The Unity of Opposites

Chapter Six

Control

''This pass the state of normality Malfoy.'' Kingsley spoke to him again, but Draco didn't even move.

He was standing in the big hospital room for some time now, speaking to the young wizard but getting nothing in response.

Exhaling loudly, he walked in the room, watching a small pile of books at the stand next to her bed, some opened letters with the Enterprise's stamp on top of them.

He walked to them, the Malfoy heir sitting in a chair next to her bed. His upper body leaned forward, with his forearm touching the bed and his head resting on it.

His eyes were examining the floor, counting the small black lines of the marble again and again until he memorized everything around them.

Everything was the same, nothing had changed – either the floor nor Hermione's condition. Time was passing by slowly, making him count everything about those lost moments.

''Draco.'' he called his name once again and his head turned to face him.

''I heard you the first time Kingsley.'' he said to him coldly.

He was not looking directly at him, he was just watching him standing there, in the middle of Hermione's room. He rose his judgmental brows to Draco.

Kingsley took some steps towards him. His skin was paler than before, his eyes had a rather purple-ish colour of tiredness.

He looked like he had to shave for some time too. Kingsley felt sorry for him, even if he knew he shouldn't have.

The past couple of weeks he was practically living with her at St. Mungo's. Draco wasn't sure if he should do that – but he was feeling safe staying there.

He said that he could not trust the men Steele brought to guard her room unless he was there with her too. Kingsley had laughed with that.

''When was the last time you slept Malfoy?'' he asked him, walking in the room and opening the curtains.

The daylight filled the room. Draco's eyes closed at once and his hand covered his face. They were closed for a reason.

''Yesterday.'' answered, feeling his lower back aching.

''Draco, this is not healthy.'' he said to him taking a spare chair and sitting next to him. He placed his hand on his shoulder and looked at him.

''I know that you find yourself responsible for her stage, but you are really not.''

''I am not?'' he said, taking the book he was reading to her off his lap and place it on the nightstand.

''I was the one saying that she should be safe in her own apartment Kingsley! That man knew where she was living and I thought that with some spells she would be protected!'' his voice was steady but yet someone could hear the defeat.

''If that's the matter, a safe house would be the last thing that she would consider.''

''But she will. The moment her eyes open, she is going to move into one.'' he informed him casually looking at her. He made up his mind.

''From now on, I will make the decisions regarding her safety – even if she likes it or not.''

Kingsley shook his head – there were not a lot of things he could do. With Hermione in the hospital and Draco never leaving her side was hard to keep an untroubled spirit. He knew that he had to make some steps back.

''Go to your house, take a bath, rest and come back within five hours.'' he said to him taking his robes off and his wand resting on his lap.''You will take the night watch.''

Haven't I always? He thought wanted to protest, but the look on Kingsley face was making him not to.

He looked for one last time her face and then apparated to his house – but Hermione's heart started to beat faster the moment she stopped hearing his voice.


The moment he saw his home, Draco felt his eyes opened wide with energy. He was sure that it was only the adrenaline of leaving her alone. He looked around him and everything was as he left them.

He walked to his living room and took his robes and blazer off. He looked at the tall glassed table, he placed next to his modern fireplace – he had some letters from the Ministry and his mother, two of the weekly Ministry Times editions and a package from Astoria.

He opened the letters from his mother – complains, a wedding date, charity, charity, complains, complains. He tossed them aside.

He opened the letters from the Ministry – pay check and some information papers that needed his signature. He grabbed the quill and put the papers aside too.

He laughed at the fact that he was taking money from the Ministry. He was making that kind of money every seven minutes at the Malfoy Enterprise.

He was about to throw away the package he got from Astoria but curiosity caught up with him. He opened it to find out a pair of silver cufflinks with green shining lines covering a small part of the cufflinks.

Inside the box there was a handwritten note – for the Parkinson wedding. Pansy is getting married? He asked himself not knowing for how long he had to talk to the young witch.

Looking back to the cufflinks he received he came to a realization that he liked them – who wouldn't like a very aesthetic gift anyway?

Even if something inside him was making him want to send the gift back, he left it in the same place he found it.


The hot water was making his aching muscles relax – and he needed that. He had never slept on a chair before.

It was something that he would say to Granger over and over, bragging about the fact that he, a Malfoy Heir, put himself into this uncomfortable situation for her – and then she would ask the reason he did it – and what would he say?

That he felt guilty? That he didn't want to leave her alone again? That he didn't like the idea of someone hurting her? Would she believe him?


The sound of wings made him jump in his sleep. He didn't know how he ended up in his bed. His eyes opened at once and he looked at the white ceiling.

At once his hand grabbed his wand. The cold blade of the silver ending base made his hand cool at once. He looked at his bedroom door.

He counted to three and when he heard no noise he stood up and left his bed. His naked torso chilled the moment he uncovered himself from the blanket. He was lucky that his feet were bare and his steps were soundless.

The door cracked open as much as he needed to walk outside. His footsteps were steady, and his wand was trying to find the cause of the sound. He was walking towards the living room when he saw Budo.

His hand fell at once. His owl had a small golden envelope to his curved mouth. He pet him a little and gave him a treat.

He had Bubo since he was twelve years old. He loved him more than he would like to admit. He took the envelope and saw his name written on the back.

He took a glass of firewhiskey and sat in the big armchair. The heat coming from the fireplace was making every corner of his house to feel more like home.

He liked that he was living alone. It was a nice change for him. With the first sip he felt his throat burning. He missed that.

He missed the way his body relaxed, the way his brain had stopped wondering into the abyss that was inside of Nehone's mind.

The envelope was still in his leg. He took it after some time and opened it wide. It was the invitation to his former classmate's wedding.

He felt happy for her. He didn't know who was the lucky one, but he was happy that she found someone she could spend her life with.

After the war Pancy spent a lot of time with herself, thinking of things she did wrong. It was when Draco had faced its own fears.

He was not that much of a help to her those days. He too had fought with himself over several issues that was making his nights sleepless. Some days still does.

He was feeling weak when his mind was travelling back to his old self - but now he had no time for that. He looked at the invitation.

She was getting married. Whatever issue she had with herself, she must have worked it out. He could remember their days back in Hogwarts.

She had a crush on him for so long. He laughed at the faded memory of him breaking her heart and her never letting him go.

''Theodore Nott!?'' he yelled. That was a surprise. In his mind, he already planned what would say to tease them.

The second sip was much more delightful. He closed his eyes for a brief second, but when he opened them again he felt shocked.

The clock on his wall warned him that he had to go back to her. Apparently he had fallen asleep again - his glass of firewhiskey still in his hand.

He saw it for a second and let it on top of the table. He couldn't drink now. He stood up and he walked to his bookcase.

His eyes scanned the book of his, and he took the rarest one he could find - a novel about a musician and his lover and let it next to his glass.

In his mind, he had planned his evening - check in with the Aurors, make sure Steele was sober, read to Hermione and then sleep.

Secretly he felt good knowing that he had somewhere to go - even if he didn't want to say it out loud.


That day was like every other day. Except for the cold weather – but that was only making him love it even more. He liked it when he was feeling the cold weather touching his skin.

All around him there were books. Some of them opened, some closed. In the middle of the office there was a glass holder.

If someone would looked inside of the glass holder would see a purple stone, shining under the morning light. He was secretly admiring the silenced power of it.

He was so closed, to find out how to unleash the power of the Heather Stone. So close that he could practically taste the unlimited superiority that he would have.

That feeling was making him want it even more. The things that he planned to make were making his sleep even sweeter every night.

It was a great day for him. Everything was falling into place. The house he once grow up, had his name on the papers – yes, that small but great house full of fine art and strange treasures was his – and the idea of all the galleons that slutty little vixen left unused were his to take, was a cherry on top.

He took his hot tea from the office he was sitting and walked towards the big window. He had a very big smile on his face.

The smile of a man knowing that his plan was working. The little witch that was messing with him, he was pretty sure she was laying on a bed in St. Mungo's by now.

''What a great day that is.'' he said and he took a sip from his tea. Perhaps he should take a walk and reward himself with some new clothes from that kind old man at Needle and Needle.


His eyes were scanning the big marble wall in the reception. With big letters that made Draco wonder how did they put them up there, it was written City Hall.

He didn't know how Kingsley convinced him to leave St. Mungo's again. But then again, he really had to do something than staring Granger in the hospital bed.

He too started to feel weird about it - every day, talking to himself, not knowing if she was hearing him, sleeping on a chair and eating the awful meals at St. Mungo's really had him running for some air.

Could that made him a bad person? He sure felt like one. He looked at the people walking around him knowing exactly where they were going.

This felt weird to him. Their investigation had left behind – it was only reasonable for Kingsley to send him there – and of course it was his idea to search the name Stohard and Nehone in the Muggle World.

He shouldn't be feeling like that, should he? A woman passed by and gave him a small smile. He straightened his back and he smirked.

He didn't know that Muggle women were like that. He looked at the man behind the reception - the men though needed improvement.

He made himself remember why he was there. Granger. Kingsley. Nehone. He was on a mission, not to be social around Muggles.

Kingsley had made it clear - it was a mission that was easy, but it meant that he had to make the research on his own.

Not that it was something that made him unhappy - he needed the time to be alone, that's what he said to Kingsley when he told him to leave.

He seemed relieved the moment he agreed. If Draco didn't know any better he would say that Kingsley was feeling stressed about the current situation – and why shouldn't he?

If Nehone's research with the Heather's Stone came to an end, they screwed. Draco didn't even want to think the horror he could unleash.

The man in the reception looked at him with curiosity – but he couldn't care less. He watched him writing down something.

He was waiting for some time now, and his patience was running thin. He wanted to take out his pocket watch, but he noticed that none of the Muggles he saw had one.

He wanted to go back to her. He wanted to be there waiting for her eyes to open - and the fact that she was not waking up, it was driving him crazy.

He has been told that she should wake up soon, but Draco's soon meant now. And with every passing day Hermione was falling deeper into the sleeping path that had enchanted her. And Draco was falling deeper into the abyss of guilt. A path well known to him.

He started to feel again all of those feelings that were so familiar to him at a younger age. His inaction was making him want to scream on top of his lungs and never shut up.

And of course he was the one to blame – oh the blame he was giving himself. He knew that he was the most cruel to himself of all people. He knew that he would be continued to be cruel until she would wake up.

Secretly he started to miss the simplest thing – the knowledge of her existence. Her being in her office reading one of the books she never forgot buying.

Even the sound of her voice, which he found rather irritating in his younger years, now he came to understand that he missed it too.

''You must be Mr Malfoy.'' the man said to him and gave him his hand to shake.

He broke his thoughts brutally. He looked at the man in front of him and he frowned. He looked young, but he wasn't – Draco was sure.

''I am – and you are late.'' he shook his hand and then unbuckled his blazer, taking the folded parchment from his inside pocket. He didn't like when things delayed.

''Sorry mate. We are understaffed these days.'' he told him and Draco narrowed his eyes.

He had no time to waste here. Draco gave him the parchment and the man raised his brows in surprise. ''Ministry of Human Associations?'' he said and looked at Draco with curiosity.

''Yes. We are kind of new in the business.'' he said clearing his throat first.

He was trying his best mimicking the words of Kingsley without feeling like a total outsider and blew up his cover. ''Now, what about those documents? May I have them?''

''Oh, yeah right.'' he said, giving him back his parchment. Everything was going as planned. Draco let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

''We don't have much of experience here with demographic analysis, so we kept most of the documents in the basement.'' he said and he gave him a card that written visitor on it.

Draco looked at the card and raised a brow. Muggles were weird after all. He saw that the man's name was Patrick. Patrick – what a ridiculous name.

''Who found those documents in the first place?'' asked Draco as he was following the man in the elevator.

''Nobody. It was here all along.'' he said to him and opened the elevator door for them to walk in.

''Before the second World War, there were a lot of people coming to England. Some of them taking vacations and others to permanently stay. Here they were writing them all down.'' the man said to him and he continued walking ahead.

''And what happened after the war?'' Draco asked not that he needed to know, but he was curious why nobody searched those documents before.

The man pushed a botton and the elevator started to move downwards, making Draco surprised. He had prepared himself for a ride.

''I don't know mate.'' he laughed awkwardly. ''There are a lot of scenarios, but I am not the right guy to tell you.'' he admitted and then looked at the surprised face of Draco.

''After the war, they wanted to take down the building, but they turned it to City Hall all of a sudden.'' he informed him and they stopped moving.

Draco frowned and he looked at the man next to him. He looked like he had done that ride too many times to care that they only went down.

''You are lucky enough, though.'' he added and opened the elevator door.

Draco looked around him. He was in the basement – that was for sure. The smell of humidity was in the air and the walls covered in small yellow stains.

''Why for?'' he asked when his breathing started to used to the smell.

Patrick laughed. Draco's eyes widened at the sight when the man opened the door. All around the room there were metal shelves with folders.

''You fucking kidding me.'' Draco said exhaling loudly.

He knew that this research of the Nehone name in the Muggle World would be a pain in his royal arse – but this was something else.

''Some years ago, someone put all of them in chronological order – but then..'' he said, moving to the right and pointing a thing on the desk Draco had never seen before. ''..we got one of these!'' he finished looking excited.

''Right.'' said Draco not, knowing what one of this is. He looked at the man with curiosity.

''Are you familiar with how it works?''

''Should I?'' he whispered and the man looked at him funny. ''Their ability is very well known to me, but that specific type is exceptionally not necessary in my work.'' he said and he looked at the thing in the desk.

''The Ministry of Human Associations doesn't have computers?'' he asked him confused, but Draco didn't know what to say.

That must be the first time in - well, ever. He realized that Granger's help would come handy sometimes if they wanted to finish that story.

''We do, we do, we certainly do, but - .. '' he said, pointing to the computer ''.. the old fashion way of research fascinates me more.'' he gave his famous smirk wanted to feel the victory of their conversation.

''That's why you came all the way here, when we could have emailed you!'' the man was looking thrilled. ''Maybe we should search your name too. Malfoy. Never heard it before.'' he said, smiling to Draco.

''Yes, no need for that. Let's see the documents that brought me here in the first place shall we?'' he said, and the man pushed his hands together, making a single clap and rubbed them.

He sat on the chair and waved at Draco to come closer. The man hit the longest bottom on the thing he called keyboard and the screen came to life. Was that something like Granger's tv in her parent's house?

''Okay, tell me the name you want to find.''


Kingsley was feeling his eyes closing. He wasn't getting used to sit in a chair for more than ten minutes. Hermione's face was still looked peaceful. He closed the book he was reading and stood up trying to wake up his muscles.

He walked towards the hospital window and he looked outside. The last time he was here, he had just lost a friend – a dear one.

He could remember the way the trees around St. Mungo's were smaller than now, the way the building itself made him want to run away.

He was too old for this kind of places. His hand rubbed his eyes. He started to feel tired. He wondered how Draco was doing it.

He looked at his watch and frowned. Draco was gone for the last three hours, and it was around lunch time. He should be back by now.

Should he go check on him? But he did promise that he wouldn't leave her alone. He exhaled loudly. And then he heard it.

A soft groan. And then a regular groan. Kingsley looked at her laying form. He noticed that her chest was falling and rising faster than before.

He cowardly took some steps closer to her. He wasn't sure if she was awake or she was seeing something in her sleep. He then saw her eyes opening and closing slowly.

He waved to the man standing in the door to bring help. The man walked off and Kingsley stepped closer to her. Her cheeks were starting to have that pink glow that was appropriate for her young age.

''Hermione?'' he spoke softly and looked at her eyes focusing on him.


Draco was about to lose his mind. It's been three hours – and they found nothing. They searched all the alternatives that he could think.

He was feeling like this idea of Nehone being Muggle was a big joke – it was safe now for him to say that he was the one feeling like a joke.

Kingsley had put his faith on him and once again he failed. He even left Hermione's side to search for this fucking man. He really needed a firewhiskey at that point.

''Wait.'' Patrick said, looking like he had an epiphany.

He threw his hand in the air, making eye contact with Draco, who looked at him coldly. He didn't know what else to expect from that man anymore.

''Do you know the date?'' he said, grabbing the desk and pushing himself in front of the computer again. ''We can search by date!'' Draco was looking at him suspiciously. That person might be smart after all.

''I only know the date of birth.'' he informed him and he took his jacket off.

''Man, you talk funny. Date of birth.'' he tried to mimic his voice and laughed a little.

''Pardon me?'' Draco's eyes could toss fire on him if he wanted. He was feeling offended somehow. ''How dare you, speaking fun of me?''

''That's what I am talking about! Perhaps you came from the past in search of a man to kill him, so you don't have to face him in the future!'' he said looking into the emptiness and his mind started to make scenarios.

''Are you a time traveller?'' his eyes widened when he asked. Draco could see the excitement in his face.

That was making Draco feel confused. Could Muggles have powers? And what is a time traveller? The only thing that he knew about time travelling was the Time Turner necklace – something that was belonged to his family for centuries.

''Correct – and perhaps I am a wizard too.'' Draco looked at him dangerously and was ready to grab his wand but to his relief, the man started to laugh. He could see his eyes watery.

''You are funny mate!'' he was able to say after his laughter ended. ''Tell me the date of birth.'' he spoke mimicking his voice again. Draco should have been upset by his action, but he too found it rather funny.

''1920.'' he said and he looked at the man's hand typing the numbers.

It was starting to be clear to Draco how that computer machine worked. It was fascinating to him the fact that the he would know something about the Muggles that Granger wouldn't.

''Voila.'' the man said and he looked at Draco with a wide smile. ''Damien Dominique De Stoharier.'' he said, feeling the proud heat inside of him built. Draco leaned forward to the screen.

''We have been looking in the wrong place.'' he added and Draco shook his head in agreement. Patrick raised his hand into the air.

''Come on put it in here! Don't be embarrassed!'' he said and took Draco off guard.

Put what, where? He thought and then he looked at his own hand. He raised his own hand into the air touching Patrick's. He laughed, saying that was a total worth high five, which made Draco questioning the man's capacity.

Draco's eyes fell back to the screen. That was it. He found it. He noticed that the man was sniffing him. ''Hey man, what's your cologne?'' he asked and Draco looked at him with his brows frowned. Then an idea came to his head.

''Can we search one last thing?''


The sky was once again covered with clouds. The colours of them were changing to dark grey, and the smell of the upcoming rain was in the air, until the sun became visible behind them. It was a nice time for someone to go for lunch.

Every now and then, the sky was filled with some hurried man or woman, trying to go somewhere riding their broomsticks, but the sky was once again empty after their passing.

Students that were having their weekend break, were walking in the busy streets, some of them with books in their hands, and some with bags full of new clothes and robes.

If someone was walking among with them, in the streets of Diagon Alley these days, would have heard the unending conversations about the new Numbus One, the first broomstick, that was able to detect injuries, recognition and fall of the rider and even responds to the thoughts of its owner.

It was the only thing that was making everyone questioning the unlimited abilities of a Muggle Wizard designer. But then again, it was something that was ordinary, in the streets of Diagon Alley.

Defining the crowd and the loud noises that were echoing that day, a man who was different from anyone else chose to take his walk outside that day. After all, who is not enjoying a surprising cold weather?

The man was walking in the busy streets. His fresh cut hair was shining under the low sunlight of the day. His eyes were radiating, and taking in all the new images he had forgotten.

All those young wizards and witched, that were running around this ridiculous little high street, that he thought of a village in this mind.

He fixed his heavy black coat with the hand he had free and he continued walking in the streets. His leather black walking stick, with the face of a wolf, fitting perfectly into his palm, with white colour diamonds as eyes, was echoing with every step he was talking.

Someone would have thought, that he looked like he was owning the place – and why wouldn't he? He was walking proudly, his head looking straight to the people around him.

A lot of heads turned as he was passing by, and a lot of female giggles heard when he looked at their way. His face was having a rather undeniable smirk. He knew what he was doing. He knew what he was able to do.

A young woman who was walking towards him, caught his eye at once. She was walking like she knew that all the men would want her. She had a confidence he never seen to anyone before. His eyes took in everything that he had to know.

The length of her legs, as was shown under her pencil skirt, her black hair, slightly curled stopping in the middle of her chest, and her green eyes, winking at him. It was the first time in a while that his head had to turn.

His eyes looked her behind with complete attachment. As she was walking away, his eyes lost her. He looked in front of him again and continued his walk around Diagon Alley – but his mind was locked in the beautiful green eyes of hers. A smirk was playing on his lips when he hit something with his shoulder.

''Sorry.'' the blond man said without even looking at him. He was walking fast like someone was chasing him.

''You should be.'' he whispered to himself and he fixed his suit once again.

He turned to look at him, moments before he disappeared. This blond hair was rather familiar to him. He wiped the spot the young man touched him.

His walking stick hit the ground again, and he started to move. Nobody was good enough to spoil his day.


Draco was about to run – maybe he should – he was trying to reach out the point Kingsley said he would put the portkey for Hermione's hospital wing. He didn't even bother to look who he pushed with his shoulder.

He was looking rather reddish from all the walking he was doing and he didn't see the man in front of him. His apologize wasn't very sincerely – he knew, but he heard nothing in return. If he wasn't that hurry he would have taught him a lesson.

He walked in the store of Madam Malkin. She tried to say hello to him, but the only thing she got in return was a wave in the air.

So much for helping the Ministry, she thought and turned back to her hand work.

Draco stepped into the dressing room and looked at the mirror. He took a breath and tried to relax himself.

He once again felt the heat from the ring to his finger - that could mean only one thing – Hermione woke up.

He saw his reflection in the mirror. His cheeks were red. He brushed a wisp of hair away from his face. He fixed his suit, placing the Auror badge next to his family's.

He took some big breaths to calm completely, but his cheeks were still in that pure shade of pink. What he could do – he had to see her.

He realized that he didn't know why he was feeling so rushed. But he did - he was feeling like she would spank him for not being there.

He looked at the parchments that he got from the City Hall and put them back to his blazer pocket. That was so much more than he expected. It was something that would change everything.

He was feeling proud. He had everything that he needed to prove to Kingsley that he was right and he deserved his place in the team.

It would mean so much to him. Especially when he was feeling so guilty about Hermione's hospitalized.

But now it was time for him to see her. His legs were starting to shake. Why he was feeling like that? He wasn't afraid to see her – he was more afraid that she might be angry at him.

He looked at himself one last time. You can do this, he said to himself and put his leg inside of the mirror. When he was gone the mirror once again took its earlier form.


Kingsley was outside of her room, talking to the Auror team that Nestor Steele had gathered for her protection.

He was informing them that for now on, they will take shifts that would last for the next week - then their services will not longer be needed.

His eyes caught sight of the tall body of Draco walking to them. Kingsley excused himself and found him half way.

''A healer is with her.'' he informed him watching at his strange face.

His pink cheeks could only mean that he was running. His hair was a bit messier than usual, which only made his suspicions bigger.

He nodded and looked at the Aurors waiting in the hallway. He exhaled loudly and took the parchments from his pocket. Kingsley's face lightened.

''You found it?'' he asked surprised.

''Of course I did.'' he said to Kingsley and the door opened. The healer smiled to them.

''She fall back to sleep, but she is absolutely fine. I have never seen that fast healing before.'' the healer said and moved closer to Kingsley. ''May I see you, sir?''

Kingsley excused himself and walked towards the healer - she put a fight in there Minister, but to my concern she must stay here, Draco could hear them as they were walking away.

For how long? he heard Kingsley asking and his brows frowned, until her mind is healed completely, and then they left from his sight.

Yes the healer read his mind - it would be better if she stayed there for a while, only to make sure she is perfectly well.

Draco looked at the door of her room. He fixed his blazer wanted to be decent. With slow moves and even soundlessly, he opened the door.

His eyes fell to her form laying in bed. He closed the door behind him and walked towards her. He took a big breath before his eyes met her face.

Her cheeks were matching his. Her lips were once again red, and her chest was falling and rising faster than the last time he saw her.

A smile shown in his face that he couldn't hide. He thought about this moment days now - but the only thing that he was feeling was relief.

Relief that she was back with him again, relief that he could hear her voice - even if she would probably be mad at him.

He took the chair that was his bed for the past weeks and sat next to her. He took the book he was reading to her and opened it. He wanted to read her the end.

When he was about to read, he looked at her and his eyes stuck on hers. She was looking at him. She turned to her side to face him better.

''You weren't here when I woke up.'' she made her observation with the most sad voice he had ever heard. He felt his heart breaking.

''I am here now.'' he said smiling her softly. A real smile.

He looked back to the book and started to read. It didn't take her a while to fall back to sleep, with her heart beating normally again.