to communicate with them,” Draco asks.

“Charmed two way notebook.”

“So, does Draco need to stay here until the liaison is chosen, or is he free to return home with me today?”

“He can return home today but under the escort of an Auror, they should be here shortly.”

Having spent the last 4 months on what barely passed as a bed in his holding cell at Azkaban, Draco was beyond thrilled to return to his own king sized bed. He’d stood in his shower for almost an hour trying to scrub off the grime and memories of his stay, and fell into the luxurious softness of his high thread count sheets. He’d slept on and off for days, Mippy leaving drinks and meals under stasis until he would wake to consume them, before falling back asleep.

He’d woken on the third morning, finally feeling more like himself. Dressed in one of his favourite pairs of well tailored black trousers with matching shirt, he stood looking out of the floor length window whilst securing his tie. He was interrupted from watching his mother tend to her roses, by the subtle ding that came from the corner of his room. As he approached his desk, he could see the first message from his liaison.

Good Morning

He waited to see if anything else would appear, puzzled at the brief message. He’d very much been expecting a more formal introduction, a ‘Dear Mr Malfoy. This is what you are expected to do…’ Definitely not a simple ‘Good Morning’. He wondered what they were playing at, were they trying to catch him off guard, lure him in under the guise of a friendly greeting. Or were they simply being nice with no agenda. He needed to think, and to think he needed coffee. And breakfast. Then perhaps a quiet stroll round the garden.

When he returned to his room in the afternoon, there had been another message.

Good Afternoon

Without knowing when exactly the message had come through, he wasn’t sure how long the person at the other end had waited yet again for his reply. He briefly pondered if there was a way to alert himself to the message other than the little noise it emitted. The manor was exceptionally large and the sound was clearly very easily drowned out by the vast space surrounding it. Perhaps if it was louder, or if he could have his signet ring charmed, but then would he want to be disturbed by it if he was sleeping. No, he’d simply set times to check it throughout the day.

He held off responding, he’d spent all morning preparing to answer the first message, but a further message of a similar ilk had thrown him. They didn’t appear to be upset about a lack of response, but still not asking anything of him either. His thoughts kept going to why? Who would be so seemingly patient and polite with him of all people. He’d gathered from his solicitor that it would be a half blood, or perhaps even a muggle born communicating with him. He needed more time to think. He left the notebook on his desk and headed for his office. It had belonged to his father but given he was now serving a life sentence in Azkaban, it had become his by default. The Ministry had him under many restrictions, however they had allowed him to take over the family’s business affairs, given that they employed a large number of witches and wizards and the last thing the Ministry needed was more people searching for jobs after the war.

Narcissa had called upon him for dinner, after which they sat in the library together, each with a book and a glass of Ogden's finest. Narcissa had her head buried in the latest gardening journal, whilst he’d opted for one of his favourite wizarding novels. He awoke to a dying fire and a sore neck. The clock showed it was just past midnight. He picked up his book that had fallen to the floor and headed upstairs to his room. He stripped off his clothes and fell straight into his bed, forgetting the notebook sitting on his desk, where another message had sat unanswered.

Good Evening

He sat staring at the notebook, last night’s message sitting there alone with no reply, when another message came through.

Good Morning Draco

There was still no hint of annoyance at his lack of response, just simply the addition to his name. He noticed that there was a kind of glow coming from the notebook that he’d not noticed yesterday morning. He continued to stare until further text appeared.

I’ve been tasked to advise you to expect your text books in the coming days, as in addition to completing your communications with me, you will also be required to complete no less than 5 N.E.W.TS achieving a grade E or above. You will be given supervised access once a week for where you will be able to practise the physical aspects of the subjects, but other than that the rest will be theoretical. Professor Slughorn, being both the head of Slytherin and the Potions teacher, has agreed to be your supervisor, I suspect you will hear from him soon.

Now, regarding this situation, I want you to know that I understand that you may be struggling with having to communicate with an unknown someone. Someone, who given your level of intelligence and perception, you've probably already figured out is not a pure blood. Someone you’ve previously seen as beneath you.

However, I feel the need to remind you that your freedom from Azkaban is dependent on you actually participating in this. I want to help you Draco, but you need to want to help yourself too.

So would you like to start this again?

The glow fades with the last of the message, he figures it’s been set as an indicator that the other person was still writing. He reads the message over a few times, and then once more for clarity. He was a little early in assuming this person wasn’t annoyed. He detected a hint of something about them, perhaps that they didn’t want to waste their time if he wasn’t invested, but at the same time they didn’t seem to want to give up at the first sign of a problem. They were definitely persistent. He was relieved to know that he was getting the chance to complete his newts, 12 months house arrest was a long time to sit and be idle, even if he did have the businesses to watch over. It would certainly give him something else to focus on. Old Sluggy maybe an issue, he knew he wasn’t one of his favourites having never been in the Slug Club, but maybe it was a case of Slytherins sticking together, helping another out. It should be interesting at least.

Picking up his quill and taking a deep breath, he finally decides to respond.

Yes.

Good Morning

He hesitates a moment, his hand still resting on the page. He quickly scribbles down a request before he has the chance to change his mind.

It feels strange to not address you by a name. I know I cannot know who you are but maybe you could give me some sort of name or alias I could use for when we communicate.

The reply is quick.

Do you really think it would help?

Yes.

Fine, call me Wilkins.

Chapter 2 Chapter Text

October 1998

They’d been swapping messages for a few weeks, just polite salutations more than anything. Draco had gotten into the habit of checking his notebook each morning, after lunch and before dinner, ensuring he always responded even if it was just the odd word. This particular lunch time though, the book went unchecked. It remained so until much later the following morning.

I’ve been meaning to ask how the studying is going and if you’ve heard from Professor Slughorn yet.

Don’t feel you have to tell me, if you want to keep it private you can.

It’s not mandatory or anything, I just thought we could perhaps discuss some of the subjects together if you like. As a way to break the ice.

Hmm, I thought we’d moved past you not responding to me.

Draco?

Draco, are you ok?

His head throbbed with the residue of his migraine, a lovely side effect from his Aunt’s overtly thorough occlumency training. It had come on yesterday morning whilst he sat concentrating on his charms essay. He recognised the symptoms straight away, blurred vision, nausea and an intense pain on the right side of his head. It was always the right side, the side that held his memories, the side Bellatrix had ruthlessly tawn through during her teachings.

Narcissa had marched him straight to bed, Mippy following with a pain potion and some dreamless sleep. She knew from experience that treating his migraines early was the key, the longer it went on without the right potions, the stronger it would take a hold.

He gingerly rose out of the bed and went about his morning routine. He was just on his way down for some breakfast when he suddenly remembered the notebook.

“sh*t!”

He saw the stream of messages and instantly grabbed his quill and scratched out a hurried reply.

Sorry Wilkins.

I suffer from migraines and had an attack late yesterday morning.

He didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

Oh, ok.

The page still held its glow, so Draco waited apprehensively for the rest of the message.

How are you feeling now?

It’s eased, but I still feel a bit foggy.

Ok, just let me know when you are up to messaging. We should really start working on the Ministry's objectives soon, but I appreciate you’re probably not up to it right now.

Instead of the usual quick disappearance of the glow, it flickered for a few moments first. He wondered if Wilkins was going to write more, but it appeared not. Perhaps they changed their mind.

Ok, will do.

Later that afternoon Draco decided to reach out. He’d realised today that it was always Wilkins that initiated the contact and that it was probably a poor show on him. Narcissa had reminded him that he needed to make a real effort, as she really didn’t want to see him end up in Azkaban like his father. He’d been thinking about the magic behind the notebook and had a few suggestions he thought he’d pose. He knew that they needed to go through the objectives, but if could sort out a few suggestions on the communications first it may help.

Can I talk to you about something?

Not waiting for a response, he continued.

It’s regarding this notebook and if it would be possible to make some tweaks. Perhaps to show the time the message is sent and whether or not it's seen by the other person. I was also wondering about the alert it makes when a message appears. Is there a way to alter that and maybe set time restrictions on when the alert comes through. For example not after a set time in the evening or before a time in the morning. I’m not sure what else you do during the day, but maybe there are times you’d also prefer for it to be quiet.

He didn’t expect a response straight away. He didn’t know enough about Wilkins to know what they did during the day. They could be a student too, the timeline would fit with messages he’d received so far. But the same could go for someone working. They had asked him about his studies though, so he was more inclined to think it was a student. He wasn’t sure if he asked directly if they’d be able to tell him, so he’d have to use his Slytherin cunning in how he approached finding out. He was still puzzled as to why they’d want to help him. He was hoping by the time they met up, he might have a better idea. He was also hoping it wasn’t someone he’d previously been a prick to, that could be awkward.

Err, yes we could make some changes. In fact I’ve already changed the alert charm on my end. I’ve set mine to ‘do not disturb’ after 11pm and before 6am and for when I am away from it I have a galleon that heats up in my pocket to let me know if a message has come through. I’ll look into the time part, but I’m not sure about knowing if it’s been read or not. If this is something you know how to do, please say, I’m open to suggestions.

Unfortunately with your restrictions though you won’t be able to make the changes yourself until you meet with Slughorn.

Unless…

Unless?

…how is your mother with charms? The alert charm is a bit fiddly, but I’m happy to owl her the instructions.

She’s always excelled at charms, so I’m sure she’d manage.

Alright, I’ll send them over shortly. I’ll also include details on how to work around it only accepting your handwriting, so that should you be unwell again, she could let me know.

If you’re feeling up to it, shall we set a time to go through the objectives tomorrow. I have most of the day free until the early evening.

Would 11 suit? I will need to take another round of potions this evening and they can leave me quite groggy first thing.

11 is fine. Tell your mother to look out for my owl.

I will

Thank you.

The tea was amazing, it really helped.

Where did you find the recipe?

Oh, I’m glad. I wasn’t sure if it would work for you like it does me.

It’s actually one of my own blends, it's taken a little while to master but for me it is a game changer.

You can say that again, I didn’t need to take so many potions last night. Which also means less brain fog this morning.

So, do you suffer from migraines too?

Not migraines exactly, just some pretty intense headaches.

Have you had them long?

Summer before my sixth year. Aunt Bella’s training. Side effects from the war.

You?

Not as long as you, around 6 months, but erm, side effects of the war too I suppose.

Are you ready to start?

Ready as I’ll ever be Wilkins.

The messages continued throughout the day. Wilkins explained what kind of activities they’d be doing once they met up and what things were expected of him now. Some were relatively simple. Introducing him to muggle literature, customs and holidays, professions and how school subjects differed. Teaching him about technology would be a little harder, but doable.

It would be harder, but essential, to discuss his own customs and how he was brought up. Wilkins had explained to him that the easiest way for them to help him move forward was to truly understand where he was coming from.

And hardest of all they were to discuss the war. Draco had protested at this, stating he went through it all at his trial. His actions were fully listed in his file, which he fully presumed they’d have access to. Why did they need to go over it again?

But it wasn’t the actions they needed to talk about. It was the emotions, the conflict, the necessity driving him during that time, all of which he’d long occluded away. He could feel the stirrings of another migraine, so he bid Wilkins good night, with the promise of starting simply by discussing literature in the morning.

Do you enjoy reading? I’ve heard about the splendour and size of your library, it must be amazing to have so many books at your disposal.

Very much so, the library is my favourite room of the Manor.

I’d like to make some recommendations for muggle books for you, but I need to know more about what you read now so I can tailor the list to what I think you’d enjoy more.

I like to read all kinds of books depending on my mood. More recently, thanks to a particular house guest, I found myself selecting more and more novels where I could lose myself in another world, even if it was momentarily. I enjoy biographical works and learning about historical figures. I’ve read all our quidditch books, instructional, statistical you name it, I’ve read it. Potions also interest me too, the how and why certain ingredients work together fascinates me. What about you, do you have any preferences?

I love to read all kinds of books, both muggle and magical. I find no better comfort than sitting curled up with a book to read.I understand what you mean about losing yourself in another world. When I was younger I’d visit the local library and spend hours sitting reading about fairy tales and magic, I was captivated. Imagine my surprise at learning some of it was real. And then to discover a whole other fantastical world in wizarding fiction. It’s seems we share quite a few reading preferences, well with the exception of quidditch. I’ll have to do some research on which muggle sports may interest you, as I’m sorry to say I generally don’t follow any. There are several biographies I can recommend and something tells me you’d enjoy chemistry too.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I assume there are no muggle books in your library.

You’re not entirely wrong.

The library is almost a thousand years old. And back before the statute of secrecy, my family did actually frequent with muggles. There’s not really anything that past that date though.

Have you ready any of them?

Ashamedly, up until last night no. My father warded that section of the library, whilst he was in control of the manor and only he had access to them. He only kept the books for their monetary value, they’re all first editions I believe. Since his imprisonment all the wards have been passed to me and given we were to start with literature, I thought I’d take a look.

What did you pick?

I very much doubt that you’d know it, it’s over 350 years old.

Try me.

Ok.

Comedies, Histories and Tragedies

Shakespeare, you have Shakespeare in your library!

It would appear so. There’s quite a few versions, 4 I think. Who is this Shakespeare guy?

Only one of the greatest English writers of all time.

Hold on, you have 4 versions? There’s been 4 folios printed, the third is incredibly rare, no wonder your father kept hold of them.

So, I take it from your response, you’ve read his works?

Yes, multiple times. My parents met during college, they’d both signed up to take part in A Winter’s Tale. They shared a love of Shakespeare, that play in particular, and I suppose it passed down to me too.

Do you think that maybe you’d show me the folios some time? Once this is all over that is.

I think we can arrange that.

The next few weeks had passed by pretty quickly for Draco. Him and Wilkins had developed a healthy back and forth discussing the never ending list of book recommendations. Books that his mother hadn’t been able to order in, Wilkins had been kind enough to send to him. He had to admit, he was thoroughly enjoying the books and the conversation. Wilkins could certainly hold their own, and was definitely opinionated. He found he’d begun to look forward to their chats. He still wasn’t looking forward to discussing the war however.

He’d met with Professor Slughorn earlier in the day, which hadn’t turned out as bad as he’d thought. He’d practised a few potions, before moving on to charms and transfigurations. He’d not told Wilkins, but he’d been researching charms for the notebook and come up with something that may work to let the other know if the message had been read. He’d approached the professor about extending his session by half an hour to try it out, and thankfully he’d seemed impressed enough with his research to let him give it a go. That evening he was eager to test it out.

Hey Wilkins. How was your day?

He sat waiting with the page open and sure enough, the ink changed colour, a beautiful emerald green.

Hello.

Wait, why did your message just turn green?

Surprise! I’ve been researching some charms and Slughorn agreed to let me try it after my session with him today. It’s to let us know if the other person has read their message.

How?

It’s pretty basic, but I took the do not disturb charm as a basis. It works between the hours that the charm can alert and will detect if the page is open to that of the latest message. Not perfect I know, but I assumed that you don’t leave the book lying about open if you’re not with it, so I further assumed that if it was opened meant you’d purposely done so in order to read the message. The message changes colour once read.

Safe assumptions, it’s a great idea. Just one question, why green?

You really need to ask Wilkins?

Seriously, you picked your house colour. What a cliche. Is that even your favourite colour?

Actually, no. It’s blue. Am I allowed to ask yours, or will it give away precious clues to your identity?

It had become somewhat of a joke between the two about the real identity of Wilkins. Draco was forever trying to catch them out trying to reveal bits of information, but Wilkins was sneaky, never letting anything slip. If he hadn’t figured out already that they were muggle born, he would’ve assumed he was talking to a Slytherin.

I don’t think so, as not many people have ever asked the question to know the answer.

Mine is also blue.

Then I’ll change it to blue the next time I’m allowed access to my wand.

Or you could tell me the charm.

Hmm, I could, but where’s the fun in that.

So you’re telling me that muggles dress their children up like witches, wizards, werewolves and so on, for them to knock on doors for sweets! Really?

Yes, really. I remember the year I turned 7 dressing up in a robe and pointy hat, brandishing an old broom, knocking on my neighbours doors and coming home with a mountain of different sweets. Of course I wasn’t allowed to eat many of them.

Why, in Merlins name, not? That seems rather pointless.

My parents were d

It was just because of who they were. And that sugar isn’t good for your teeth, well in the muggle world that is. It’s not so much a worry in the wizarding world with teeth cleansing charms being so effective. They didn’t want me to feel left out from the other kids on my street though, so I was allowed to join in, just not allowed to enjoy the treats.

Hmm, do I detect you almost let something slip there Wilkins. We’ll come back to that later, for now I wish to offer you my sincerest condolences on not getting to eat the sweets. I don’t think I would’ve coped having had them taken away. I’ve got such a terrible sweet tooth. Thankfully my mother would always indulge me at Honeydukes. Are muggles sweets any different to wizarding ones?

Most definitely. I’ve never quite gotten used to wizarding chocolate, it’s just not the same for me. Muggle sweets though seem almost boring in comparison, but I enjoy the simplicity. I don’t always want to risk a random flavour when wanting something sweet or for my chocolate to jump away from me!

When I first visited Honeydukes, I was reminded of a book I read growing up called Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. It too had all these marvellous confectionaries.

Chapter 3 Chapter Text

November 1998

I enjoyed the book Wilkins and before you say it, yes I saw the similarities between me and Veruca. But I have to say, after all those sweets you sent me, I kind of feel more like Augustus!

Did you have a favourite? I’m rather partial to mint chocolate bars.

Hmm, I’d have to go with any of the chocolates. You were right, the chocolate is better.

Most of the month continued on in much the same way as the weeks before it. Wilkins would start the conversation asking what Draco knew of this or that in the muggle world and built on his knowledge or in the majority of most cases completely corrected it. He was surprised at how doctors differed from healers, and how many more specialties there were. He marvelled about all the travel options and was looking forward to experiencing some for himself on their field trips. Draco had tried asking about sport, but Wilkins had brushed him off saying it would be easier to show him than having them explain it.

The more and more they spoke the more Draco became almost enamoured by the muggle world. A world that he was told was different to his own, primitive and backwards. A complete contrast to what Wilkins had opened his eyes too.

It was towards the end of the month that Wilkins had blindsided him. They’d been getting on so well, he’d almost felt like they’d were just friends chatting back and forth, almost forgetting that there was a purpose to these messages.

Sorry Draco, I’ve held off for as long as I could but we need to discuss the war. It doesn’t have to be much, but it’s time.

I’m very much hoping that I’m not wrong here, but I believe based on our conversations that you are starting to change your views on blood supremacy. That you can see that we are all just witches and wizards, that how we’ve come about our magic doesn’t matter, that we are equal. And hopefully that you’re also moving past your discern for muggles too.

I know you may feel you aren’t ready to talk to me about it, that's fine. I have an alternative task for you. I’d like you to write a letter to someone, a half blood or muggle born that you hurt, either physically or emotionally. Choose somebody that you feel you can genuinely apologise to, and do it.

I won’t be checking that you’ve done it. I’ve chosen to have faith in you Draco. I’ve had it all along, it was why I was chosen over others to help you. I have faith you’ll do the right thing here.

Why?

Why what?

Why do you have faith in me? I’ve gathered your muggle born, I’ve probably been awful to you at least once. Why, I don’t get it. It’s been driving me mad since your first message.

I won’t lie, yes I’ve been on the receiving end of some pretty hideous Draco Malfoy bullsh*t over the years. But I’ve also seen how you are with your friends, how you care for them, laugh with them, support them.

Do I think you’re evil? Once upon a time, I may have said yes, but now, no.

Misguided? Yes.

Pigheaded? Yes

A product of your environment? Yes, definitely.

I know many will argue that you could have stood up to your parents, not taken the mark, not attempted to kill Dumbledore. But you lowered your wand Draco. You lowered your wand even though you feared for your and your parents lives.

I just felt if you knew more and understood that it might wake you up to the heinous diatribe you’d been raised on.

I’ll leave you to think about it.

I’m afraid my son will be indisposed today. After spending most of the day sitting at his desk muttering multiple expletives and throwing balled up parchments aggressively across the room, he proceeded to drink what appears to be at least an entire bottle of Ogdens if the bottles I found at his feet are anything to go by. He is very ungraciously refusing a hangover draft, so I’ve seen it best to just let him wallow in it.

The following week passed much in the same way. Draco would wake late in the morning hungover and emotionally worse for wear, lock himself in his office and continue to attempt to write an apology letter. From the moment Wilkins set him the task, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop at just one letter. How do you pick who deserves one more? But he was struggling to find the right words to even write one.

Wilkins had left him alone. His mother had informed him that she received an owl in response to her message, simply stating their thanks for letting them know and to tell him they’d give him some time. He was welcome to reach out, but they wouldn’t be bothering him until he was ready.

I can’t do it, everything I put down on the parchment just comes out wrong. How do I even begin?

The response was instant, almost as if they’d been waiting for him.

It doesn’t have to be perfect, just honest. That’s all it needs to be Draco.

Honest, ok I’l try.

December 1998

After their last communication, Draco had taken several hangover drafts, cleared his mind and was finally able to start the letters. He spent days writing letter after letter, apologising for his behaviour, his actions, his prejudice. Apology after apology, all brutally honest. Not a single one asking for forgiveness. As much as he would like it, he realised it wasn’t about that. It was about what each of them deserved from him.

He’d not spoken with Wilkins for another week, as having finally finished the letters, he’d needed to catch up on his studies in preparation for his upcoming meeting with Slughorn. He’d found himself looking forward to the meetings, not just so he could use his magic, but he found he didn’t actually mind the professor. His knowledge in potions was vast, perhaps even more so than that of Snape, and he was learning a great deal from him. As he was unable to send out any personal correspondence, he’d asked Slughorn to send out the letters for him. He could’ve asked his mother, but he also didn’t want them to be sent out from their owl. He’d rather the letters arrive rather quietly without any fanfare, that his owl would no doubtably cause.Once he’d bid him goodbye, the Manor library now decorated fully for the Christmas season after a rather successful round of transfiguration and charms, he pulled out his notebook.

So Wilkins, sorry it’s been a while. I’ve been catching up on my studies. How have you been?

Not to worry, I’ve been fine. Decorations are going up for the Christmas Ball, I’ve been trying to stay out of the way of it all.

Which tells me you're at Hogwarts.

Or the Ministry.

They’re also holding a ball to raise funds for all the repairs still needed after the war.

How much is needed?

I believe they’ve set the target for a million galleons.

I didn’t ask that. I asked how much was needed.

Several million more than that. It wasn’t just wizarding properties damaged, it’s in the muggle world too. The more visible ones have been repaired already, which has put us in debt with the muggle world. A necessary means to keep the statute of secrecy in place. By my calculations the Ministry needs at least 5 million galleons.

Have those already imprisoned not been made to donate their vaults.

They have. This is on top of that.

But nothing has been taken from our vaults.

That’s where there is an unfortunate loophole. For families like yours, where the control of the family has passed to the heir upon the head's incarceration, the funds no longer belong to them and so the Ministry can’t take them.

And nobody thought to ask?

Yes. Nott has donated a considerable sum. Parkinson can’t, stupid rules about women, the main vault is on hold waiting for her brother to become of age. They have promised funds though when he does. Goyle can’t, yet.

Why not?

Same reason you can’t. There’s a hold on the family vaults whilst you are under your sentence. It’s effectively a hold on what the amount would be to ensure that if you do fail your sentencing that you don’t squander the funds. If you don’t fail then you’ll be free to donate as you see fit.

That’s ridiculous! Besides, it seems that the Ministry doesn't seem to be all that informed. I know for a fact that Goyle has his own vault, separate to that of the family from which he could donate from.

And how could you possibly know that?

Because I have one too. Our fathers set them up, once Voldemort returned, just in case something happened to them. They foresaw their vaults being raided and wanted to provide us both with some additional security, should that ever happen.

Oh.

Oh, indeed.

I’ll donate. I’ll match whatever’s raised at the ball

What? You can’t be serious!

I’ll even make my minimum equal to the target, that way it will get met one way or another. Feel free to promote my donation. Not for my benefit, I’d do it without the recognition, but donations are rather a competition amongst certain families. If others know how much I’ve donated, they are likely to want to equal it rather than be seen as being outdone.

Are you sure?

100%

Ok, well thanks I guess. I’ll let Kingsley know.

Hmm, Kingsley hey. Not Shacklebolt or Minister.

Another thing to add to my list of clues about who you are, Wilkins.

Oh, sod off, you prat!

So how do you celebrate Christmas? Do you have any traditions?

My mother and the elves would usually decorate the house the week before Christmas in preparation for the ball we would hold on Christmas Eve. Before each ball I was always allowed to open one gift. Whilst the ball was going on, Theo, Pansy, Blaise and I would sneak off to the library away from the adults. It started out pretty innocently when we were younger, but once we’d returned from third year we were secretly stealing from my fathers Ogden’s supply and having our own party. Christmas day was always my favourite, it was the one time I saw both my parents relax from their pureblood aristocratic personas. We’d open presents together in the morning, eat a lavish lunch, before relaxing the rest of the day. It goes without saying that the last few weren’t like that, and I imagine this year will be a little different too. Mother and I will still open a present each but the house will be rather quiet on Christmas Eve. Even with everything that was going on, I was still able to see my friends on Christmas Eve. Now I can’t even talk to them, let alone see them.

What about you Wilkins, do muggles do anything differently?

A little, for starters we never allowed any presents early, especially as a child as it ruined the myth of Santa.

Who?

Santa , Father Christmas, Kris Kringle, St. Nicholas. He goes by many names. It started hundreds of years ago, and has basically evolved in children believing a jolly fat man with a white beard and red suit travels the whole earth on Christmas Eve delivering presents to all the children on the good list. Naughty children would just get a lump of coal. He has 8 reindeer that pull his sleigh, and sometimes an extra one with a red nose when the weather is exceptionally foggy!

It’s not true obviously, just a nice story parents tell their children to get them to behave around the holidays. Once children reach a certain age, the magic of it all becomes less believable and most know the truth by the time they reach high school or Hogwarts.

Did you believe?

Yes, and even more so once I realised that magic was actually real. I think I was thirteen when I caught my Dad sneaking down to place the presents under the tree.

What else?

Well some muggles go to mass on Christmas Eve, but neither of my parents were of that faith, so we never went. Instead we would go carol singing around our neighbourhood, then return home to snuggle up with hot chocolate and marshmallows and play games. Christmas day was much like yours, sometimes we’d have family visit, others we’d go to them. My favourites though were when it was just mum, dad and me in our festive pj’s all day long.

Will you be doing the same this year?

The text went blue but no reply came. Draco waited a few minutes before asking again.

Wilkins?

Again, the text was blue. Draco sat staring at the page, the stuttering glow keeping him puzzled until a few words finally appeared.

I’ll be with a friend’s family this year.

Why not your own?

Wilkins?

What aren’t you telling me?

Err, well, my parents

The page continued to glow.

My parents died.

f*ck!

Can I ask how?

Car accident in February. I didn’t find out until the end of May.

How come?

I oblivated them and sent them away to protect them from the war.

And then they died anyway.

Without their memories ever having known about me.

Without knowing they’d left their daughter behind

All alone.

I’m so sorry Wilkins.

Sorry that you felt you needed to do that to protect them.

Sorry that you didn’t know straight away.

Sorry you lost them.

Just sorry.

After Wilkins' revelation the previous morning, Draco had felt awful and also a little relieved. Awful that their parents had died, but relieved that it wasn’t a result of any of the raids. He didn’t know much about muggle car accidents, but he did know how brutal the raids had been on the muggle borns' houses. Especially given how he suspected Wilkins was beginning to suspect they were a part of the order. Order members family were the first targeted and treated like torture test subjects.

He was still questioning who Wilkins was, he knew now at least they were female, muggle born and most likely a student.

He chose not to dwell too much on it for now, it was Christmas Eve after all and he still needed to wrap his mothers gifts. He’d thought about getting something for Wilkins but didn’t know how he’d get it to them, so he left it.

Sitting by the fireplace that evening, it was time to open his one present. Usually it was his choice, however this year his mother had insisted he open the small blue box adorned with green ribbon. It looked nothing like her usual overly ornate wrapping, so he raised his eyebrows in question.

“Just open it and all will be revealed.”

He slowly pulled the ribbon free from its simple bow and lifted off the lid. Inside sat three notebooks, each one looking much like the one he used to communicate with Wilkins. The only difference is that each one had a set of initials in the top right corner of the front cover. The first had PP, the second TN and the final one BZ. He pulled them all out of the box and found a small note sitting at the bottom.

Just a little something to help keep your traditions alive this Christmas Eve.

The note wasn’t signed, but Draco easily recognised the handwriting, he’d been looking at it almost daily for the last three months. He tentatively opened the first book and there sat, in her signature overly slanted style, a Christmas message from Pansy. The others contained messages from both Blaise and Theo. He was gobsmacked. Instead of responding to them, he excused himself and ran up to his room, seeking his original notebook.

I’m speechless Wilkins, truly. I can’t thank you enough for the gift. I don’t deserve it.

You’re welcome Draco. I hope it brings you some comfort and joy.

I wished I could’ve returned the gesture. I really wanted to get you something, but with the secrecy and all that, it was a little difficult.

Well that’s where you’re wrong. You did get me something.

Your letter arrived today.

Oh.

Yeah.

And?

I need time to process it.

Ok, that’s fair.

Was it nice to catch up with your friends.

I haven’t messaged them back yet.

What, why not?

My first thought was you. I went and retrieved our notebook straight away.

I needed to thank you.

And I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.

And

He hesitated, wondering if they’d really want to hear how he was going to finish that sentence.

And?

“f*ck it!”, he huffed before scrawling down his reply.

And to let you know I was thinking of you.

Happy Christmas Draco.

I’m thinking of you too.

Chapter 4 Chapter Text

Do you have any plans for New Year’s?

Just a quiet night in. Christmas was rather chaotic, so I’m looking forward to just relaxing with a nice bottle of wine and watching romcoms on the telly.

Romcoms? Telly? I have no idea what you just said.

The telly is a muggle electronic device that allows you to watch shows and movies.

Imagine a wizarding photograph that also makes sound, but larger and lasts longer. Movies are a little like plays, but they’re recorded and can be watched over and over. Romcom is short for a particular genre, romantic comedy, which happens to be my secret indulgence!

We could watch a movie as part of one of your field trips if you like?

Wilkins, are you inviting me round your house?

Not exactly, I was thinking more along the lines of the cinema. It’s much like a theatre but instead of the stage there’s a large screen which shows the movie.

Oh, well that sounds ok I suppose.

Ok you suppose, what wonderful enthusiasm I detect from you there Draco!

Well, I was kind of hoping to see where you live.

Hmm, we’ll have to see about that.

What if I told you that a trip to the cinema almost always involves snacks.

Meh

In particular the sweet kind.

Well why did you say that earlier! Count me in.

Wilkins.

WILKINS.

What?

Have you finished your movie yet?

I’ve finished two, and just had to pause another due to some annoying prat messaging me. Why?

I’m bored.

Well use those gifts I got you for Christmas and go bother your friends with your boredom and leave me to my movies.

Can’t, they’re all out partying the night away. And aren’t we friends Wilkins?

I suppose I never really thought about it. Shouldn’t friends know more about each other?

You know my favourite colour. You know my favourite subjects. You know what I like to read.

You know what I did, who I was. You know I’m trying to repent, trying to be better. Is that not enough?

I guess when you put it that way, but there’s still so much I don’t know about you that I know about my other friends. And you don’t know much about me either.

I know more than you think. You forget yourself sometimes and let things slip.

Really, like what?

You’re muggleborn, your favourite colour is blue, you excel with charm work.

All of that’s been pretty obvious, is that it?

Ok, you’re female, an avid reader, a Hogwarts student.

Anything else?

You like mint chocolate and Shakespeare.

You were a part of the Order, your parents were dentists.

You're compassionate, forgiving, thoughtful.

He wondered if he’d taken it a bit too far, but he’d had a few drinks and always found himself to have less of a filter, and couldn’t seem to help himself as the words filled the page. It took a while for a reply to come, so long in fact he’d had almost given up on getting a response.

Want to play a game?

Thankful that she’d brushed over his last sentence, he tried to return things to an easier tone.

I knew you’d come around Wilkins. What kind of game?

We take it in turns to pick questions and both of us have to answer honestly. If I can’t answer as it would give away my identity, you can ask another question.

What if I want to guess who you are WIlkins.

Don’t please.

I’m not ready for that.

It’s just this has been going ok and I’m not sure how you’ll be once you know who I am. There’s an objective to all this after all and I don’t want knowing who I am to jeopardise your progress.

Ok, I’ll behave.

For now.

How many questions do we get?

Lets see it’s not quite 9 yet, so we have around 300 minutes until midnight. If we allow 10 minutes each to answer we should be able to pick 5 questions each before midnight.

Way to kill the fun there Wilkins.

Care to make the game a little more interesting?

How?

Every time we answer we have to drink.

I suppose I could agree to that. Shots of Ogdens?

You read my mind.

Are follow up questions allowed?

Sure. I’ll start.

Hmm, what’s your favourite time of year?

Hands down the summer, even before Hogwarts and the need to have my own room and not share communal meals came about. When I was really young my mother and I would visit Italy and France enjoying the sun. Then as I got older, we’d travel with friends and hop all across Europe from villa to villa without a care in the world.

You?

Spring. The cold has gone and it’s not too hot, life is beginning again. It’s hopeful.

Favourite animal?

Hands down it has to be cats, I love cats.

Do you have one?

Yes, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t. My parents would always moan at me for taking in strays as a child. They weren’t surprised when I picked a cat from Diagon Alley one summer. He’d always be off hunting and carrying in something, mostly dead, into the kitchen, my mum hated it, she was particularly pleased that he was allowed to join me at Hogwarts.

Tell me about him?

Can’t. There weren’t many of us with them and if I described him to you, you’d be able to figure out who I am.

Well, just by knowing he’s a he, I’ve already knocked a few more people off my list, so you slipped up there a bit Wilkins. You sure you don’t want me to figure this out?

Oh, shut it you.

What’s yours then? And for the love of all things magical don’t say peaco*cks!

Don’t worry it’s not the peaco*cks. Couldn’t stand the blasted things, anyways they belonged to my father.

Do you not still have them?

Our rather dark house guest killed them to punish my father after Potter escaped the Manor.

In answer to your question though, it’s hard to say. For an animal that I have actually interacted with I’d have to say owls. My owl, Mercury, is simply majestic in the sky. My mum’s been looking after for the last few years, but the war has taken a toll on her. Once allowed I will be getting another owl to handle the business communications and let Mercury enjoy her final years in a more restful manner.

But I also hold a fascination for my name sake. I’d love the chance to meet one up close.

What’s the closest you’ve been to one?

The same as how close I expect most people to have been, from the stands at the Tri Wizard Cup. You?

Hmm, sorry can’t answer that one.

Interesting.

He snigg*red to himself, Wilkins was trying hard not to give anything away, but it only made him more curious. Just who was this witch?

Do you have a favourite breed?

It would have to be the Antipodean Opaleye. Both beautiful and loyal.

Okay, most embarrassing moment?

There’s been a few. Being trampled on by a Hippogriff, being turned into a ferret, losing to Potter at quidditch.

But if I had to pick one

Chapter 5 Chapter Text

January 1999

He’d been awake for a few hours, when the ping of the notebook surprised him later that afternoon.

Happy New Year Draco!

He tried to stay calm whilst responding but his heart was threatening to escape his chest.

Happy New Year Wilkins!

After his initial panic about his discovery, he’d decided to keep quiet. Re-reading their conversation, he’d seen that she was keen to remain hidden for now, and out of respect for everything she’d done for him, he thought it was the least he could do. He was going to try and remain normal, and that meant a little healthy sparring and teasing about the more salacious parts of their conversation.

How’s your head this morning, I hope you’re well stocked with hangover drafts!

I was eventually able to dig one from the back of my cupboard. That is definitely one thing wizards do better than muggles.

What do they just suffer?

No, they mostly just take pain remedies, but there are several different things people claim to help them, a greasy fry up, coffee, hair of the dog.

Hair of the dog?

Muggle expression, means to have another alcoholic drink. Never worked for me.

So, err, interesting conversation last night, Wilkins. Have any sharers remorse.

A little, some of those questions were a little out of the scope of what we should be discussing.

On the contrary, I learnt something new and very interesting about muggles. Certainly sparked my curiosity about their ingenuity!

Well, you’ll just have to wait till you're free to learn more about that particular subject area.

Or just get you drunk enough to let your guard down with me again…

Yeah, we’ll see about that.

There was an awkward pause between the two. Draco felt a burning desire to question her more, but everything just kept coming back to who she was and why she would be like this with him. She’d been championing him from the outset, long before she’d asked him about anything to do with his views. Even before she’d received his apology.

“f*ck!. f*ck, f*ck f*ck!” his voice broke the sweet silence of his room.

It had just dawned on him that she’d received her letter on Christmas Eve. They’d yet to discuss it. Her particular letter was the first one he wrote and was by far the hardest. He’d done as she’d asked, he was honest, brutally so. Explaining every name he’d learned from his father, his frustrations with how she excelled and he being told over and over that she had no right to, even how he’d been punished for coming second to a muggle born.

He apologised for it all, over and over, promising that wasn’t how he saw it any more. And if he was honest, not really how he saw it before either. He was just lead a stray in his attempts to please his father. A man he no longer looked up to. A man who sold his son's soul in an attempt to regain his own power in the ranks. He apologised for his part in everything. For letting the death eaters in, for his attempts on Dumbledore. For not defecting sooner. For not saving her whilst she lay helpless on his drawing room floor.

Just thinking about that night and the way his aunt had tortured her, something else she’d told him clicked into place. No wonder her tea worked for him. The timeline fit, their headaches were the same, caused by the same psychotic witch. He desperately wanted to talk to her about it all, but he knew he’d need to wait.

The lull in messages was uncomfortable, he wondered if she felt it too. He reminded himself he had to continue on like normal, so picked up his quill to start some banter.

So, I noticed you never answered one of the questions last night as I rudely interrupted with another before you had the chance. Care to indulge me with it now?

Depends, what question was it?

What are your plans for the future?

Oh, erm, I think I might just travel for a bit, let myself be for while you know?

No plans for a career?

I always thought I’d want to work for the Ministry, but after everything that’s happened, it just doesn’t appeal anymore. Perhaps something within education or maybe even healing.

You certainly seem to have the right persona for either of those.

Thanks.

As the days went on Draco found himself often thinking about his discovery. Going over their messages again and again, making more sense of things she’d said.

“Do I think you’re evil? Once upon a time, I may have said yes, but now, no.”

She’d called him a foul, loathsome, evil little co*ckroach, right before she’d hit him in third year.

“My parents met during college, they’d both signed up to take part in A Winter’s Tale. They shared a love of Shakespeare, that play in particular.”

He’d worked his way through the works of Shakespeare early on in their conversations, why hadn’t it dawned on him then. Of course her name was Hermione, her parents had named her after a character in their favourite play, one that had caused them to meet.

“If I described him to you, you’d be able to figure out who I am.”

She was right there, nearly every girl with a cat had pretty little things. Hers was a rather large ball of orange fluff with a squished face, everyone knew it belonged to her.

“My first kiss was about a week before the Yule Ball…before asking me to be his date.”

No wonder she couldn’t tell him who she kissed, everyone at school and the majority of the wizarding world knew that she’d accompanied Viktor sodding Krum to the ball. And that meant that, wow! Little minx! He’d always suspected it would have been with Weasley, but Krum, sh*t!

Thoughts of her took up the majority of his day, driving him slightly insane. Putting a face to the witty banter, the intellectual bickering, the compassion. It was too much, let alone knowing about her bedroom activities. Or that she was proud of her bum.

He needed to think of something else, so he pulled out his text books, pushed aside his notebook and attempted to get lost in memorising potion recipes.

Have you ever listened to any muggle music?

Can’t say I have.

Then we need to rectify that. I’m going to owl you something, when it arrives let me know and I’ll guide you through using it.

How is it any different to wizard music?

Well, there’s more choice for starters. It would be good to get an idea if you liked any in case we wanted to incorporate it in any of our field trips. Let me know when it arrives, ok?

Sure.

Ok Wilkins, I’m intrigued. What is this weird device you’ve sent me, with what looks to be ear muffs and some mirrored bits of plastic?

It’s a cd player, complete with headphones and cds. You place the headphones - ear muff looking things - on your ears to hear the music. The music is stored on the cds - mirrored plastic. On the opposite side to the mirror finish, it will tell you who the musician is, I’ve also listed some song titles for you too.

So what do I do with it?

Right, so on the main device there is a button which looks like a triangle with a line underneath, this is the eject button. Press this and then insert one of the cds, mirror side down then close the lid.

Ok, I’ve done that, what’s next.

Place the headphones over your ears and press the single triangle button. You should then hear the music. If you want to adjust the volume use the plus and minus sign. If you’d like to skip to the next song, you need to press the double triangles, with the points facing the right, to go back it's the opposite.

I’ll leave you to it , let me know what you think.

Muggles are filthy.

Excuse me, WHAT?

These songs, Wilkins.

Oh!

Some of them are good, great even, but some are just pure filth.

Do muggles actually like hearing about other people's sex lives in song?

Surprisingly it sells. I take it, you don’t approve.

Mmmm, I didn’t say that. I just can’t believe people don’t find it offensive.

Some people do, but that’s the greatest thing about music. It’s an expression of feelings by the artist. It can be about love, war, friends, death, drugs, depression and quite often sex. And what I sent you was pretty tame in that regard.

I must say I’m curious to hear more.

Did you have a favourite?

From the older stuff I quite liked some of the music by the bugs

The Beatles

Yes them, and Fleetwood Mac.

And the new stuff?

I liked what you’d labelled as dance music, but can’t for the life of me see how you’d be able to dance to any of it.

Hmm, I can see why you’d think that. Clubbing definitely needs to be added to your list of muggle activities.

Clubbing? Wilkins I didn’t sign on to be beaten.

Again, difference in definition. You won’t be hurt, though your mind may get a little blown!

February 1999

Do you know how the repairs are going?

Mostly ok. The muggles and muggleborn homes have been the hardest. It appears they have been cursed with dark magic during the raids preventing their repair. There are quite a lot of families still in temporary housing unable to return home.

There’s not many able people left after that war that can untangle the curses. It takes time to figure out what spells were used and those involved are either dead or resistant to veritaserum.

Occlumency training was mandatory amongst higher level death eaters, so you won’t get anything from them. I may not have been on the raids, but I know who was and how they operated.

I could help.

If I’m allowed of course.

The text turned blue and Draco waited anxiously for a response. The time dragged by while he waited for the glow, the tell tale sign that a message was on its way. It felt like hours, but was only just a few minutes.

Draco, I don’t know what to say. I didn’t tell you that to guilt you into helping. You know that right?

Yes, and you didn’t. Guilt me that is.

When you set me that task, I did what you said, I was honest, but to do that I had to be honest with myself. Honest with who, or what rather, I’d become. And how it had gotten to that point. Yes, a lot of the blame can be put on my father. But not all of it, I blindly followed him, believed him. Never once questioned anything, until it was too late. By then a madman had taken over my house, threatened my mother, controlled my father and by extension me. I couldn’t see a way out, so I succumbed to it.

Looking back, there are so many things I wished I could’ve done differently. I’d like to help make things better, be better, do better. I really think I could help with this.

You are doing better Draco. There’s been a lot of talk surrounding your letters. I’ll chat with Kingsley, I imagine he’d be appreciative of your help.

The page still glowed for several minutes, until a small scrawl appeared.

As am I.

So any big plans for next weekend?

No, why?

No hot date?

You know for Valentines?

Come on you must have had lots of offers

Oh, that. No. Nothing planned. No offers.

Well that does surprise me Wilkins.

You know, if I wasn’t stuck under house arrest, I’d ask you.

Yeah sure Draco, you say that now to the anonymous girl who’s helping you out.

You wouldn’t be asking if you actually knew who I was.

Humour me. Say I did know who you were and I asked you, what would you say?

The text went blue but frustratingly the page did not glow. His pulse was racing. As much as he was pained to admit, she had infiltrated his every waking, and sleeping thought. He recalled his list of perfect date credentials and the more he thought about her the more he realised he’d described her. He knew he didn’t deserve her, but he couldn’t help himself.

I’m no good with hypotheticals. I know you’d never ask, so it’s pointless me replying.

He debated letting it drop, but he was a little frustrated in how she perceived his thoughts on her.

Please just answer the question Wilkins.

Look I get. We have great banter & similar interests. But you don’t want me Draco, you want the fantasy of who you think I am. It’s not the actual me that you picture.

It’s a simple yes or no, that’s all I’m asking.

I can’t. It’s not ethical as your liaison to answer.

Don’t pull that sh*t with me, our little game on new years wasn’t exactly ethical now was it?

Yes or no. If asked you out, what would you say?

Please.

The glow on the page stuttered. And then his heart stopped.

Yes, ok. I’d say yes.

You would?

Yes. I said I get it, I do. I’ll admit how well we’ve gotten on has been surprising, but yes, if you were to know who I was and asked me, I’d say yes.

Hmm, good to know Wilkins. Good to know.

Chapter 6 Chapter Text

March 1999

In the weeks that followed, Draco kept up the pretence of not knowing who she was. Since Valentines he’d been a little more forward with his comments, which to his delight has been matched with her own unique flirty banter. He was anxiously awaiting the last Saturday of the month for when they’d finally get to see one another, so he wouldn’t have to hold in his secret knowledge of her identity any longer.

He’d begun to worry a little about how things might translate from the page to actually conversing in person. And they’d still not discussed his letter, although he knew that was because it would give her away if they did. Thoughts of her had consumed him and he’d even considered talking with Theo about it, but he felt like that would be a betrayal, to talk about her before she even knew he knew her. Instead he’d found walking the gardens a way to find some temporary relief, the sounds of the fountain and the gentle rustle of bushes soothing the chaos in his mind.

He just returned from one of these walks when his ring alerted him to a new message. Typical, he’d just gotten his thoughts of her to quieten down and there she was, rousing them again.

I’ve heard from Kingsley. The Ministry would very much like to take you up on your offer to help. And given the urgent need to make some progress, they don’t want to wait until your sentence is over. They want me to accompany you on the first one, to help with introductions to the team and to gauge how long it takes and how draining it is on your magic. You’ll obviously be granted the use of your wand, but it will only be given to you once on site. I’ll then report back and a schedule will be made for future visits.

I’d started to think they didn’t want my help, but this is good, great even. When will the first one be?

I suggested after our first meeting, that way you’d have a little experience in the muggle world first. However as I’m not available the following weekend I thought perhaps if you were ok with it we could go the day after?

Yes of course, the sooner the better. I really want to be able to help.

I was hoping you’d say that.

Am I allowed to know what we’re doing on Saturday?

Well I have a few ideas but something tells me we will need to go shopping first?

Really, why?

You’ll need some muggle clothing, especially for the Sunday. I can’t ever remember you wearing anything slightly casual and you’ll certainly stick out in your robes. You’ll need some muggle money too.

Fine. But please tell me that won’t take up the whole day. I’ve been stuck in for months on end and would like to do something a little more interesting than just shopping.

Don’t worry, once I’ve sorted your wardrobe I have a full day planned for us.

How was your meeting with Slughorn?

Really good, he’s trying to encourage me to do the mastery with him. He’s even got my mother on board to try and convince me to ‘not waste my aptitude and potential’.

And how do you feel about it?

I’m coming round to the idea

But…

It’s dependent on McGonagall, so I don’t want to get my hopes up.

How so?

Whilst Slughorn still teaches at Hogwarts, I’d need permission to visit there and now that she's the Headmistress, she’d get the final say.

I don’t see that being a problem, she’s implemented quite a few new ideas at Hogwarts and has been all about moving forwards after everything that’s happened.

Well, I’ve got a while to think about it, as I’ll need to finish my sentence first.

So, how is it going to work tomorrow?

Well as you’re not allowed your wand, you’ll need to side apparate with me. I’m to use a floo with access to the Manor at 8.30 and then we’ll walk past your anti-apparition wards and go from there.

To say he was shocked she was coming here was an understatement. Why would she want to return here, to the place she was tortured. Surely there was a better way. He couldn’t let her come here.

Is that really necessary, can’t I meet you outside the wards?

For you to leave the wards under your sentence you need to be escorted by either an Auror, a Ministry official or me.

Then one of them can do it.

That’s not really practical.

I don’t care, it’s what needs to happen.

Draco, what’s going on. Is this because I’m not welcome in your home, I thought we were passed this, I thought we

Merlin no, it’s not that.

Don’t think that, please don't ever think that.

Then what is it?

How was he meant to tell her that he didn’t want her to suffer by coming here, without telling her he knew.

Tell me.

Please, you’re worrying me.

f*ck it, it was time to come clean.

Alright

Ok, I just

You just what?

I just don’t think it’s fair that by having agreed to help me with this, that you have to come here.

It should be on your own terms and not because the Ministry is asking it of you.

I know I’d never blame you for not ever wanting to come back here.

Especially

Especially after what happened

He couldn’t quite bring himself to use her name yet so he moved away, knowing it would stop the glow on her end, signalling he was done.

What do you mean after what happe

Wait

You know don’t you?

Who I am?

Yes.

Why didn’t you say anything?

I didn’t think you’d want me to, you asked me not to guess.

How long?

Since our little game at new years, too many things added up, there was nobody else you could be.

But that

That means

Valentines?

You

You knew?

The page was flickering during her stuttering phrases, Draco knew she must be struggling with the realisation of all that had gone on between then the last few months.

Yes, that means when I asked, I already knew it was you. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hold you to that yes. I know you’re my liaison and take the role seriously, I’m beyond thankful for you for that and everything you’ve already done for me.

But maybe when this is over and I’m hopefully a free wizard, I could ask you again?

I’m sorry Draco, this is a lot, I need some time.

I just need to process this.

Ok, will I still see you tomorrow?

He waited for the text to change or the page to glow, but nothing. He sat at his desk for over an hour before he finally closed the book and made his way down for some breakfast.

He spent the day doing anything he could to keep his mind off of her and what she could be thinking. He started in the library, he could usually lose himself in a book, but the words held no distraction for him today. He moved outside with the hopes of a mind clearing walk, but again his mind just wouldn’t let the thoughts of her go.

He was pacing in the orangery in the afternoon, desperate to release the tension that had seeped into his body. It had been hours, why hadn’t she responded yet? Was she not going to come? Had he blown his chance at freedom from not holding it in for just one more day?

“Please sit down Draco, you’re making me frightfully dizzy.”

At his mothers request he fell into one of the arm chairs and let out a sigh.

Chapter 7 Chapter Text

They stood staring at each for what had felt like hours to Draco, but had only been a handful of seconds at best, until she spoke again.

“Have you eaten yet? I was thinking we could grab some breakfast if you haven’t or just tea if you have as we have a little time before the shops open.”

He could hear she was nervous, it set him at ease a little to know he wasn’t the only one. His mind began racing with all the questions he was desperate to ask, but they had all day and he really was rather hungry.

“Breakfast sounds good.”

Hermione apparated them to a quiet alley round the back of what appeared to be an abandoned pub on the edge of the river Thames.

“The Old Owl, it’s actually a wizarding pub. Caters mostly to muggleborns and half bloods due to the location in muggle London. Young clientele too. It was closed for almost three decades, but it reopened after the war under some new management. I hear it’s been doing really well. The outside is just a front to prevent muggles wandering in. The entrance is just a bit further down the alley.”

“Is that where we’re getting breakfast?”

“No, there’s a quiet little cafe a few streets away. This is just the closest apparition point.”

They walked in silence, Hermione leading the way until they passed a handful of tables and chairs set up on the street. She stopped half way along at the entrance and pushed open the door, he followed her to a table set in the rear corner.

“I hope this is ok, they make the best breakfast bagels and my favourite blend of tea.”

As he nods, the waitress arrives to take their order. Having been here often Hermione already knows what she wants, but Draco is still taking in the place and not even glanced at the menu yet.

“I’ll take the sour dough - “.

“Bagel with poached eggs and avo. Did you want your usual tea too?”

“Yes please”, she nods, smiling, “oh, and can I get some bacon added to the bagel today.”

“Of course. And for you?” she asks, turning to Draco.

“Err, I guess I’ll have the same please.” The waitress nods and leaves them alone to go prepare their tea.

“You must come here a lot for them to know your order.”

“I’ve been coming here for years. I spent a lot of time here in the summer before going back to Hogwarts and again on Christmas break. My dad liked it here, we’d stop by on Sunday mornings for brunch, just him and me. We’d always sit by the window and watch people walk by, trying to guess what they were doing, who they were, that kind of thing. But once our food arrived, we’d just sit quietly together, him with his paper, me with a book. Happy and content to be in each other's company without the need for any more conversation. I haven’t been able to sit at our table since, but still, it comforts me to be here.”

Before he has the chance to respond, the waitress returns with the tea and asks if they need anything.

“Honey, if you have it and cream too please.”

“You won’t need it with this tea Draco, trust me.”

“Mi's right, this one’s sweet enough on its own. Your bagels will be out in a few minutes.”

“Mi?” he asks once they are alone again.

“Oh, it was my dad’s name for me. In fact most people I know in the muggle world call me that.”

“I like it. So much quicker to write too,” he gently smirks at her.

At last the food arrived, Draco's stomach had been gurgling in what he hoped was just hunger and he quickly pulled out his napkin and cutlery. Meanwhile Hermione had already dug in, grasping the bagel with both hands and forgoing any formalities. He eyed her strangely, until she finally gave in to ask, “What?”

“I didn’t realise you had no manners Granger.”

“You have to eat a bagel with your hands, it’s the rules. Come on, dig in and eat your bagel like a normal person and not like a rich snob.”

“Having table manners doesn’t make me a snob, it’s just proper and polite.”

“Please, just do it. No one here gives a crap about whether or not you have perfect manners. Besides, you'll enjoy it more this way.”

“Doubtful”, he mutters as he picks up his bagel, huffing again before taking a bite. It’s pretty delicious, but he doesn’t see how it would’ve made a difference eating it with a knife and fork. He takes a sip of his untouched tea now that it’s cool enough to try.

“Mmm, what’s in this tea?”

“It’s just a black tea blend with hints of caramel and cream. It reminds me a little of butter beer.”

“Yes”, he nods in agreement, “that’s it exactly. It’s rather lovely.”

They’re both quiet whilst they finish off their breakfast and sip their tea. When the table is cleared Hermione goes to settle the bill, she chats for a few minutes with one of the other staff members before gesturing towards him and then the door.

“So, what just happened?”

“What are you on about”

“You didn’t hand over any money and you said you were going to settle up, but just waved around a bit of plastic. I’m confused, I thought muggle money was coins and bits of colourful paper.”

“It is, but we also have bank cards. They’re connected to our accounts, we present the card when we want to pay for something, the bank then sends the money from your account, provided you have it in there to give, to that of the seller. It saves having to carry large amounts of cash around. You can also use it to take out cash without needing to visit the bank.”

“That sounds pretty amazing, shame the goblins haven’t thought of doing that.”

“It would be a little hard, you need electricity and phone lines for it to work.”

“Phone lines?”

“Muggle form of floo call, except you can only hear people and not see them.”

“How do you get an account?”

“The same way you do at Gringotts, you go in, open one up and deposit your money. “

“Interesting.”

“Right, let’s get going, the sooner we shop the sooner we can get to the fun stuff.”

Draco stood staring at himself in the mirror, pleasantly surprised at how the clothes Hermione had picked out looked. His father would have a fit if he was to see him, but that in a slightly sad*stic way only added to the appeal.

They were in a rather large store which housed all sorts of things, and had taken something called the tube to get there. He’d been fascinated to learn of all the interconnecting tunnels during their conversations, but was slightly off put by the reality given how crowded they were. Still it had been alright and he didn’t feel as out of place as he expected. He’d been given a few looks but they'd mostly been of the suggestive kind, nothing that denoted any disdain or that he didn’t belong. Everyone had just seemed to busy with their own lives to notice he wasn’t one of them.

He tried on the next bundle of clothes and found the long sleeve top with a few buttons at the top to be ridiculously comfortable as well as enhancing his newly toned physique. The jeans would take some getting used to, but he noted that she’d picked out a couple of black pairs which he was grateful for.

He left the room with a pile of options, to find Hermione waiting with a stack of trainers for him to try. He looked up at her and sighed.

“Really, what’s wrong with my shoes?”

“Nothing, it’s just I think you should try some. Who knows you might like them.”

“Fine, but we’re done after this.”

“Almost, we just need to get you a jacket.”

“Urrgg”, he moaned as he flopped down and began removing his dragon leather boots.

Forty five minutes later they were all done. Draco had changed into the black jeans, long sleeved tee and grey hoody Hermione had insisted he get. On his feet sat the most comfortable pair of shoes he’d ever had on his feet. She’d laughed when he bought multiple pairs of the same style just in different colours. Walking down the street, his purchases sneakily shrunk and hidden away in Hermione’s cheekily extended bag, he realised he could get used to this. He felt the most relaxed he’d been in years. Granted he put most of it down to her company, but the clothing and anonymity were definitely playing a factor too.

“We’ve got a little time to spare before our next activity, I was honestly expecting you to take a lot longer shopping, so I’m going to give you a choice. We can either be tourists and hop on one of the open top buses and see some of the landmarks of muggle London, or we can take a walk along the river and head to a pub and have a long lunch.”

“As much as I’d love to explore London, I’m going with the second one. It will give us time to talk.”

They began walking towards the river, the hustle and bustle of the busy streets, drowning out the ever present reticence between them. They had spoken a little during breakfast, and a few more times since but nothing more of any significance. It was clear to Draco that she wasn’t going to be the first to discuss the erumpent in the room, and he too was struggling to broach the subject. However, once they reached the quieter area beside the water, the deafening silence became too much.

“Why is this so hard?” he stopped and reached for her hand before realising what he was doing, and retracted it before she noticed.

“Two days ago I could’ve written pages to you, but now, I don’t know what to say.”

“Exactly, we’ve been talking for months. You know me better than anyone else, this should be easy right?”

“I’m sorry, it’s after what you told me yesterday, I just don’t know how to be.”

“I know, and I never meant to make you uncomfortable, Hermione, I swear. I just wanted to protect you from having to relive what she did to you.”

She turns to face him, the genuine look of concern and remorse on his face recementing everything she’d come to know and understand of him over the last few months.

“I’d been dreading it for weeks actually, not the seeing you part, just the thought of being there again. I just kept telling myself that it would be fine, but the nightmares wouldn’t stop. Nobody had even suggested that someone else could escort you out, they all just assumed I’d be ok to do it. Nobody except you that is. I feel so bad for thinking the worst of why you didn’t want me there, especially now, knowing you were just looking out for me”

“Please don’t, it’s my fault for not telling you sooner that I knew. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“Actually, I’m thankful that you didn’t tell me. I felt freer to be myself whilst hiding behind a different name. Everyone always thinks they know me - Hermione Granger - famous muggleborn, one third of the golden trio, the brightest witch of her age. But that’s just a caricature of what they’ve made me and not who I am deep down. Talking to you, I was just able to be me, the real me, just Mi.”

“It’s been the same for me. Obviously you knew who I was before, a narrow minded, prejudice bully, with a dark mark to prove it. But by offering to help me with this, you gave me a clean slate, a chance to figure out who I was and who I want to be. I’m so thankful for you Hermione, and I’m so so sorry for everything that happened before.”

She moved a little closer, her whole body facing him and reached for his hand. “I know you’re sorry Draco, your letter, it was beautiful.”

He closed his eyes at the feel of her hand entwined with his own. Her skin was incredibly soft, and he couldn’t help but run little circles over the top with his thumb.

“Yours was the first one. When you asked me to write to someone I could apologise to and truly mean it, I knew I couldn’t stop at just one person. Everyone I’d ever hurt deserved one, and I managed to send one to them all. But yours, Merlin, yours had to be the first. I was truly awful to you, I still don’t understand how we’ve gotten to this point, but I’m so incredibly grateful for it. I don’t ever expect your forgiveness Hermione, but that doesn’t mean I’m ever going to stop trying to earn it.”

As he opens his eyes, he sees a lone tear falling down her cheek and is unable to resist. His thumb catches the drop and chases the trail away, his palm lingering on her cheek. Her eyes meet his and before he can even register her moving, he’s captured in her embrace. She reaches up, her chest crashing against his, her arms circling his neck. Stretched on her tiptoes her breath tickles his neck, and he feels his pulse quicken. His arms find their way around her, pulling her in even closer. He’d never felt comfort like it, holding her was unlike anything else. He could smell the coconut of her shampoo mixed with something slightly floral. He thought he could be in heaven. Until she tilted her head slightly, her lips faintly brushing his jaw as she leaned in and spoke.

“Thank you.”

Then he knew he was.

They stayed like that for a while, both taking solace in the other's arms, before they were interrupted by a loud tour group passing. They broke apart, smiling coyly at each other.

“So, I think we’ve earned ourselves a drink don’t you think?”

“I most certainly do.”

Having found a quaint little pub, they’d both ordered a pint and bangers and mash, Hermione having decided to let him flaunt his table manners just this once today, knowing full well what she had in store for him later. After their conversation, they both felt more relaxed and conversation flowed much better.

“Is that one of those telly things?” Draco asks, nodding his head towards the screen at the end of the bar.

“Yes, although it is much larger than what most people have in their houses.”

“And what is it that people are watching?”

“Ah, that’s football. It’s the most popular sport in the muggle world.”

“So, not much point me asking you much else about it then.”

She laughs, “Actually, I’ve been holding out on you a little. I’m quite the fan of football as it turns out, but I thought it was best to let you see it rather than just read about it. In fact - “ she stopped to take a sip of her pint. Eager to hear what she was about to say, Draco prompts her to finish.

“In fact?”

“That’s our next activity for today. Much like quidditch has national teams, so does football and today just so happens to be a qualifier for next years European championships. We’re going to the national stadium to watch England play against Poland.”

A broad smile lights up his face, “Right, well get to it Granger, I’m going to need to know how it works to fully appreciate the experience.”

Smiling, she launches into everything she knows about football. Draco listens intently whilst they eat and manage another pint each. Before they know it, it’s time to leave. They travel across the city by tube again and this time it’s even more crowded with rowdy football fans.

Hermione has moved on from the rules and game play and instead is filling Draco in on the history of the game and the significance of Wembley stadium. He can clearly see she’s passionate and can’t wait to see what all the fuss is about. They split up briefly to use the bathroom and when Hermione returns she’s grinning and rather obviously hiding something behind her back.

“Here”, she beams at him whilst producing a white scarf. One side proudly states England with the team emblem of three lions, and the other holds details of the day's game. “Thought you needed something to show your support.”

“Where’s yours?”

She smirks and unzips her hoody, showing off her England shirt that had been hiding underneath all day.

“You ready?”

“Lead the way Granger, lead the way.”

The game turned out to be a success, Draco absolutely loving it. He screamed and cheered with the fans and was overjoyed to see them win. They’d decided to go for some more drinks to celebrate, mingling with the fans and just having a fun filled time. Hermione had to drag him away from the group they’d found themselves with, reminding him that he had work in the morning. Stumbling out of the pub, Draco moaned he was hungry, so they indulged in yet more handheld food this time in the form of chips, having scoffed down some pies at half time.

When they reach the apparation point Hermione pulls two vials of sober up potion from her bag and hands him one.

“Never a good idea to apparate, let alone with someone, when you've been drinking, bottoms up.” They both knock them back instantly feeling more alert. Within minutes she whisks them back to the gates of the manor and escorts him back through the wards, handing him over his shopping.

He takes the scarf off and holds it out to her. Grasping his hand in hers, she pushes them back into his chest.

“It’s yours, a memento of your first foray in the muggle world.”

“The first of many, and I don’t just mean the ones the Ministry are making me do.”

“I'm glad to hear it. Goodnight Draco.”

“Good night Hermione.”

He feels her lips press briefly against his cheek, before she’s gone with a swift crack of apparition, leaving him wondering if he’d really felt it all.

Chapter 8 Chapter Text

Ignoring his mother completely, Draco walked to his room in daze. His mind overran with memories of the day, the food, the clothing, the travel, the footy, the pub. It was all wonderful and he couldn’t believe that he’d wasted so much time thinking that the muggle world was beneath him. How could he have ever thought them to be primitive, the things they were able to do without magic astounded him and the people were so friendly. Granted he only interacted with mostly drunk football lovers, but still.

And then there was her. Hermione.

He’d been glad that after they’d spoken by the river, that their normal banter had somewhat resumed. He remembers clearly how her hand felt in his, her skin soft like silk. He’d felt like the luckiest man alive being able to touch her, even in such a small way, but then she’d gone and blown that out of the water. Having her in his arms was amazing and once the barrier had been broken, the touches kept coming. She was always the one to initiate, a pull of his arm here, a shoulder bump there, their bodies practically merging as one whilst they resided in the obscenely overcrowded pub.

And then that goodbye. His cheek still tingled from what one could barely describe as a kiss but to him was everything.

There had been so much he wanted to ask her today, so much he wanted to tell her, but as much as the banter became easier, the same couldn’t be said for the deeper stuff. His brain wouldn’t shut up for things he should’ve said and for the opportunities he’d missed. He needed a clear head for tomorrow's tasks, so he turned to the notebook knowing it hadn’t been a problem on the page to be open with her, at least not recently. He knew he should be asking the question that had been on the tip of his tongue all day but instead his hand and trusty quill had other ideas.

You kissed me?!

He was surprised at her instantaneous response, if he had in fact been paying attention he would’ve seen that his last message had been read and the page had been flickering.

Is that a statement or a question?

You asking that indicates that you did

How do you work that out?

Well, if you hadn’t kissed me, the first thing you'd do is correct me, and considering you didn’t, I’m going ahead and believing that you did.

You think you know me so well don’t you?

Well there is one thing I don’t know.

What’s that?

Why you came today?

You know why, it’s part of your sentencing.

I know that

And you know that’s not what I meant.

I’m not going to lie, I was surprised to see you this morning, pleasantly surprised, especially after what you discovered yesterday and your reaction. I’d prepared myself for not seeing you, I’d prepared for disappointment.

But I need to know why Hermione because my mind has been crazy all day, burning for you, desperate to know if you’re feeling this thing between us too.

Once I had time to calm down and think about it, there was no way I couldn’t meet you today, you’ve come so far with your rehabilitation, you didn’t deserve me spoiling it. I spoke with Kingsley about returning to the Manor and he felt bad he’d not thought of it. He immediately suggested amending the wards to allow me in through the gates and not just the floo, but it would need a senior Auror to action it. That’s what Davenport told me this morning before he left, that he’d arrived earlier and made the changes. We can meet at the gates from now on.

I’ll admit, part of me was unfairly expecting you to retreat from me when you finally saw it was me. Knowing that you’d known for so long and the nature of our conversations of late stunned me.

Draco, I don’t want you to burn for me.

His heart sunk, he was hoping upon all hope that she felt the same or was at least willing to see where their written chemistry could lead. Perhaps she hadn't meant to kiss him after all.

I want

He had to interrupt, let her know it was ok. As much as it would pain him, he still wanted her in his life and if friends are all they’d ever be, so be it.

To be friends. That’s ok I understand.

I don’t think you do.

I don’t just want you to burn for me Draco

I want us to catch fire, burn and redefine fiendfyre together

Yeah, oh.

You know after our talk by the river, I thought you might pick up on my signals. I’d been trying to show you how I felt all day. I kept telling myself that if you didn’t kiss me by the end of the night, then I’d have to take matters into my own hands, but then I got scared and well, you know.

Gave my cheek the most delicious brush of your lips before immediately departing. If I’d have known, I swear we’d still be in the garden now.

You say that now

If it wasn’t already so late, I’d ask you to come back, but tomorrow’s important and I need some sleep.

You never did tell me what time we have to be there tomorrow?

10, it will take about 30 minutes to get there, so I was planning on getting you around 9.30

Make it 9

Sweets dreams Hermione, I know mine will be.

He closed the book not waiting for her reply, he was in desperate need of a drink to calm his racing heart. Upon entering the library, he found his mother sitting by the fire.

“Well, are you going to tell me how it went, or are you going to continue to ignore me?”

“Sorry mother, had to clear something up, we forgot to arrange a time for tomorrow.”

“I see you’ve bought some interesting clothing”, she remarks looking him up and down, “it suits you. You seem more relaxed than last night, I take it you enjoyed your day?”

“Immensely. I was so wrong on many levels. The muggle world is fascinating, I even made a few new acquaintances.” He pours himself a large Ogden’s and takes the other seat opposite Narcissa.

“And Miss Granger, how was she?”

“There aren’t the words”, he smiles over his glass.

“Very well then. I do hope it works out tomorrow, remember it will try and pull you in. You must remain strong and not over do it.”

“I’ll do my best.”

He’d risen early, had a full breakfast and couldn’t resist coming outside to wait, even though she wasn’t due for another half an hour. He was pacing by the gate, decked out again in his muggle attire, this time he’d opted for the green and black trainers and given the grey clouds looming he’d also put on his new jacket. His wand was locked in a charmed case, which he was assuming Hermione or someone else on site would be able to unlock for him. He’d been grateful to learn upon leaving Azkaban that his original wand had been returned to him and he wouldn’t have to adjust to a new one. It would’ve been a difficult feat to pass his exams whilst only having access to a new wand once a week, let alone the tasks he was about to undertake.

He was just checking his watch when he heard it. Her arrival. The gates opened and allowed him to see her, she was stunning. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, with unruly tendrils falling around her face and neck. She too had opted for a jacket, hers matching the material of her jeans and he could just make out a hint of a pink jumper poking out of the bottom. Her whole face was smiling at him and he couldn’t help but smile back.

He took several strides towards her, desperate to be closer to her.

“Hel-”

He swallowed whatever she’d been about to say with his lips. She told him not 12 hours ago that she’d been hoping he’d make a move the day before, so today he was set on making amends from the very moment he saw her.

As much as he wanted to devour her, he also wanted their first kiss to be tender and meaningful. If it all went the way he hoped, he’d have a lifetime of showing her the passion that was running through him just at the mere thought of her.

Her hand came up to tangle in his hair, his gently caressing her jaw, their lips softly brushing in a delicate dance. He pulled away, his forehead leaning down on hers.

“I’ve been waiting months to do that.”

“So why’d you stop”, she whispers before pulling him down to join their lips again. This time soft and gentle was left far behind, desire and longing clouded both their movements, each of them giving as good as they got. Lips lustfully bitten, tongues torturously tangled, hands desperately grasping trying to make them one.

A small gasp escaped from Hermione as her back hit the pillar of the gate. Draco used the momentary split of their lips to trail kisses along her jaw, “f*ck Hermione, I don’t think I ever want to stop kissing you.”

“Hmm, I’d love for you not to”, she sighs as he works his way back to her lips “but-“. She tries to continue but his kisses steal her protest.

He holds her face firmly between his palms as he pulls away, “but we need to get going, right?”

She nods, trying to regain her breath before pulling him though the wards.

“The first location is a bit of a walk from the nearest apparition point, but I’ve been told there’s port keys to the rest of the locations and then back to here. We’ll need to stay professional and keep ‘this’ between us, at least until I’ve spoken to Kingsley.”

He pulls her towards him, “Well in that case, I think I need one more”, he smirks just before he kisses her again.

Arriving at the first house, Draco is taken back by how readily he can feel the dark magic, the coldness creeping over him is reminiscent of when their home was occupied by death eaters. Just like his mother warned him, he could feel it trying to coax him in. He’s not sure how curse breakers crack these types of cases, but the only way he’s been shown was to tap into the magic, let it speak to you. Not a problem when you were fighting, even if reluctantly, on the dark side. Darkness spoke to other darkness like an old friend, but it treated any kind of light as the enemy and sought to infect it with its poison. He’d need to occlude, hide away the light he’d been working months on, and most importantly he’d need to be quick.

The first house was relatively simple, his dark mark acted as a key to the wards surrounding it and once in he was able to decipher which spells had been used. Thankfully it didn’t take too long, and within thirty minutes the house was free and ready to be repaired.

The two Aurors on site were relatively impressed, the builders pleased and Hermione was simply beaming with pride. His relief was two fold, he’d done it and the darkness hadn’t seemed to affect him.

He’d managed to complete two more before they took a break for lunch. The minute they sat down Hermione bombarded him.

“How are you doing? Are you feeling ok? It’s alright if you need to stop, you know, three in one day is amazing.”

“I’m fine, we can continue. I’m just glad to be helping.” And he was, it felt good to be doing something, using his magic outside of his library. And for complex spells too. He’d felt a stronger pull at the last house, but he felt sure that he could continue if he kept his speed and occlumency up.

The fourth house proved more tricky. Just getting passed the wards took the same time the other houses had taken in total. Once inside more problems arose, the curses were not only stronger but tangled. He suspected that a higher ranking death eater had been the one to cast them. By the time he’d unravelled the last one, he could feel the sweat beading on his temples.

Hermione passed him a drink and some chocolate.

“Lupin would always give Harry chocolate after dealing with dark magic, said it helped,” she answered to his curious look.

He took it, knowing that she meant well, but it wasn’t going to help. Being attacked by dark magic was one thing, but having it seep in and entwine with your own was entirely different. Still the sugar would help with his energy levels.

“Mr Malfoy, are you happy to continue on to the next house or would you like to stop for today.” He saw the hopeful look in the Aurors' eyes, and as much as he knew he should probably stop, the dark magic had started to eek into his thoughts. It preyed on his need to prove himself, to show he was no longer who he was, to show he was a strong wizard capable of achieving things many others couldn’t. It urged him to continue.

“Let’s keep going”, he agreed, avoiding Hermione’s concerned gaze.

The next house was much the same as the last, in fact it was almost identical, which aided him in getting it finished that little bit quicker. However, he could feel the distinct coolness encompassing him, could feel the anger, the bitterness, the self importance, begin to take over. The need to stop was diminishing, the darkness wanted more.

“Draco, I really think we should call it a day now. No one was expecting this much to be done in a day, let alone on your first day. I can see the last two have taken their toll on you, let’s just get you home, yeah?” Her tone was caring, her face gentle and concerned.

“NO!”, he sneered. “I’ll say when I’ve had enough, alright. I’m the one here who has the knowledge and experience with this, I’m the only one who knows how it’s affecting me. And it’s not, but if you’re done for the day, I’m sure one of these guys would be more than fine to escort me back and lock up my wand.” His voice was cold, dismissive, much like how his father’s had been. He could see she was taken aback by how he’d just spoken, but he found little in him to care, he just wanted, and somewhat needed, to get to the next house.

“Draco, please -“ she was interrupted, the Auror in question oblivious to the conversation going on.

“If you're ready Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger. This next one will be the last, the Ministry hasn’t provided any more locations and port keys after that for today. We have to say Mr Malfoy, we’ve been rather impressed by your skills and determination today. I dare say we could do with a curse breaker like yourself working with the Aurors in the future.”

“I’m ready, not so sure Granger here is up for another one though. Doesn’t appear to have the stomach for it”, he scoffs with a dismissive shake of his head.

“I’m more than fine to come Malfoy. Ready when you are.” He felt the attitude in which she spoke his name, he wasn’t surprised. He’d spoken to her harshly and had reverted to calling her Granger. A small part of him knew it wasn’t right, the tiniest spark of light was trying to fight back but it wasn’t strong enough. Instead he just shrugged his shoulders, muttered “whatever” and reached for the port key.

The final house was the worst by far. From outside everything looked fine, you couldn’t tell anything was wrong with it, but the wards were strong. Hermione had been warned by the Aurors not to approach the wards until they’d been dismantled. Three muggleborns and a half blood had already been injured when attempting to check over the property. Draco approached confidently, he felt something almost calling him, pulling him in. He knew instantly that it was a blood ward, one of Bella’s. Dangerous for anyone that wasn’t her or of her blood, particularly lethal to those not ‘pure’. He brought his wand up and cast a simple slicing charm on his hand. He offered up his now bloodied palm, whilst speaking the Black family motto.

“Toujours pur.”

The wards fell instantly, revealing a mangled shell of a home and awfully pungent aroma. The darkness recognised him and welcomed him in. It took no time at all to get this one sorted, knowing exactly who had been the one to cause the damage and the types of curses and charms they specifically would use had been a great advantage. It didn’t matter how quickly he’d gotten it done though, Bella’s magic was unlike anything else. It had corrupted the light that had been valiantly trying to keep him from going under. The joy he’d felt at kissing Hermione this morning had long faded, Bella’s darkness sneering at his memories, tormenting him. Even in death she still managed to get in his head. He knew a migraine was coming, and he needed to get home and away from everyone before it did.

Hermione must have seen something in his face, as instead of waiting for the port key, she shouted their goodbyes and apparated him back to the Manor. He wrenched himself away from her the minute they arrived and headed towards the gates, his head pounding, his vision blurring at the edges.

“Draco.” He couldn’t talk to her, not like this, he started to stumble faster down the drive.

“Stop!” Her voice felt like screams in his head, screams he’d heard before. Screams that haunted his nightmares. He needed her to leave.

“Just go, Hermione. Leave”, he yelled. He was almost to the door, almost in the clear, until he heard her again.

“Please!” She cried.

It was too much. The memories. The pain. The darkness. It overtook him and he collapsed against the door.

Chapter 9 Chapter Text

April 1999

His head feels cloudy and he can hear a muffled clicking sound. He tries to turn towards it, but gasps from the pain radiating from his head.

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re awake, you gave us quite the scare,” he hears the clicking come closer before he feels the bed dip as his mother sits herself on the edge as she tenderly strokes the hair off of his face.

“Mippy”, the elf appears at once. “Draco is awake, please kindly fetch his migraine potions. Oh, and some of Miss Granger's special tea too.” Mippy nods and disappears, too eager to help than to verbally respond.

“What”, he attempts to ask, “what happened?”

“You did too much. Miss Granger told me that you’d worked on six houses. Six houses Draco, I told you not to overdo it.”

“What else did she tell you?”

“Only that she’d first suggested you stop after 3, but you, stubborn fool that you are, insisted on continuing. She also told me that she noticed you decline after the fourth and then fifth house, but still didn’t listen to her advice to stop. Instead you snapped at her and belittled her in front of the Auror’s, after their glowing praise of your efforts. She couldn’t tell me much about the last house, only that it seemed to take over you and that it was rather quick. And that after, after you got this vacant, cold expression in your eyes. Thankfully she was able to get you out of there and quickly home, well to the grounds at least. She’s frightfully worried about you Draco, I’ve had no less than ten owls asking over you.”

“How long have I been out?”

“Five days.”

“Fi - five days.”

“It’s been your worst episode since, well since the end of the war, since before she died. What on earth happened at that last house.”

“It was one of hers. Bella’s. She’d sealed it with a blood ward. Granger was right, it was quicker than the others as I knew her MO, but her magic on top of what I’d already exposed myself to, I - “ he couldn’t finish.

“It’s ok, my darling. I know. Mippy will be up shortly with your potions, you still need to rest. I should let Miss Grang -”

“No, don’t”, he quickly interrupts.

“Why ever not, she’ll be wanting to know?”

“Because I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be what they want from me, what she wants of me. One sniff at some dark magic and I was back there, being him again. I could feel it, still can, festering away at me. Calling on me, suffocating me. I’ve been kidding myself, I should be in Azkaban with the rest of them.”

“Oh Draco, no. You did too much is all. Please, after some more rest you’ll feel differently I’m sure of it.”

He has no energy to fight, he simply closes his eyes and lets his mother slip out of his room without another word.

Ignoring her son’s request, she heads to her parlour and sends word to Hermione anyway. She writes that he’s finally awake, but is not out of the woods yet. To perhaps leave it a few more days before reaching out to him directly, but she was more than welcome to continue their correspondence and she’d answer as soon as she could.

Hermione, I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me, but it hasn’t worked. I actually thought for a while that it might.

Talking with you, holding you and even kissing you was more than I ever could have hoped for. It was a happiness I’d never thought possible, especially after everything I’ve done.

But, I’ll forever be tainted, marked and poisoned by dark magic. I should’ve been kept locked away like the rest of them.

You are a beautiful, bright shining light Hermione and I’d never forgive myself for casting a shadow over you, for dulling your glow, for dragging you down to the depths of the darkness shrouding me. You deserve more than me, more than this pitiful death eater.

Please inform the ministry that I’m unable to help any further and that I no longer wish to continue with this sentence. I’ll await the transfer to Azkaban.

Goodbye Hermione

He’d not waited to see if she read his final note, he simply took the book and placed it in the small vault in his office. The vault was sound proof, so he wouldn’t hear any alerts from her, no doubt trying to talk him round. It would be no use.

Grabbing a bottle of Ogdens, he slumped into his chair and took a large swig. He was torn between wanting to make sure the business affairs were in order before his inevitable return to Azkaban or numbing the pain away in a drunken stupor whilst he still could. He settled on a mix of the two, rewarding himself with a large gulp for every signed mandate, a quick swig for every letter written. He was just managing to hold it together when he felt it. The light vibration from his signet ring. He’d forgotten all about the charm and was now stuck for he couldn’t remove the charm for as much as he could remove the ring. Centuries old magic inscribed into it allowed for it only to be removed upon death or a life sentence, which is how it became his to bear. He finally gave up and necked the bottle, the booze finally winning the battle.

His ring continued to pulse throughout the day, driving Draco to drink more and more, until finally his hands were trembling so much he didn’t notice the ring. He was aware however of his mothers disapproving look when he stumbled into dinner that evening.

“Looks like you’ll be dealing with a different kind of headache tomorrow. I do wish you wouldn’t do this to yourself, it doesn’t achieve anything.”

“On the contrary, I’ve achieved blissful numbness.”

The next few days passed in the same manner. He’d wake and drink until he couldn’t feel anything.

On the third day, Narcissa had had enough.

“How long do you plan to keep up your ‘numbness’?”

“Till they drag me back to Azkaban.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Because I told Granger I didn’t want to help anymore, or continue on wasting her time. I’m done with the sentence, they can lock me up.”

“And what did she have to say about that?”

“I don’t know.”

She sighs, “Draco, where’s your notebook?”

He ignores the question, pushing the food around his plate.

“Draco, I will not ask you again.”

He drops the cutlery on his plate and pushes his chair back from the table, the legs scratching the floor with the forceful manoeuvre. Just before he exits the door, Narcissa raises her voice towards him.

“You leave me no choice”, she mutters a quick charm, her wand moving in a beautifully fluid motion. A small trail appears in front of her guiding her out of the room towards his office, the trail ends inside, a small globe of light blinking outside of the safe. Placing her wand and palm on the safe, she opens it to find his notebook sitting right on top.

“Mother, don’t please”, he begs from the entryway.

“I had no intention of reading it, I merely wanted to check you had not destroyed it. However I urge you to read it Draco, you owe it to Miss Granger at least.” She walked towards him and held it out to him, “Just take a look, it’s all I’m asking. Goodnight.”

The notebook felt heavy in his hands, he couldn’t look. Not now at least, instead he headed to bed, placing it on his night stand before passing out on top of the covers.

He awoke to the all too familiar sound of a new message. Opening his eyes, the events from last night caught up with him. His mothers attitude with his drunken state, her locating the notebook, her pleading with him to read it.

His eyes fell to it, on top sat a vial of hangover draft which he greedily swallowed down. Taking a deep breath he opened the book to find pages of unread messages.

I don’t accept that Draco. I was with you on that Saturday, I saw how much you’ve grown. It has worked, it has.

Sunday was just too much, if you want to stop with the houses that’s fine, more than. Kingsley will understand, people will understand. But don’t give up on your sentence, on yourself.

Don’t give up on me. On us, please.

Just talk to me, please.

I’m worried about you Draco.

Don’t do this, don’t shut me out.

Please just let me know how you are.

The messages continued on in the same way, pleading with him to answer, to let him know he was alright, to not give up.

He couldn’t answer them. She might be worried now, but she’ll soon realise he wasn’t worth her time.

After a week the notebook went silent, but the messages didn’t stop. Instead they arrived via Narcissa, he still wasn’t allowed to receive personal owls, so she worked around it by sending them to his mother instead.

“Draco, this is ridiculous, just answer the poor girl. There’s only so much I can tell her. She cares for you. I thought you cared for her too, but it seems I was mistaken.”

She hands him the owl, still sealed. “I’m not leaving until you’ve opened and read it, if that means I have to follow you around all day so be it. “

Reluctantly he opens the scroll, his eyes scanning her writing quickly.

Draco,

I can see that you’ve been reading my messages, I’d hoped by now you may have responded.

I can’t say I understand, because you won’t tell me truly what it is that’s going on with you.

I’d like to think by now that I know you, and I know you don’t want to go back to Azkaban. You’ve been enjoying our discussions on the muggle world, you had fun at the footy and enjoyed the company of the muggles at the pub. So I don’t believe for a second it has anything to do with that.

Something happened on that Sunday, I could see how you changed over the day. You need to talk to someone about it. I had rather hoped you could trust me enough to do that.

I’ve told Kingsley that it was difficult on you and that you’d need time if you returned to more, if any, and he understood. I have not yet told him about you wanting to give up on your sentence, and I’m not going to. Not until you talk to me at least.

I really hope to hear from you soon Draco.

I’ll be waiting

Hermione

He stared down at the parchment, his shoulders slumped. Guilt washed over him for how he was treating her, but he knew he wasn’t good enough for her, she was better off without him. She’d get that he was serious eventually, he just had to keep up ignoring her.

A further week passed with owls arriving daily, all saying the same thing.

Talk to me Draco, please.

Let me know you’re ok.

Don’t do this, don’t give up.

He was wallowing in his office when Mippy arrived.

“Master Draco, Professor Slughorn is waiting for you in the Library.”

“Tell him I’m unwell.”

“I’m afraid I can’t, Mistress Narcissa has demanded you attend your lessons. You missed the last two weeks but you are not to miss this one. She said to tell you that if she has to she will happily drag you there herself.” Her defiant tone wasn’t a surprise to Draco, she often sided with his mother when it came to his well being.

He sighed in defeat and headed to the library. Once there Slughorn proceeded with his usual demeanour and lesson plan, not noticing anything different in his student. It was a nice distraction and Draco could even admit to feeling slightly more positive at the end of it. That is until Slughorn handed him a note.

“I was asked to pass this on to you, dear boy. Seemed rather important, so I was happy to oblige. See you next week.” He stepped into the floo and was gone, leaving Draco holding on to a small folded note. He knew who it was from straight away, her particular style of writing was as well known to him now as his own.

I miss you

f*ck! He missed her too, more than anything. Their routine of good morning and good night, everyday without fail. Their arguments over the best potion ingredients, shared theories on rune translations, discussions on muggle literature. He missed it all, but none more so than their flirty banter. He wanted nothing more than to reply, but he had to stay on track. He had to protect her from him, he wasn’t strong enough to fight it, to fight the pull from the darkness. Feeling a headache coming on he retreated to his room, not leaving even when Narcissa called upon him for dinner.

Another week passed, when Draco woke to bright sunlight streaming through his curtains. He decided he should really take a look at the paperwork that had been building up in his office. Having thought he’d be whisked off to Azkaban at some point over the last three weeks, he’d neglected to sort through any of the mail that had arrived.

He’d been at it for a few hours when he asked Mippy to bring him some tea and biscuits. The paperwork was frightfully boring and he needed some sugar to get him through what remained. With his head down reading through a rather complex request, he thought nothing of the footsteps he heard, thinking it was Mippy bringing his tea. However when they stopped and he couldn’t see any tray in his peripheral vision, he looked up to find a set of beautiful brown eyes staring down at him.

Chapter 10 Chapter Text

“Hello Draco”, she smiles down at him.

“Hermione, what, what are you doing here?”

“Narcissa told me you’d be in here”, she shrugs.

Too many thoughts run through his brain. She’s here, in front of him. And Merlin, did she look good. But she’s here, in his home. What the f*ck! And his mother knew and helped her find him. And hold on, did she say ‘Narcissa’!

“Not here as in my office, here as in here”, his hands gesturing wildly in an attempt to indicate he meant the Manor as a whole.

“Oh, well, you weren’t answering me and I was really worried about you. Narcissa kept me updated after you collapsed and she’s been kind enough to answer my owls but it’s not the same as talking to you. So, I decided to come to you. I apparated to the gate, knocked on the door and then your mum led me here.” He could see a slight tremble in her hands as she spoke, her nervous tone reminding him of when she first spoke to him all those weeks ago.

“However, despite my usual abundance of Gryffindor tendencies, I’m finding my initial bravery to be depleting somewhat.”

“Here”, he nods his head towards the back wall, “we can head to the gardens.” As he approaches a hidden door reveals itself and they step out onto a small patio that opens up onto the main garden. He hears her take several deep breaths, before she begins to speak again.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful out here.”

“What do you want from me, Hermione? I thought I made myself quite clear, I can’t do this anymore. I’m not who you think I am. I’m not worth your time.” His voice is quiet and subdued.

“Can you start by looking at me?” Other than when he first clocked her standing over his desk, he hasn’t dared look her in the eye again. “Please.” Slowly he raises his gaze from the ground, what he sees threatens to stop his heart. Her compassion radiates from her, her eyes soft and warm, her smile kind and understanding.

“I need you to give me today, that’s all I’m asking. Let me show you that you’re wrong, that you are who I think you are, that you are worth more than just my time. If at the end of today you still want to throw it all in, then I’ll respect your wishes and send your request to the Ministry.”

“I suppose I owe you that at least.”

“Alright then, let’s go”, she holds out her hand, her expression hopeful that he’d take it. Unable to resist, he reaches out their fingers gently entwining. He can feel his resolve slipping, it was a mistake to touch her. The part of him wanting to protect her from him knows he should let go, not give her the wrong impression. But the rest of him, Circe the rest of him is screaming at him to never let her go.

“Where are we going?” he asks as they walk beyond the wards.

“You’ll see”, she responds just before he feels the pull of apparition.

They land in a lane that seems vaguely familiar, but he can’t place it. In the distance he can make out what appears to be a small village, with several houses dotted on the lane along the way. Hermione is pulling him in the opposite direction, approaching a beautiful cottage. The gate is a glowing sunshine yellow standing out amongst the cobblestone wall surrounding the property. Looking down the path, he can see that the front door matches the gate, and is surrounded with what he thinks is honeysuckle growing up from each side twisting together as it meets at the top. He stops to take another look around, and that’s when it hits him. They were at the last house, the one Bella had practically decimated. The difference in the building and the feeling surrounding it is immense.

“Why did you bring me here?” the panic evident is his voice.

“The family is getting it back today. Kingsley and I both thought it would be good for you to see it restored and what it means for the family to be home again.”

“I, I can’t see them. I was part of what destroyed their home in the first place. They don’t need to see me, this is a terrible idea Hermione. Please, let’s go before they come.”

“Draco, listen to me. You did not destroy their home. You saved it. Surely you can see that.”

“No, what she did - “

“She, Draco, she. She did this. Not you. Just because you share blood with a sad*stic lunatic, doesn’t make you one too. And just because you were forced into being one of them, doesn’t mean you’re responsible for everything they did. What you achieved the other week was nothing short of magnificent. The spells you unravelled were complex and deeply tangled. In the debrief from the Aurors, there was nothing but praise for the skill and restraint you showed in dealing with the dark magic. I know that it got to you, I could see it. I still see it, but it doesn’t mean you can’t beat it. I once told you I had faith in you Draco, that’s not waivered. I just need you to have a little in me now, and trust that I think this will help.”

He’s struggling to hold it together. This amazing witch was fighting for him, even when he’d given up on himself. Desperate for him to put his faith in her, just like she had him. It was dangerous and against his plan, but looking at her, he just couldn’t help it. He nodded his agreement, just as a group appeared not far from where they first arrived.

“Do they know it’s me?”, he asked quietly.

“They know that someone with prior associations with death eaters aided with the recovery, but not specifically that it was you,” she answers with an encouraging smile.

“Will you stay?”

“Of course”, she replies, placing her hand in his. He tries to let go, Kingsley and the family could clearly see them as they rapidly approach the house. “It’s fine, I’ve spoken with him. I’ll tell you more later.”

He relaxes slightly and she squeezes her hand against his in reassurance. They can hear the Minister address the family as they approach.

“As you can see, the repair work has now been finished, everything was put back as close as possible with the memories you provided, with a small alteration. With the remarkable funding we received we were able to add some additional bedrooms and larger living spaces for when the twins arrive at no cost to you.”

“Minister, we don’t know how to thank you. After everything that happened, it was so important for us to remain together. My wife and I want nothing more than to be able to be there for our son and daughter in law in this new chapter of their lives.”

“Well I’m afraid I can't take the credit.” Kingsley shakes his head and gestures towards Hermione and Draco.

“Hermione, Draco, thank you for meeting us here. This is the Clarks, John, Liz, their son Lewis and his wife Jenny.” Turning to address the Clarks, “This is Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, the wizard who single handedly removed the dark curses on your home. Draco, here has been working on a rehabilitation sentence, with the help of Hermione and when hearing about our plight, offered his unique skills in helping with restoring the homes marked during the war. He has also very generously donated financially to the cause, encouraging many other wealthier families to follow in his footsteps.”

“In that case, Mr Malfoy we are forever in your debt. This isn't just a house to us, it’s our home. Liz and I, we scraped every knut and sickle we could, until we were finally able to purchase this little cottage. It was always Liz’s dream to find our forever home, a place to start our lives together, a place to bring home our son and watch him grow, a place to eventually grow old and grey in. The night the raids started, we were devastated as we fled our home thinking we’d never be able to return. But you son, you’ve made it possible, you’ve brought us home, brought us peace and happiness beyond anything. Thank you, thank you.” Mr Clark offers his hand to a stunned Draco, who carefully puts out his own for the man’s to shake. He’s taken aback by how John pulls him into an embrace and places three sharp claps on his shoulder. The move is copied by Lewis, before Liz, forgoes the handshake and moves straight for a hug. Finally a very emotional Jenny flings herself into his arms, the best she can with her bump getting in the way, her tears falling on to his shirt and she whispers her gratitude over and over.

“Shall we take a look inside?” Suggests Kingsley after picking up signals from Hermione to rescue Draco for the emotional clutches of the Clarks.

The family head down the path, oohing and seeing over every detail and once they step through the threshold of the front door, Hermione turns to him and tries to gauge his emotions.

“So, how are you feeling?”

“I, I,”, he stutters unable to find the words. His hand runs through his hair, tugging on it as he turns to face her, a lone tear falling down his cheek.

“Oh, Draco, come let’s get you some place else.”

When they arrive, Hermione gently pushes him into a well loved arm chair, before heading off out of sight. She returns after a few minutes and holds out a mug of tea, his hands trembling, he grips it tightly before taking a sip. He doesn’t recognise the blend, but enjoys its gentle floral and minty taste, instantly feeling a sense of calm wash over him.

“It’s another one of my creations, helps with panic attacks or when I’m feeling overwhelmed, part chamomile tea, part calming draught.”

“It’s good, certainly working.”

“Did you want to talk about it?”

Standing up, he shakes his head, not wanting to be sat under her gaze. He walks around the room, taking in the books piled by the end of the sofa, the knick knacks decorating the fireplace, the muggle and wizarding photographs adorning the walls and an unmistakable ball of orange fluff sitting on the window sill.

“You brought me to yours?” he questions, the wonderment clear in his voice.

“We’re safe here, alone from prying eyes or ears, but if you’d rather return home, I can take you. It’s just you wouldn’t be free to leave again until next month or -”

“No, here’s good, more than. I told you before I’d like to see where you live.”

“Well, this is it. My home, care for a tour?”

He nods eagerly and receives a beaming smile back from her. They start upstairs, Hermione explaining how the bedrooms and bathrooms don’t really differ that much from wizarding homes, so there wasn’t much to show him. Her own room is modest, pale blues and creams, more books piled beside the bed and on the desk. She walks them past her parents room, telling him she hasn’t been able to go in since their passing, before heading back down stairs.

He’s enthralled with the kitchen and asks for a demonstration of all the appliances, which results in them making a mountain of various snacks and drinks, from smoothies and popcorn, to cheese toasties and fizzy drinks. They settle in front of the telly and Draco happily gets lost in the football for the rest of the afternoon.

When the sun starts to dip in the sky, Draco’s interest in the telly wanes as the football ends making way for some random quiz show he doesn’t understand. He fidgets on the sofa, attempting to brush orange hairs from his trousers. He knows he should try and at least talk to her, try to explain how feels, but he doesn’t know where to start. Thankfully it appears Hermione has noticed and once again rescues him.

“Draco, I know somethings going on, and I desperately want to help you, but I don’t think I’m the person you need.”

His head quickly turns to hers, her statement having both hurt and stunned him.

She takes his face tenderly in her hands, “Don’t misunderstand me. As much as I want to be the one who helps you, I actually think you’d do better if you saw a mind healer. It should’ve been part of your sentence right from the beginning. What you went through, and are still going though, was traumatic and stressful, for your body, your mind and particularly your magic. That family today though, their happiness, that came from you and what you were able to achieve. Yes, it affected you, but that’s where a healer could help. You’ve done so well with everything we’ve done, you just need to take this final step. You deserve to move on from it Draco, you’ve just got to believe that for yourself.” She places a tender kiss on his forehead before standing up and pulling him with her.

“We should head back, it’s been a lot and you’ve got lots to think about, so -“

“I -“

“Don’t, not now, take some time.” And with that she apparates them back to the gates and walks him through.

“Good night Draco.”

“Do I want to ask how it went today with Hermione?” His mother asks once he’s settled in the chair opposite hers.

“I don’t know what I’ve done but somehow I’ve gotten myself the support of the most incredible witch I’ve ever met. After everything, she still believes in me. She knows everything I did, she saw what the dark magic did to me, put up with me ignoring her for weeks and still she showed up here. Here! The place where she was tortured, just to make sure I was ok, to show me I’m not who I was. That I’m someone worth it. Someone worth her affection.”

“And you are my dragon, you just need to believe it.”

“That's exactly what she said.”

“Did she also mention a mind healer?”

“Yeah, I take it you agree?”

“I do, in fact she’s convinced me to see one myself. I’ve got my second appointment tomorrow afternoon.”

“I thought you’d both been talking, she referred to you as ‘Narcissa’ earlier.”

“We’ve become quite well acquainted these past few weeks. I’ve found myself looking forward to her owls.”

They sat silently together nursing their firewhisky, before Draco decided to head to bed. It had been a long, emotional day, one that had woken him up what he needed to do. As he walked towards the door, he turned back towards Narcissa.

“Will you owl your healer for me?”

“I shall do it now and see if they can see you after me tomorrow. Can I ask what changed your mind?”

“I met a family today.” She nods in encouragement to continue. “The Clarks, their home was the one Bella had cursed. I saw the house, how it had been repaired. Saw the Minister. He told them it was all me. They thanked me. Shook my hand. Hugged me. I felt something. My magic, it felt lighter. It felt good. I want to help more, but to do that I need help dealing with what it does to me, what it’s done to me.”

“I’m proud of you son.”

Hey

The response was instant.

So, I’ve got some things to say, it may take me a while to get it all out.

I’m not going anywhere

Firstly, I’m sorry, I’m so f*cking sorry for how I’ve been this past month.

You’re right I need help. Mother’s getting me an appointment tomorrow.

I realised today that I don’t want to give up Hermione. Seeing that family, it’s the first time in a long time that I’ve felt that I’ve done something good, something worthwhile. Something I could be proud of.

And seeing you, f*ck Hermione, I knew I missed you, but seeing you Circe, did it hit me hard. Not once today did you look at me with anything but kindness. I’ve been a right prat to you, ignoring you, wallowing in a pit of despair, and there you were facing your own demons, just to help me fight mine. You’re amazing, Hermione, truly and most brilliantly amazing.

So, what are you saying?

What I’m trying to say is that I want to continue with my sentence and I want to continue helping.

That's wonderful Draco.

But I want more than that.

Oh?

I want you Hermione. So much.

After everything, do you still want me?

Yes Draco. Yes I still want you.

Thank Merlin

I just wish I didn’t waste today and didn’t have to wait another month to see you again

You don’t.

?? Our excursions are only allowed once per month.

Exactly, once per month, not a month apart.

Next weekend just happens to be the start of May

Just like I said, ‘amazing’.

Chapter 11 Chapter Text

How did it go?

I don’t think I have the words. It was terrifying and raw, but also oddly freeing and calming. She’s given me a few techniques to help when I feel overwhelmed, and wants to see me twice a week.

Twice?

The first one is to work through the deeper stuff, the parts I’ve tried to occlude away. The other is for after I’ve worked on a few houses, a check up of sorts. I’ve been cleared to work on no more than two per week, then after I am to return home to work with her on some therapy exercises. She’s going to get my mother involved in them too, in the hope that once I have a few sessions I could do it without her, but have my mother as a back up if needed.

That sounds great, I’m so proud of you. Would you like me to let Kinsgley know?

Please

Speaking of Kingsley, he asked me to find out if you wanted to attend the memorial next Sunday.

I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, there'll be a lot of people there unhappy to see me.

I understand, but before you dismiss it completely, perhaps discuss it with Narcissa or your healer.

I can’t promise it will change my mind, but I will talk to them about it.

With the memorial on the Sunday, it does however mean we are free on the Saturday to meet up, if you still want to that is?

Now that’s an invitation I’d be crazy to refuse. Where will we go?

I have a surprise planned, don’t worry I think you’ll love it.

I can’t wait.

You never told me what Kingsley said about us

Oh, well, surprisingly he wasn’t all that surprised. Apparently I’ve become rather animated and enthusiastic when filling him in on your progress. He did say it wasn’t an ideal situation given my position in deciding your outcome, however he would let it slide given how well you’d been doing up until this point and knowing that I can compartmentalise when necessary.

That seems fair, I was worried he’d not approve or even appoint someone else to me.

He knows I would’ve fought him on it, he did put some restrictions on us though.

Which are?

Our excursions still need to be based in the muggle world and have relevance to what I have been teaching you about. I’ve got to provide a plan for our next 4 meetings, all of which need approval.

Ok, anything else?

Yeah, I’m not allowed to accompany you when you visit the houses, as it could be seen to the others on the same sentencing that you’re getting preferential treatment and additional outside time with your girlfriend.

Girlfriend, hey? Hmm, I rather like the sound of that.

Standing at the gates early Saturday morning, Draco is surprised to hear the crunch of the gravel and somewhat of a rumbling roar approaching from the distance. As the noise gets louder he can see a black car being driven by none other than Hermione. She pulls to a stop and jumps out, with the door open he can hear music coming from inside.

“In all the discussions we had about muggle vehicles, never once did you tell me that you could drive Granger.”

“Well, surprise!”, she laughs. “Get in, we’ve got to get going if we’re going to make our first activity on time.”

As he gets in, she leans over him and pulls a long belt from behind his shoulder.

“This is your seat belt, muggle law dictates that you need to wear it, safety and all that.” She informs as she buckles him in.

“And here I was thinking I was about to get a proper good morning.”

“Oh, good morning,” she chuckles, reaching forward again to place a quick kiss to his lips. Before he has time to respond she’s placing her own belt on and starting the engine.

“I don’t call that a proper good morning.”

“Well it will have to do for now, we can’t be late. There’s a tea for you in the cup holder and a pastry in that bag.”

“We’re here”, chirps Hermione enthusiastically, as she jumps out of the car.

Following her movements Draco does the same. “And where is here?”, he asks looking round for any clues to where their road trip had taken them. Hermione held back on any particulars of where they were going, wanting to keep it a surprise. Instead of bugging her, he’d entertained himself with the radio in the car and watching the traffic pass by the window. He’d been fascinated at how she’d manoeuvred the vehicle, turning the wheel, pressing the pedals, and moving something she’d called a gear stick. He’d begged for a go, but she’d explained that unless he’d gotten at least a provisional licence he’d have to remain in the passenger seat.

Walking towards what appeared to be an entrance, she pulled him along excitedly, waiting until they were in full view of the track before responding.

“Well, you may not be able to drive a car without a licence, but you can have a go in go kart”, gesturing to the little vehicles whizzing round a circuit.

“Seriously, this is what we’re doing today! Bring on Granger, bring - it - on!”

She laughed as they moved towards the registration area. They signed in, had their briefing and moved out to the track. It took Draco a few laps to get used to the controls, but once he had there was no stopping him. His skills on a broom easily transferred to control the kart and he was soon leaving Hermione behind. After a few races, she bowed out to let some others have a turn, letting him stay on. She was desperate to watch him and wasn’t disappointed, his face was filled with pure thrill, taking tight corners in his stride and laughing when he managed to lap a few of the slower racers.

When the time came for them to leave, he was simply buzzing. “That was incredible Hermione! The adrenaline rush was so intense. When I fly it taps into my magic, it’s instinctual you know, I don’t have to think, but this, I was having to use every part of me to concentrate, every part of me felt alive.”

Caught up in his excitement she reached up on her toes and pulled him in for a kiss. It was nothing like the brief peck from earlier. No, this one was light and playful, a reflection on the mood they’d found themselves in.

Lunch was another new experience. Drive thru. They’d stopped on the way to the next activity, Draco, having gotten over the use of hands only eating, thoroughly embraced the idea of a little window passing though their food and eating in their seats.

“Are you sure there’s no magic involved here, that’s the fastest service we’ve had at any of the muggle places we’ve been to?”

“I’m sure, it’s just how the business model works, ‘fast food’ is a multi billion pound industry. It’s not always the best food, but it’s convenient and lets us be on our way much faster”, she winks as she starts the engine and pulls out of the car park.

“Am I allowed to know where we're heading now?”

“Nope, instead you can occupy yourself with what's in there”, indicating towards the glove box.

Intrigued he pulls out the envelope resting on top of a large slightly crumpled book and a pile of napkins. Inside it he finds what she told him muggles use instead of quills and ink, a pen he thinks, and a set of forms.

“It’s an application for a provisional driving licence, if you apply for it now it should come in time for the end of your sentence. Then if you wanted to you could learn how to drive. I suspect you’d want to do one of the intensive courses, they promise you can pass in just a week.”

He doesn’t answer, instead she just hears the gentle scratching of the pen across the pages as he eagerly fills out his details.

They’d spent the afternoon at an aviation museum, continuing the transport theme for the day. He’d been sceptical about how some of the larger planes were able to get into the air and mercilessly grilled Hermione about how she wouldn’t fly on a broom, yet she’d happily get in a giant metal contraption with no magic and feel safer. She promised to have a deeper conversation with him about how it worked another day, and flat out refused his offer to teach her to fly.

Dinner followed at a pub where they continued to playfully banter until he finally plucked up the courage to let her know his decision.

“I’m not coming tomorrow. I appreciate the offer the Minister gave me, but it doesn’t feel right. Those who survived, those who are still affected, those grieving, they don’t need me there as a reminder.”

“You’re not who you were this time last year, you’ve changed, you’re redeeming yourself. I think it’s important for people to see that.”

“I’m not done though. I’ve not finished with the curses and I’m still under sentencing. Maybe one day, when I feel I’ve done enough I’ll join you, but right now it’s just too soon.”

“Ok, I can respect that.” Standing from their table, she pulls him up out of his seat. “Come on, let’s get going, we’ve got one more activity left for today.”

“But I didn’t even get dessert”, he protests, reluctantly following her out of the pub.

“Don’t worry, our next stop should satisfy even your sweet tooth.”

“I’ll take a packet of maltesers, skittles, minstrels, m&m’s both chocolate and peanut, a large sweet popcorn and an extra large slushie please. Oh, did you want anything Hermione?”

“Err, a regular salted popcorn and diet co*ke thanks”, she laughs.

Grabbing their mountain of snacks they head towards the theatre, Hermione had picked out one of the lesser popular choices, so that if Draco had questions he wouldn’t be disturbing the other movie goers.

“Right, our seats are up there”, pointing to the rows at the back. They shuffle along the aisle into a couple of seats in the corner, using one of the empty ones next to them to arrange the snacks.

Before long, the lights dim and the adverts begin.

“Is it meant to be this loud?”

“Yes.”

After the third advert he’d already declared his favourite snack, the minstrels closely followed by the skittles.

“Try mixing them with my popcorn”, she whispers, “there’s nothing quite like it.”

He immediately tries out the suggestion and moans in pleasure, the chocolate combining with salt sending his taste buds into overdrive. “And that’s why the sound is so loud, to hide everyone’s noises, be it from eating or erm, lets just say other activities.”

“Other activities? I thought we were here to watch a movie.”

“The cinema is a very popular date choice for muggles, dark room, close proximity. The back row is preferable, nobody behind watching over you.”

He looks behind them, then around at the almost empty theatre. No longer interested in his snacks, he moves fractionally closer whispering directly into her ear, “We’re on the back row.”

“Notice that did you?” she purrs, turning her head away from the screen, her tongue licking over the salt on her lips. The heat sparks between them drawing them closer but just as her lips brush his, a small group enter looking for their seats breaking the spell between them. They both turn back towards the front, neither really focussed on what’s happening on the giant screen.

After the new arrivals have settled, Draco turns back to her. He can just about make out the gentle flush to her cheeks and her slightly elevated breathing. Testing out to see how much he could affect her, his hand snakes down to hers which rested in her lap. As his fingers clasp around hers, they brush against her thigh and he sees rather than hears the small gasp fall from her chest. Satisfied, for now, he holds her hand tight in his and attempts to watch the movie.

Twenty minutes later, he’d certainly gotten the appeal of the larger screen over the telly to watch a movie, but today, the alluring witch next to him was far more appealing. He leans in to whisper for her attention, however as he moves closer he sees her pulse fluttering on her neck, just under ear, and instead his tongue sneaks out from between his lips and swipes along pulsating skin. He feels her hand twitch in his as her head tilts away from him in an invitation to explore more. And explore he does. Soft butterfly kisses along her jaw. Teasing flicks of his tongue down the taut skin of her neck. Hungry nibbles and bruising sucks on where her neck meets her shoulder.

Being closer, her gasp is audible this time, pulling back he sees the mark he’s left behind.

“sh*t, sorry, I got a bit carried away,” his hand escaping hers to brush against the blossoming bruise.

“I don’t mind but perhaps I should return the favour?” She rasps as she turns to look him in the eye, her teeth pulling her on her bottom lip.

Unable to resist, his hand still on her neck, he pulls her in before sucking on the lip where her teeth had just been. “Be my guest Granger,” he mumbles, baring his neck to her. When her mouth descends upon the same spot as her own mark, it’s his turn to let out a low moan. He can feel the sweet pressure of lips, the playful nipping of her teeth and it’s exquisite. He’d never allowed past partners to mark him so, but something about her claiming him, showing the world that he’s hers, well that was exceptionally thrilling.

She slowly made her way up his neck and along his jaw, her lips swallowing his groan as her hand slipped into his hair. Their lips stayed tangled throughout the rest of the film, occasionally parting to check their surroundings or to take in a quick breath.

“sh*t,” she breaths, her forehead leaning against his, “looks like we’re the last ones left!” She lets out a little giggle as she pulls away. He loves how swollen her lips are and is desperate to continue their activities, but she’s already standing and waiting for him to follow suit. As he stands he’s thankful for the looser and long line fit of his hoody, hiding his very obvious desire for her.

The drive back to the Manor was laced with tension and the moment she stopped the car down his lane, a little way back from the gate, he’d undone both their belts and had begun pulling her over the centre console.

“Get over here Granger”, he mutters, his voice hoarse with want. She goes willingly and lands in his lap, her thighs bracketing his. She shifts slightly and he can’t help the groan that escapes at the feel of it, of her, pressing temptingly against him.

Their lips crash together, more frantically than before. With the freedom of being alone, all reservations are dropped. His hands wander down from her waist, skimming over her hips, finally settling on her delectable bum. Ever since she’d mentioned it was her proudest body part, he’d been trying his best to recall it. He’d never really paid too much attention, school robes always covering the best bits, but having set sight on it after their first outing, he’d been dreaming of getting his hands on it and now that they were he couldn’t help but squeeze it beneath his palms. It was magnificent, she had every right to be proud, not too firm, just a little give, reminding him of a perfectly ripe peach.

Her hands had begun to work their way down his chest, pulling the zipper of his hoody with them. As she reaches the bottom, he feels her soft hands sneak under the hem of his tshirt and trail delicate patterns on his abdomen . He senses the faint sparks of magic buzzing under his skin with each touch. Drunk on the feeling rushing through him he pulls her down firmly, aligning their hips.

He’s thrilled at her reaction, clearly as gone as he was, grinding her core down against his arousal. Her pace started off tormentingly slow, gradually speeding up as his hand creeps under her shirt and swipes a pebbled nipple, first over the lace of her bra, then again against bare skin after he pulls down the cup for better access.

“Yes, Draco, f*ck…yes!”

“Merlin Granger, you’re so responsive,” his other hand had found its way to the dip in her lower back and was guiding her down with every twist of her hips. “You’re literally vibrating.”

“sh*t!” She hurries off of him and scrambles for the door handle. “That's not me,” she yelps, pulling them both out and towards the gate, “that’s my wand. I’d charmed it to alert me when it was one minute to midnight. You’ve got less than 60 seconds to get back within the wards, come on, hurry.”

They make it through the gate with barely a second to spare, both flustered, out of breath and slightly dishevelled from their interrupted explorations. They take one look at each other, each giggling with the madness of the situation.

Sensing the night was now over, he composed himself. “Today has been brilliant, the muggle world continues to entice me, almost as much as you do. I can’t wait for what you show me next. Good night Hermione.”

She blushes at his praise, “Good night Draco. Sleep well.”

She’s turning to walk back to her car when he dashes up behind her, catching her before she’s out of the wards. He can feel the warmth of her against his chest as he bends down to softly speak in her ear.

“Dream of me tonight Granger, dream of what might have happened tonight if that damn wand hadn’t gone off. Dream of where my lips have kissed you,” his lips dropping to his earlier mark.“Of where my fingers have teased you,” his fingers brushing over her nipples on the way down her body, hovering over the top of her jeans. “Of where they would've have touched you, of how good I would’ve made you feel.”

His hands move to her hips pulling her back onto his prominent desire. “But know this, as great as those dreams will be, the real thing Hermione, the real thing will be so much better.”With one final drag of his teeth against her neck, he smugly retreats back towards the Manor, desperate to get to the privacy of his room and avoid his mother.

Chapter 12 Chapter Text

So it turns out we needlessly ended our night early on Saturday.

I was talking to Susan at the memorial on Sunday. Did I tell you that she’s Goyle’s liaison?

No, go on…

Well we were discussing how things were going when I mentioned our close call last week.

Did you tell her why it was a close call?

No, you prat, I just said we’d got stuck in traffic. Anyway that’s when she told me that you actually get to be out of the wards for 24 hours, not just that actual day.

f*ck Hermione, that means that those dreams that have been both simultaneously haunting and exciting me, could’ve actually been glorious memories instead.

Haunting and exciting?

Yeah, aren’t yours?

Hmm, I’d agree they’re exciting, but I wouldn’t say haunted, more like ‘unsatisfying’ or ‘frustrating’ don’t you think?

Well yeah those too, by I’m haunted by just how close I came to

He stops, it was one thing to whisper little seductive hopes in her ear, but would she be a willing participant to read the very naughty things effortlessly running through his mind. The page begins to glow.

How close you came to what?

It doesn’t matter

Draco…

I’m not sure you’d want to hear it it

I do

You sure?

Yes, please just tell me what you would’ve done next if we hadn’t needed to stop

He tried to take a calming breath, but to no avail. He fidgets in his chair, his co*ck stirring just as it had done every time he thought back to that night. Here goes nothing, he can’t say he didn’t try and persuade her otherwise.

Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

I was seconds away from popping open those buttons on your shirt. The top one had almost come undone under the strain of your excited breaths, it wouldn’t have taken much to flick it open, giving me the first peak of that lace covering your tit*. It felt so soft under my hand, I’ve been dying to know what colour it was.

Will you tell me?

Blue

I hoped it would be, both my favourite and yours.

Then what

After the first few buttons I would’ve lost my patience and just ripped the rest open, determined to see how the blue lace sits upon your beautiful glowing skin. I’d get my fill before lowering the other cup, exposing both of your luscious tit* to my gaze, my lips would be desperate to get around the hard little nub I’d felt between my fingers.

nibbling

flicking

sucking

Then I’d be kissing my way across to the other side, eagerly going back and forth between the two.

Mmm, yes, keep going

His co*ck was at half mast now, throbbing against the zip of his jeans. He ignores the call to release himself, instead rather enjoying the torturous pressure the unforgiving denim fabric provides.

Whilst my lips and tongue continued to tease you, my hands would begin to explore.

Where?

I’ll tell you where if you promise to follow along, can you do that?

f*ck yes

Excellent, but first I need you to switch to a dictating quill, you’ll be needing both your hands free and I want to know how you respond

Ok, done

Well in that case, I’d start at your lips, tracing their shape, softly, slowly. I’d pull down on your bottom lip, unable to resist the delicious pout I’d made, I’d dip a finger into your mouth, my mind instantly in the gutter at how your tongue would tease me. Wanting to continue my explorations I’d begin to trail my hand down your neck, my thumb pressing into my mark before tracing little circles over your collar bone.

Unable to help myself any further, I’d trace down the valley between your breasts and flutter over to your unattended nipple, taking my time watching your skin twitch with the light touches before gently pulling at it a few times, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger.

You keeping up?

Gods yes

Good now give it one last hard tug as you move across to the other side and repeat.

Giving her a bit of time, he takes his own advice and switches quills.

Now slowly work your way down towards your jeans.

Mmmm

I’d have had to pull you up on your knees, needing room for what I’d wanted to do next. I’m not going to lie Granger, at this point I’d be insane for you and I’d waste no time in pulling down your jeans. Tell me, would I find that your knickers match your bra?

Yes

Do they match today too?

Always match

And that lace, it would’ve been wet right?

Mhmmm

Is it now?

Drenched

f*ck, I’m so hard right now, thinking about what I wanted to do then and what you’re doing now. I’m going crazy Hermione

Then join me.

Merlin, this witch was incredible.

By now I’d have had you shirtless, bite marks scattered over your neck and chest. Hearing how you reacted in the cinema when I bit your neck, set something off in me. Did it affect you as much as me?

I loved it, you can bite and claim me all you want.

You may come to regret that one day

Never

Like you I’d be keen to see what’s inside your jeans. Boxers or briefs?

Normally boxers, but under jeans I don’t wear any, they get too bunched up.

Hmmm, in that case my hands would already be wrapped around you, skin on skin. I’d use the glistening bead of precome, which if you’re anywhere near as turned on as you say you are, would be leaking out of the tip, to slide up and down your length. It would be painstakingly slow, at least until you’d touched me.

Unable to help himself now, he follows her direction. His co*ck bouncing out the second he lowers his fly. She’s right, the tip is leaking allowing his hand to glide at the pace she’s set him. He can’t wait for it to be her tiny hand trying to circle him and bring him to the brink. But for now he’s desperate to please her, to give her anything she wants.

I’d be only too happy to oblige. I want nothing more than to spend hours teasing every inch of your silky skin, but right now I don’t think either of us could handle it, so I’d head for where you need me. Starting outside your knickers, I’d use that soaked lace to create a delicious friction against your cl*t, first in circles then in figure of eights until your pleading me for -

More, please more

That’s it Granger, tell me what you need

Inside, I need your fingers inside

In the confined space and with no wand, I can’t remove your underwear so I’d settle for moving it aside, and ponder on how I could convince you to join me in the no underwear club.

Sensing your fervour I’d slip two fingers straight into your dripping c*nt and before I can even start moving, you’d be riding my hand, your own hand matching the rhythm around my co*ck.

Oh f*ck, Draco, I need more. My cl*t, another finger, just something please

I can’t deny you anything. I’d slip in another finger and as I curl them forward pushing on that magic little pleasure spot, I’d feel you clenching down on me. Gods, I can almost imagine it’s your tight little c*nt squeezing around my co*ck instead of your hand .

Gods yes, I’m so close, f*ck

Wanting to shatter you into pieces, I’d bring down my thumb to tap on your cl*t. I wouldn’t tease, you’d be beyond that now. No, I’d be keep my rhythm in line with your racing pulse, sharp and quick,

tap

over and over

again and again

and again

f*ck Draco

Yes, that’s it Granger, come for me, shout it out so I can see.

OH DRACO

YES

OHHHHHH!

f*ck!

He sat dazed, that definitely wasn’t how he expected this evening's conversation to go. It was crazy, intense and f*cking unbelievable. Would she ever stop amazing him? He certainly hoped not. He headed to the bathroom to clean up, it was moments like this he really missed his convenience of having a wand. Returning to bed and his notebook, he noticed she’d gone quiet. Worry began to creep in. Had it taken it too far, she’d certainly seemed to be enjoying herself. Perhaps she got caught up in it, never intending it to go where it did. Picking up his squill he scratched out a quick message.

Are you ok?

Mmhmm

You sure?

Mmhmm

I’m not feeling very convinced Hermione.

Look, if that was too much, if it went too far, I’m sorry, I just lose all sense of control when I think about you like that.

Don’t apologise, not for that

Just still very much coming down from that incredible high is all

Don’t tell me I rendered you temporarily speechless there Granger?

I don’t want to inflate your ego any further, but yeah, for a while there my whole body including my brain was mush.

It’s not my ego that’s inflating hearing that.

Seriously didn’t you just, you know

Yes, but I’m also 18, healthy and horny for my insanely gorgeous girlfriend! My refractory period is practically non-existent.

Hmm, good to know

The next few weeks their notebook was used exclusively to flirt, tease and pleasure each other. There had been no talk of their studies, his mind healing sessions, or even the latest set of houses he’d worked on. Nothing else had existed outside of their lust filled bubble.

I need to submit my plan for our next excursion. I was thinking we could combine it with your birthday. Is there anything you like to do for it?

I’d quite like to wake up next to you, you tucked up against my chest, my arms wrapped around you.

Ok, nothing else?

There’s lots of other things I’d like to do, but something tells me that's not what you’re asking?

After the last two weeks, I think I’ve got a pretty good idea what other things you mean, so you’re right, that wasn’t what I was asking.

I’m happy to let you take the lead, everything you’ve planned so far has been great.

What about Narcissa, will she want to spend time with you on your birthday?

Yeah, she’ll probably want to share at least a meal at some point on the actual day.

How about this then, I’ll come and get you for dinner on the friday night. You can sleep over at mine, wake up and spend the day together and then you can be back for a birthday dinner with your mum.

Sounds perfect.

June 1999

Can you believe our newts are in less than 4 weeks? Fair warning, I’ve already been studying quite rigorously, but after your birthday I’ll probably be a little absent until after our exams. My study schedule is rather intense.

That’s alright, at least I’ll get to see you more to make up for it.

What do you mean?

Slughorn told me today that they want me to sit my exams at Hogwarts. Him, or one of the other professors will collect me via floo and escort me to the exam room. I won’t be able to speak with you, or spend time with you, but I can certainly look at you. You’ll be in front of me too, so I’ll have the perfect excuse as to why I’m staring at your delectable rear.

You know we have to wear robes to the exams right?

Wrong! We get to wear what we like, all part of trying to make us more comfortable and let those of us like me sit more easily amongst the crowd and less likely to stand out.

I’m afraid with your hair colour, that just isn’t possible!

Haha! Still, I get to ogle your arse so it’s all good.

Prat!

You never did tell me how many you’re taking?

Seven

Why am I not surprised!

“I think you’re ready to drop the extra session after your house visits. You ran all the exercises independently last time, and your mother has picked up enough now to assist if necessary. You’ve done excellently so far Draco. We obviously have a lot more to cover in these sessions, starting with discussing your father, but I’m impressed with your commitment.”

“Thanks. I know we need to talk about him, but could we wait until after my newts. He was always heavily involved with my academic performance, and I’m afraid if I open up that box I won’t be able concentrate.”

“It’s brilliant that you can recognise that, and of course we can come back to it when you’re ready. Let’s talk about happier things today. Tell me about that girlfriend of yours.”

“Well,” his face erupts into a dreamy grin, “she’s simply amazing.”

What do I need for tomorrow?

Smart muggle outfit for tomorrow night, casual stuff for the day and then whatever you need for dinner with your mum. I’ve taken care of everything else.

How smart, full suit or just shirt and trousers?

Shirt and trousers is enough, you could even go with a pair of your darker jeans. No trainers though.

Ok. I can’t wait to see you.

To kiss you.

To touch you.

To make you scream.

Mmm, me too

Are you sure you can’t come earlier, I’m going out of my mind Granger.

No, I’ve made reservations and plans, you’ll just have to wait. It’s only a few more hours.

Please

I can’t. I have an afternoon class and I’ll need time to get ready.

Fine, I’ll be waiting at the gate for you

Actually, can you meet me at your floo. I’ll be coming straight from school, and there’s no time for me to walk outside the wards to aparate.

Are you sure? I know I’ve been pestering you about getting here as early as possible, but I can wait, your comfort is more important. You know that right?

I do, and thank you. But I’m fine, I’m ready.

Call for my office, I’ll have my mother unblock it.

Alright. I better go or I’ll be late to class.

He’d been on tender hooks all day. He’d gone for a walk and attended to some paperwork, before taking a long indulgent and pleasurable shower. After which he then spent a ridiculous amount of time debating on which shirt was best. He’d gone back and forth over the slate grey or the navy, finally deciding on the navy, he’d paired it with some dark jeans and his favourite dragon hide loafers. He’d seen other muggles with similar styles of shoes, so he’d thought why not. It had been a warm day, so he’d opted to roll his sleeves just slightly and leave the top few buttons undone. He’d just poured himself a drink to settle his nerves, when he heard the floo come to life. Turning around he could swear he’d been stupefied.

Hermione had exited looking completely sinful. Merlin, what had she planned for them tonight.

Chapter 13 Chapter Text

He couldn’t take his eyes off her in the tiniest and shiniest scrap of material he’d ever seen. She was a vision, her hair was piled high on her head, with a few curls escaping around her neck and face. Her feet were almost bare, a few thin slivers of silver wrapping around her toes and ankle, the only things keeping her feet secure to the incredibly high heels. They made her legs seem endless. He finally drew his eyes back to her face, landing on the smoky, shimmering makeup on her eyes. Taking in her plump glossy lips was the final straw. He was across the room in three strides, one hand going around the waist drawing her closer whilst the other went for the nape of her neck directing her lips to his.

She responded, easily as frenzied as him to be reunited. The past month had driven him mad with desire. Their messages had ignited something deep within him he never had the chance to explore before. Yes, he’d been with other girls but they’d always let him take the lead, never asking for what they wanted, happy with whatever he gave. But not Hermione. From the beginning she was the one to cross the physical line first with that kiss to his cheek. She’d bitten back, marked him as hers, challenged and demanded more from him and wasn’t explicit in telling him what she wanted to do to him in return. He was very much hoping their night would pick up from where they left off, but something told him right now wasn’t the time. Besides he had a little plan of his own up his sleeve before they left. Slowly he pulled away, placing a tender kiss on her nose followed by her forehead.

“You look incredible, Hermione. My mind is going crazy trying to figure out where we might be going with you in that dress, but before we disappear to whatever you have in store, my mother would like to see you.”

She offers him a puzzled expression, then pulls out her wand, waving it over the hem and then the neckline of her dress. At his disappointed reaction to the changes to her dress, she can’t help placing a gentle kiss upon his pouting lips. “Don’t worry, it’s not staying like this all night. I’d planned to do this shortly anyway for dinner. It’ll be back to how it was in a few hours.” Her dress now came down more modestly to her knees, the thin halter strap thickened and the dipped loose neck was much higher and form fitting. “Seriously Draco stop pouting, did you honestly think how it was, was appropriate for meeting with your mum.”

“Fair point, still a few hours, that’s going to be torture knowing whats to come.”

“You’ll survive”, she laughs as they head down the hall to Narcissa’s garden room.

“Ah, Hermione dear, don’t you look lovely”. The smirk he received from over his mothers shoulder made him shake his head knowing she’d make a point to say ‘ I told you so’ when they were alone.

“Thank you Narcissa. Draco said you wanted to see me?”

“Yes, I wanted to invite you to join me for dinner tomorrow evening?”

“I’d love to, but that’s against the rules of Draco’s sentencing, he’s not allowed guests to the Manor.”

“Yes, but I - “, she was interrupted by Draco clearing his throat, “ - we, did a little checking and believe we found a loophole. Inviting you as purely my guest, means that you are visiting me. Now should my son, who’s birthday it is, happen upon us during our visit, there’s nothing in the rules saying he may not join us.”

“In that case, I gladly accept your invitation.”

“We shall be dining in the gardens, there’s a rather beautiful gazebo by the lake.” The large grandfather clock in the hall chimes, indicating it’s half past the hour. “Now run a long, I don’t expect to see you back a minute before seven thirty tomorrow. Dress casually, darlings.”

They say their goodbyes and make their way out and down towards the gates.

“That’s rather sneaky of you, flaunting the rules like that.”

“What can I say, I’m a Slytherin who wanted to spend as much time on his birthday as possible with his rather lovely girlfriend. Now are you sure I can’t persuade you to put your dress back now, rather than after dinner”, his hand pulling up the hem of her dress.

“Down boy! And no, I’ve booked us into a nice place, it requires me to be dressed appropriately.”

Dinner was in a very intimate bistro, clearly designed for couples. Almost every table setting was for two, towards the back were curved shelters and decorative foliage offering a more secluded and private dining experience. Draco wanted to sigh in relief when they were escorted to one of the rear tables, not wanting to share Hermione with anybody.

“Did you remember to bring your notebook?”

“Yes, although I am curious as to why, we obviously don’t need them when we’re together.”

“You’ll have to wait until tomorrow, it’s part of your birthday gift.”

“Part? That implies there’s other parts?”

“Hmm, you’ll just have to wait and see.”

“What about what else we’re doing, can I know about that?”

“We’re going dancing.”

“Dancing?” His brows raised in surprise.

“Yes, dancing”, she replies laughing.

He was just about to respond when their first course arrived. Anything he was about to say, instantly forgotten once the food hit his mouth.

“Granger, please explain to me why we’ve been eating greasy chips and pub food when we could’ve been eating this the entire time.”

She scoffs, “Most muggles, and wizards too, can’t all be as wealthy as you Mr Malfoy, and so this quality of dining experience is saved for special occasions such as anniversaries and engagements.”

“And birthdays?”

“Yes, and birthdays”, she beams at him.

They continue on eating and talking, the tension building between them. Longing glances over their wine glasses, sly brushes of feet and ankles under the table. Dessert arrives and Draco nearly loses his mind as Hermione moans her delight, licking every last morsel of the sweet treat off the spoon whilst staring him right in the eye. Needing to redirect his thoughts or else be caught by the server for indulging in a dessert not on the menu, he returns to their early conversation.

“So how did you get dancing approved as an activity tonight? We do have dancing in the wizarding world.”

“It’s a whole other experience. For starters it’s in a club and not a ballroom and there will be a variety of music on offer. Plus it’s an important part of culture for muggles our age.”

They finished up and were soon on their way to an apparition point. Arriving in a dimly lit alley, Hermione transforms her dress back to its earlier style, short and floaty, the neckline looser held around her neck by two thin ribbons. It wasn’t until she was pulling him towards the main pathway that he noticed how little dress there was at the back. In fact all that it was was two more thin ribbons tied across her back, right where a bra would be.

“Seriously Hermione, are you trying to kill me? This little dress of yours is f*cking sinful.” He pulls her back towards him whispering in her ear. “When I mentioned you joining the no underwear club”, he pauses as his left hand glides up along the slinky fabric, “I didn’t mean your bra.” His thumb catches over her nipple and he groans at their already pebbled state. He quickly twists her around, “are you sure we have to go dancing, can’t we just head back to yours?” Not waiting for a reply he tilts his head down and seizes her bottom lip between his own, nibbling on the plump flesh before sliding his tongue in to tangle with hers, their lips fusing together with the heat of the embrace. They stood there, oblivious to the world around them until the sounds of a wolf whistle startled them apart.

“Well well well, looks like our old pal Drakey here has started his birthday celebrations without us.” Draco looks towards the path, the teasing voice of Theo Nott greeting his ears. Before he can even register his shock, he is further surprised as the man himself appears under the street lamp flanked by none other than Blaise and Pansy, all of them dressed in muggle attire.

He looks at Hermione questioningly. “Just another part of your present. Come on they’re waiting,” she calls, giving him a cheeky and somewhat co*cky smirk as she heads towards the group. He quickly catches up, grasping her hand in his, completely astonished at just how wonderful this witch was.

“Officially, as your course leader, I should be thanking you all for arriving on time for our final excursion in your ‘Integrating in the Muggle World’ program. And advising you that this evening you will be embarking on a cultural experience known as clubbing. There will be music, drinks and dancing and you will be expected to participate fully in order to gain full marks.”

“Granger”, moans Blaise.

“However”, she smirks, “that’s just what I told McGonagall in order to get you all here. Tonight we’re just here to have fun and to celebrate Draco’s birthday.”

“Who’d have thought, Granger has a Slytherin side!” laughs Theo. “Shall we head in?”

“First, just two things. Rules if you will.” Ignoring their collective sighs she continues. “Firstly, no magic inside the club. Secondly, nobody is to call me Granger, I’d much prefer it if you all called me Mi. Right then if you all agree, follow me. I called ahead and got us on the VIP list, figured you posh sods would appreciate that”, the playful mocking evident in her tone.

“You know Mi, you’re really growing on me”, says Pansy, hooking their arms together pulling her along in front of the boys.

Watching the girls head off, Draco happily accepts the embrace of his two best friends. “This is certainly a surprise, you’d never mentioned an integration program?” he questions.

“Well you never mentioned you were locking lips with the golden girl either. Lucked out with your sentencing there mate”, grins Blaise.

“Yeah, I mean look at her in that dress. Whoo”, whistles Theo

“I know right, her muggle clothes will be the death of me!” Draco responds nodding his head in happy agreement. “Wouldn’t let her catch you calling her the golden girl though, she hates it. And I didn’t say anything as I didn’t want to risk my sentencing, don’t need to worry now though. Thankfully my girl’s got an ‘in’ with the Minister.”

“Stop dawdling you lot, let’s get to celebrating”, calls Pansy from where the girls have stopped outside a club. Hermione was talking to a rather large man in a black suit guarding the front of a large queue. When they join them, she gestures to the group and the man moves out of their way allowing them to enter.

The loud bass escapes the door the second it’s opened, surrounding them all with its deep thrum. Hermione leads the way, weaving them all to an area towards the side, again guarded by another suited man. They’re given stamps on their hands and shown to an exclusive low booth, bottles of champagne and tequila waiting for them.

“Have any of you ever had tequila before?” All four respond with a shake of the head. “Excellent, one more thing I can show you all tonight.” She leans down to grab the bottle and fills five shot glasses. She hands a lime wedge to Draco, “hold this for me, and give me your other hand.” He dutifully does as he’s told, curious as to what’s going on. The next thing he knows her tongue has left a trail of saliva between his thumb and forefinger and she’s pouring salt on top.

“It’s quite simple, lick”, she licks the salt off his hand, "slam”, she throws back the shot, “and suck”, her lips clasp over the lime in his other hand. He feels the juice creep down his fingers, her tongue cheekily chasing it, the sensation sending all the blood straight to his groin. He was certainly going to be hard all night if she kept this up. Perhaps if he asked nicely she’d cast a discreet notice me not charm on his jeans to save some of his embarrassment.

She refills her glass, this time licking her own hand after handing out the lime to them all. “On three, one, two, three.”

“Woah, what the hell is that sh*t!” exclaims Blaise.

“That’s some burn, but I kind of like it”, adds Pansy, smacking her lips together.

“Good because you all need to catch up”, Hermione demands, handing out more limes and refilling the glasses once again. This time she keeps a hold of Draco's lime and before she can offer up her own hand for him to lick, he’s stepped into her and licked along her exposed shoulder, the salt following closely behind. In retaliation, she places the lime between her teeth and holds out the shot. He feels her whole body shiver when the flat of his tongue traces her skin trying to gather the salt. His eyes stare into her as his tips back the spirit before biting into the lime, his teeth catching on her bottom lip. He feels the rumble of her moan against his lips, and it takes everything he has not to devour her here and now, but his friends are staring, so reluctantly he pulls back, smirking a little as he sees the flush on her cheeks.

“Right, let’s have a proper drink and toast the birthday boy, then I say we hit the dance floor. I can’t wait to be amongst all those fit women and their wonderful muggle fashion.” Theo passes the champagne around, “To Draco, the slickest git we know.”

They all down their glasses and head towards the crowds. Draco however has a different plan and pulls Hermione back towards their booth. Taking a quick look around he’s relieved to notice there are only a few others remaining in the VIP section, and they seem rather wasted.

He guides her into the seat before him, encouraging her to slide around a little more before he pounces.

“f*ck, Hermione”, his mouth trailing down her jaw, “have I told you today, how incredible you are. Scheming to get my friends here”, his lips nibble on her ear lobe, “getting us this private little area.” His hand joins in the torment, tickling the outside of her thigh. “Not to mention this dress,” his hand gripping the hem and moving it higher exposing even more of her thighs.

“Draco, we’re in public, people might see.” It’s an attempt at a protest, but the way her body is responding he knows she isn’t truly worried.

“I don’t care Hermione, I’ve been going mad, waiting a whole damn month to get my hands on you, I don’t really care if a few drunk muggles watch.” And with that he stops talking, he’s drunk on her and when his hand reaches around to grasp her bum, he groans at the feeling of bare skin. His eyes drop to her lap, widening at the sight of the smallest piece of underwear he’d ever seen.

sh*t, yet another thing to thank the muggles for.

The blue satin did nothing to hide or contain her arousal. His mouth watered at the sight, wishing they were truly alone so he could wrap his lips around her core and delight in her taste, but for now he’d have to settle for touching her.

Not wasting anymore time he twists her round, her back to his chest and the rest of the club, trying to give her a little modicum of privacy for what he was about to do to her. He hooks her right leg around his, pulling up the left to bring her knee up to her chest, spreading her open as much as possible.

“Gods, Draco, touch me please”, all thoughts of protesting now forgotten, “I need you now.” His fingers delicately skim the edge of her thong, “don’t tease, Draco, please.” With her hip squirming in anticipation he finally lets his fingers slip through her slick folds.

“So wet”, he mumbles in her ear. He teases her centre and clearly it’s too much as she’s frantically grabbing at his hand, encouraging his first two fingers to dip into her core. “Mmm, so tight.”

Just like he thought that night in the car, she’s just as desperate as him, her hips meeting every thrust of his fingers, riding his hand. He twists slightly so his thumb can massage her cl*t and it’s that move that has her releasing his hand and reaching behind her to his crotch. She struggles with his fly until finally, finally, he can feel her soft small hand grip around his throbbing co*ck. It was the ultimate feeling of pleasure, he’d waited months for this. Her hand immediately worked his length up and down, and had him nuzzling into her neck.

As his lips followed the line of collarbone, the neck of her dress gave him his first peek at her breasts, naked under the slinky fabric. He couldn’t resist sneaking his other hand in through the side of her dress to pull at her rosy bud. Her own hand reacted, squeezing his sensitive head between her thumb and forefinger. The sensation of her hand on him mixed with the danger of getting caught, had him ready to explode.

“sh*t Mi, you’re going to make me come”, he grunts, “tell me you’re close too.” He curls his fingers forward pulsing on her g-spot, her head nodding. “Tell me what you need.”

She tilts her head round, “kiss me, just kiss me.” Their lips collide and the moment his tongue flicks against hers he can feel her walls clench down on him, her body shuddering in ecstasy, her release flooding his palm, just as his own coats her hand and her exposed back.

His head falls to her shoulder “f*ck Mi, that was - ”

“Fantastic”, she breathes

“Yeah.” His lips lazily kissing their way up her neck.

“f*ck, you were right.”

“About?”

“Real thing. Gods, soooo much better.”

“Mmm, I agree”, he hums in her ear. Pressing gentle kisses along the slope of her neck and shoulders, awareness of where they are comes back to him. “Don’t suppose there’s any chance of a sly scourgify”, he laughs, “it appears we’re quite the mess!”

Within seconds he can feel the tingle of magic against his skin. “Wandless and wordless, will you ever stop amazing me”, he says shaking his head as he adjusts himself back into his jeans.

“One day, maybe. But hopefully not tonight”, she winks at him, her dress back in place, her face beautifully flushed. They take a few minutes to collect themselves and have another glass of champagne. “Come on, let’s dance. Oh and prepare for more amazement”, she mocks pushing him out of the booth and towards his friends.

Pages of Redemption - ForeverAReader_SometimesAWriter - Harry Potter (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

Chapter Text

References