Music: Newt Says Goodbye To Tina, James Newton Howard (Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them)
"I am going to propose to Astoria. It's something I have postponed for far too long now."
Theodore Nott looked up in surprise.
During the days before Christmas Draco had lived up to his promise and visited with his good friends Theodore and Tracey in their small but classy flat off Diagon Alley. Normally Draco would bask in the peaceful atmosphere in his friends' house but now he seemed tense despite his effort to hide it. The usual drawl in Draco's even voice had masked whatever was going through him right now and his face betrayed nothing.
An expression of concern flashed over Theodore's features and he sat up.
"Are you sure? I mean, I could do something… I do work at the Ministry, remember?"
He didn't even bother to congratulate his friend as was customary in situations in which your best friend tells you he's hopefully going to be engaged to be wed.
Draco's face darkened at the obvious doubt in Theodore's voice.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Nott," he replied stiffly before taking a gulp from his Firewhisky. "How do you like the Firewhisky?"
Theodore frowned.
"Oh, come on, Malfoy, don't play me like a fool. Like I don't know what has been going on for the past few weeks," Theodore confronted him disapprovingly, ignoring Draco's attempt to change the subject.
This earned him a cold gaze from his friend. "And what exactly might that be?"
Theodore studied Draco. The man hadn't been this impervious since before… long. He had put up a wall around him and nobody was able to get through to him. He shook his head. Someone could.
"She could use a little support, you know. She's all on her own in this."
He had overplayed his hand. Theodore knew it when Draco suddenly put down his glass and got up.
"There's nothing I need from the Ministry nor do I owe the Ministry anything, Nott," he stated icily, his grey eyes having turned to steel mirrors.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go home. I'll see myself out. Merry Christmas, Nott."
The door of the stylish London flat was closed rather forcefully as Theodore took a regretful sip from his Firewhisky.
This was far worse than he'd thought.
As Christmas approached quickly Draco actually welcomed the depressing atmosphere at the Manor as it perfectly fit his own mood. He was grateful that nobody asked him any questions as he tried to forget about Granger. For the second time in his life.
Weather permitting he took long flights over the Wiltshire downlands and valleys. The crisp, open air soothed the aching inside. Up in the air he could pretend that the escaping tears were caused by the nip of winter.
To beguile the time Draco made his mother some new potions so she wouldn't have to go out and buy them. To her surprise he even helped her with coordinating the decorating of seven Christmas trees which were to be placed in several drawing rooms and the dining room. Draco made sure the house-elves got one in the kitchen too. He had stopped summoning his Patronus as he'd securely closed off all of the memories that had made the ferret appear in the past.
A week before Christmas he received a short note from Astoria in which she sent her apologies and explained to him that given the circumstances she would refuse his request to see each other. She had already withdrawn her invitation for her family's Christmas dinner.
A bitter smile passed over Draco's lips as he read her message. He couldn't blame her for doing so. Nonetheless he needed her to comply with his request.
Swiftly, he wrote a short but understanding reply, requesting to please reconsider her decision. When he saw the weak winter sun breaking through the heavy clouds, he decided on impulse to go on a stroll to Owlery and send the letter himself.
He summoned his coat and walked through the kitchen towards the Owlery, ignoring the stares from the house-elves.
The world outside had fallen silent as the freshly fallen snow muffled all sounds but for the soft crackling of snow under Draco's boots. Despite his anxiety, he enjoyed the small walk through the wintery gardens.
Draco gave a low whistle when he approached the elegant, wooden birdhouse, expecting his Barn Owl Escuin to come and meet him. Therefore, he was mildly surprised when the brown bird didn't emerge from the Owlery.
"Escuin?"
Draco entered the aviary and looked around searchingly, seeing only a few family owls and his father's rare Greater Sooty Owl from Australia. There was no sign of Escuin. He lifted his eyebrow, then he shrugged. The bird was probably still out from a night hunting.
Quickly, he sent one of the other owls on its way and upon his return to the house called Squeaky with him.
"Escuin was not in the Owlery today. I'd like you to regularly check the birdhouse for his return."
The house-elf nodded in confirmation and Draco left the kitchen. He didn't notice that Squeaky watched him go with big, slightly frightened eyes as he held his bony hands, wrapped in bandages, protectively to his scrawny body.
Normally, Hermione loved this time of the year - the arrival of first snow, carol singers in a beautifully decorated Diagon Alley, decorating the Christmas tree and cosy family dinners.
This year however she only saw the muddy slush covering the treacherous layer of ice underneath and the Christmas carols were piercing her ears as she turned her eyes away from the brightly shining Christmas trees.
Almost six weeks had passed since Harry had pleaded with her to reconsider her visit to Malfoy Manor. Now, she fiercely wished she had followed his advice as she tried to shut out the eyes turning towards her wherever she came.
A sigh escaped her as she rested her head in her hands and tried to concentrate on the report before her. During this time of the year, Cornish pixies were wreaking havoc on the Muggles in the hills of Cornwall and something had to be done. But to be honest, Hermione couldn't care less. As went for the illegally imported Acromantula eggs.
There was something else occupying her mind. And it had something to do with the awkwardly written note lying next to the report.
The break-up with Ron had been an emotional rollercoaster. Her memories of his anger were blurred by a mist of unshed tears. She had failed to convince him that he was misguided by The Daily Prophet and hadn't been able to prevent their very public break-up. It had been the most humiliating experience in her life. But the worst thing was that she'd also lost someone who had tentatively become one of her best friends over a slow conversation through Patronus messages.
She had wanted to blame The Daily Prophet for what had happened but in her heart she knew that the newspaper had only canalised that what had already been wrong between her and Ron for so long. With the worst possible result.
"Honestly Hermione, there's no possible way that you could have foreseen this to happen. No one in their right mind could. I certainly didn't," Harry had said to her the day that hell had broken loose in The Daily Prophet. "I mean, how can someone draw a supposed love affair out of this?"
He'd pointed at the inspection results in the newspaper.
"I was afraid of some bad publicity if something were to happen to you at Malfoy Manor, but this… It will blow over, Hermione, I'm sure it will."
But it didn't blow over. It only became worse. In the days that followed more and more pictures of her and Malfoy were being published by the newspaper. If the whole situation hadn't been this awful she would have been surprised about how many actually existed. Old classmates were also being drawn out of anonymity to tell the most fantastic and untrue stories about the developing love affair between the former enemies during their repeated year at Hogwarts.
And then this one picture had been published.
The photograph that made the situation finally explode and the mailbox of The Daily Prophet clog up for days. The picture the world had come to know as The Corridor.
Dennis Creevey.
That was the name that shot through Hermione's head the moment she saw the photograph on the front page of the newspaper. The small boy who had been following her around during the holidays with his camera and apparently had managed to do so even after bedtime curfew. Hermione actually admired the way the gentle moonlight cast a silvery glow on her and Malfoy in the photograph. It carried her back to this Christmas holiday seven years ago when they had enjoyed a brief period of peacefulness as she'd taught Malfoy the Patronus spell.
The picture had meant the end of her relationship with Ron.
"You look rather close, though," Harry had hesitantly pointed out, a strange mixture of hurt, mild disgust and amazement lacing his voice, as he held up the day old newspaper. Thank Merlin, he had been willing to listen to her. He had been one the few. His remark had Hermione groan in dismay, though.
"I told you…"
"I know, I know," Harry had interceded, "you only taught him the Patronus spell, because he'd asked you to. It's hard to believe, but I'll try. Still, I don't understand why you've never told us."
He had been silenced when Hermione's eyes had suddenly spat fire.
"And face all this? Don't you think I haven't at least foreseen Ron's reaction? There's no way in which he could have understood it and I would never have taken the risk of telling him. He would have tried to interfere."
Knowing Ron's disgust of Malfoy Harry had had no choice but to agree with her. He wasn't even sure if he himself wouldn't at least have tried to change her mind on this.
He'd leaned back in his uncomfortable office chair as he'd studied the picture of his dear friend and former arch-enemy in the newspaper. They were standing closer to each other than ever before and wore a strange expression of belonging on their faces, which somehow felt right. It had been a very disturbing notion, but he'd known that Hermione couldn't take much anymore.
There was one thing Harry had needed to know, though.
"I know it's none of my business," he'd said slowly, "but I still don't understand why you would have gone to all this trouble for Malfoy."
His voice had become lower as his bespectacled green eyes had rested on Hermione.
But she'd only shaken her head dismissively.
"I'm not considering it a trouble if it means that by helping Malfoy to learn the Patronus spell we'll be taking another step away from hatred and war. Even if it means keeping the lessons a secret from my friends."
Her honest words had touched Harry. He'd slumped back in his office chair and said no more.
Days turned into weeks as Hermione automatically went to work and held her head up high, ignoring the not so very quiet whispers behind her back. Sometimes she ran into Ron who pretended not seeing her. Those were the moments she had to retreat to the bathroom, not being able to keep the tears from flowing.
Her parents had warmly welcomed her back to the parental home and once again she slept in her old girl's room. It actually helped to keep her ground in this madness to go home to a place in the Muggle world each night where nobody knew who Hermione Granger was. The picture of her and Malfoy, extracted from the newspaper Harry had left behind in her office, now rested in her pocket.
Every night she cried herself to sleep.
The worst thing was, that while she should have been thinking of Ron, her guilt toward Malfoy ran much, much deeper. Her Patronus couldn't possibly have brought across the way her voice had cracked when she had told him that this would be the last time he would be seeing the otter.
Hermione had immediately recognised the ferret Patronus the first time it had unexpectedly appeared in her room. That it had been carrying a message for her had rendered her speechless. How on earth had Malfoy managed to master that skill? Without anyone helping him? The second Patronus he'd sent her had made it clear that he'd remembered something she'd said about messenger Patronuses years ago, but this had only contributed to her admiration for him. He had merely been worried about her wellbeing instead, which had touched her deeply.
She'd sent him a heartfelt reply as she'd cursed herself for letting shame prevent her from contacting him before. It had felt like a betrayal of their burgeoning friendship and she'd been beyond relief he didn't seem to blame her, either for what had transpired in the drawing room or the lack of contact afterwards.
Hermione had been surprised and secretly overjoyed when the messages had continued and changed into a long-distance conversation. Through the Patronus messages Malfoy had opened up to her in a way he'd never done before and finally she'd started to gain an inside in what occupied Malfoy's mind. She'd learned about his interests and his daily activities. She had come to know that the potion he'd given her to help her to her feet had been of his own making. And she came to understand the changes in him years after his transformed attitude had caught her interest at Hogwarts.
The moment the ferret would appear in the room, the glow keeping the darkness at bay, had become the highlight of Hermione's day. Every night she retreated early with a book, only to put it aside when Malfoy's Patronus softly called her name. His quiet interest in her had smartened her up after a long period of only living up to expectations from the outside world. And he'd shared with her personal feelings he wouldn't have entrusted with anyone else.
In return she'd confided in him, imparting her hopes and doubts to him and at his request had told him about her early youth in the Muggle world. He'd offered support when she'd needed it and she hoped she'd done the same.
And then she had betrayed him.
Of course, she had done it to protect him, to shield him from the storm that was unleashed upon her, mindful of Harry's warning words. And while she'd tried to explain her reasons to Malfoy she'd known that in the end to protect him meant to betray him. It hurt her more than she'd thought was possible and while she should have been thinking about Ron, most of the time it had been Malfoy's serious features that had occupied her mind.
About two weeks ago the press had finally lost interest in Hermione's love life as the wizarding world started to prepare for Christmas. The whispering behind her back and the furtive looks following her at work decreased spectacularly and Hermione had finally started to hope for her life returning to normal.
But her whole world collapsed the day she'd seen the personal announcement in The Daily Prophet, giving notice of the engagement between Miss Astoria Greengrass and Mr. Draco Malfoy. The breath was knocked out of her and stars appeared before her eyes as the dry message had sunk in.
She had been saved from utter despair washing over her by a hesitant voice calling her name.
"Miss Granger?"
Hermione's head had shot up and through the mist in her eyes she'd seen that one of her inspectors had been lingering at the door, clearly unsure if it was the right time to disturb Miss Granger.
"Yes. Come in, please," Hermione had hastily acknowledged the younger woman, hoping that she didn't notice her choking voice. "What's the matter?"
"It's… this letter, Miss. It has just arrived by owl. Perhaps, you should read it…" The inspector's voice had trailed away and not until then Hermione had noticed that she had been holding a disheveled piece of parchment in her hand.
Wearily she'd extended her hand and started to decipher the scribbles on it.
Then her eyes had widened.
On the 24th of December it started to snow. From his favourite spot at the window of his study Draco watched the world turning white with a sombre look on his face. The crystalline precipitation had also been falling from the sky the day that Granger had arrived on his doorstep. There also had been snow when she'd been teaching him the Patronus spell.
As soon as Draco realised his train of thoughts he cut them off, a frown on his face. Instead he looked down on the small, leather box in his hand.
Astoria had finally agreed to meet him and the box was empty now. Resignedly, Draco put it in his pocket. He was getting control of his life again.
Draco picked up the book he'd been reading when he was startled by the harsh sound of the magical doorbell ringing through the quiet Manor. With a disgruntled look Draco crossed the room.
Who would dare disturb the peace at the Manor on the 24th of December was beyond him. He could think of no one else but some reporter, seeking to stimulate the dying fire on their fabricated stories about him and Granger.
As he swung open the door to his study he decided he would confront the unwelcome visitor himself. Briskly he crossed the hallway and shook his head to his mother who had emerged from the upstairs drawing room with an equally disturbed expression.
Seeing the irritation on her son's face, Narcissa understood he wasn't expecting anyone and with a gracious nod she closed the door again. He would be taking care of this.
Halfway down the grand staircase Draco noticed that Squeaky had already reached the front door and reached out for the magical horn. His ears bobbed slightly when he looked over his shoulder, saw his Master and flinched at seeing his scowl.
"Master Draco?" He asked with a trembling voice and Draco nodded his consent. He put his hand on the bannister and waited.
"Who is it?" The house-elf squeaked through the magical horn. "Do you have an appointment?"
After a moment of silence an unfamiliar voice replied formally, "This is the Inspection on Elfish Labour Conditions. We're here for an unannounced repeat inspection. Please, open the gate."
The silence in the entrance hall was deafening.
Draco stood rooted to the spot and suddenly his thoughts were a whirling chaos of anger and resentment. They had returned. Despite their favourable decision, they had returned. And through it all a wild, uncontrolled hope ripped through his rage.
Could it be possible…? Had she returned?
He clenched the bannister as he fiercely tried to quash the treacherous hope that threatened to undo all of his efforts to get on with his life. Only vaguely he registered that his house-elf seemed to be petrified for some reason. It was looking at Draco with wide, shocked eyes and his ears bobbed helplessly as he waited for Draco to respond.
Draco's voice was barely more than a whisper when he finally managed to say, "On what grounds?"
After another tense moment the tinny voice responded, "We've received a complaint that needs to be investigated and under article 3.16 of the Law Concerning the Protection of House-Elves you'll have to grant us access, sir."
Draco closed his eyes.
She hadn't initiated this inspection and therefore probably would not be joining her inspectors. The brutal disappointment washing over him at the realisation had him resort to Occlumency to compartment his mind and recollect his thoughts.
Whatever the complaint might entail it had to be dealt with as quickly as possible.
His regular features had hardened by a grim expression when he nodded at Squeaky.
Squeaky carefully opened the heavy door and revealed the two young inspectors who had visited the Manor before. Politely they acknowledged him as he came down the stairs and positioned himself before them.
Draco looked at them with an icy glare in his eyes.
"Two weeks ago I received a final decision from your Department in which was clearly stated that Malfoy Manor wouldn't be included in the inspection schedule for it least two years. Now you return to my house when it's almost Christmas. I would like to know what the meaning is of all this."
The two inspectors flinched slightly under his gaze but then the witch seemed to remember her training and put a brave face on.
"Please know that we're well aware of the unfortunate moment, Mr. Malfoy. But as you know the decision also stated that a repeat inspection could be in order in case of a complaint."
Draco frowned and gave her a hard stare.
"A complaint by whom?"
"A house-elf."
Suddenly, a soft moan escaped the little creature next to Draco. As Draco slowly turned his gaze the house-elf let his big ears hang and his shoulders drooped, while it conspicuously avoided to look at its Master. Now Draco noticed the plasters on its leathery hands and finally he understood why his Barn Owl Escuin had gone missing the other day. He groaned inside.
"Squeaky is sorry, Master," the house-elf spoke on the smallest of voices and shrunk when Master pinched his nose, sighing wearily.
"You should lead the inspectors to the kitchen, Squeaky. I think they will have a few questions for you to answer. And we should take a look at your hands afterwards."
Why the house-elf had resorted to filing a complaint was beyond him but Draco wanted the inspectors out of his house as soon as possible.
As the inspectors followed the dismayed house-elf to the kitchen, Draco shook his head and went to close the heavy door himself, when he heard the soft voice.
"May I come in?"
It was a lovely voice, soft but not too sweet and the words were spoken hesitantly but it had the effect of someone dropping a house on him. His heart for a moment and everything started to swim before his eyes.
There had been two inspectors. Only two inspectors standing at his door for this wretched repeat inspection. He was sure of it. Still, there it was, the voice he'd recognise at all times and which suddenly had his heart hammering in his chest.
Automatically, he reopened the door and looked down on the only person who could elicit such a fierce reaction from him.
"Hermione."
Hermione watched in slight fear as the door reopened and revealed the silhouette of Draco Malfoy. Involuntarily, she held her breath.
Standing tall in the doorway, he looked down on her silently. His chiseled features were tense despite his effort to hide his emotions behind a mask of impassiveness and the piercing gaze in his steel grey eyes seemed to cut right through her. Her first name had escaped his lips almost like a sigh, but now his grey eyes had changed to cold mirrors, reflecting nothing but her own image.
It had cost Hermione all of the courage she could muster to return to the grim and inaccessible Malfoy Manor. Had it been only six weeks ago since she had been standing here at his doorstep? When she'd read the letter by the house-elf Squeaky she didn't hesitate though and had jumped to the opportunity.
"Granger… I didn't know you would be honouring us with your presence," he repeated the words he'd said six weeks ago, but now with a bitter quality to them.
That time she'd reacted indignantly, now she only slightly bowed her hooded head and softly repeated the words she'd said only a minute ago.
"May I come in?"
It was her. It really was her. She was here, looking at him with a worried expression in her caramel eyes and her gleaming curls blew from underneath the hood of the cloak.
Eagerly, he drank in the features he'd missed so much. She was paler than he remembered and a bit drawn from weariness, but still so beautiful.
Then he had heard himself longingly saying her first name and he'd cut himself off immediately.
"Is the inspectorate still not functioning to your satisfaction, Granger?"
Malfoy didn't succeed completely in keeping the bitter quality from his voice as he let her in. Hesitantly, she stepped into the grand hallway and vaguely noticed that the enormous vases flanking the staircase now contained a seasonal bouquet with white poinsettias. The entrance staircase was decorated tastefully with enlightened festoons.
Lowering the hood of her cloak she looked him in the eye.
"No."
Malfoy's eyes narrowed at her response.
"Then why come back, Granger?"
"Because your house-elf asked me to."
It was an answer Malfoy clearly had not expected. Taken aback, he opened and closed his mouth before being able to ask, "He did? Why?"
Hermione chose to ignore that. Instead she asked on an urgent tone, "Can I speak with you in private?"
When he hesitated, she added softly, "Please."
Malfoy's eyes flashed from her to the staircase, then he finally nodded curtly.
"Come with me."
Quietly, she followed him expecting him to take her to one of the Manor's drawing rooms. But to her surprise he took her to his own study instead. When he invited her in with a curt hand wave Hermione hesitantly stepped inside. The study took her breath away.
It was a spacious room clad with bookcases reaching up to the ceiling and an enormous desk in the centre. Two small, elegant armchairs and a low table stood underneath a large, multi-pane window, which was partially hidden by a heavily embroidered, brocade curtain.
It was the most beautiful study she'd ever seen.
Draco leaned against his desk, arms folded before his chest in an unyielding pose.
"I would have offered you some tea, but the house-elves are busy as it is…" he commented a bit bitingly, but fell silent when he took in the sight of Granger slowly walking around in his study, her eyes scanning the mahogany bookcases.
The weak sunlight coming from the window lit up her gleaming curls as she took in the hundreds of books stored in there and Draco could tell she was impressed, but at the moment the books interested him less than the sight of her standing in his study and drinking in the suppressed excitement on her beautiful features, the light in her caramel eyes.
His features softened and he felt some of the bitterness leaving his body.
When she finally approached him he watched her with a troubled gaze. Just when he'd decided to forget about her and go on with his life, she had come back. And now she was looking at him again with those caramel eyes that were the reason he didn't summon his Patronus anymore. She was standing so very close that he only needed to reach out to touch her hair.
Fleetingly, Draco wondered how much time they would have before her inspectors would discover there hadn't appeared any wrongs in the Malfoy household since their last inspection, they would take Granger with them and this moment would only seem to be a figment of his cruel imagination.
"You're wearing black again."
He noticed that she was looking at him with a hint of regret and a shiver went through him. It seemed like yesterday that she had been resting in his arms, telling him how she liked that he didn't wear black anymore.
"Does that bother you?"
After his initial confusion about her strange and out of place remark, her whispered words had actually amused him. He had hoped she didn't notice his breathing picking up pace at having her in his arms while her head rested against his shoulder.
She'd shaken her head, her lovely face pale as she'd closed her eyes. "No, you look less scary that way."
The honest answer had made a shiver go down his spine and involuntarily he'd pulled her more tightly against him, before he'd managed to reply.
She had fallen asleep with her head intimately placed against his collarbone, a vague smile playing around her lips.
For a moment he had stayed with her this way on the blue Persian rug, his arms protectively wrapped around her and finally he'd buried his face in her soft curls as he gave in to his feelings of guilt and regret toward her.
He still remembered the soothing, flowery scent of her hair as he'd whispered chokingly, "I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm so sorry."
Then he had scooped her up and carried her out of the drawing room to meet the startled inspectors with a grim and determined expression about his mouth.
Resisting the urge to let his fingers slide through her curls Draco forced his thoughts to safer grounds.
"You asked to speak with me," he established matter-of-factly, inviting her to come to business.
Granger gave a small nod, then said softly, "I want to congratulate you on your engagement. I read about it in the newspaper."
Draco merely nodded in acknowledgement, without happiness. He knew she wasn't here to congratulate him.
Then she took a deep breath and bowed her head.
"I… missed seeing your Patronus."
Draco's face darkened at the confession.
"Is there a point to this?" He replied sharply.
Hermione swallowed at his reprimanding words. Malfoy was looking down on her coldly and his pose was guarded. He was completely closed off from her.
Of course. What had she expected? He was protecting himself. Protecting himself against the Gryffindor, Harry Potter's best friend, who kept barging in on his life only to leave behind a mess every time she did so. And what for? What did she need with him who had been her most bitter enemy at school that she repeatedly disregarded all warnings from Harry?
Distancing herself from him she went to stand by the window and looked down at the garden below her, slumbering in hibernation. As she looked outside she wondered what could have possessed her to decide to come along with the inspectors. In hindsight she hadn't thought this through at all. All she had known until now was that she wanted to grasp the opportunity to speak with Malfoy, to explain to him why she had cut all contact with him. But now that she was here standing in Malfoy's study, she didn't know where to start and her heart sank.
She looked down and her eye fell on the book lying open on the small table before her. A well-thumbed Slytherin bookmark from Malfoy's schooldays divided the pages.
Almost automatically, she leaned forward and picked it up. It had been long since she'd seen one of those. Every student at Hogwarts had owned a pair of House bookmarks, handed out to them in their first year. Towards the seventh year however most of the bookmarks were lost in the chaos that was student life.
Hermione softly rubbed her thumb over the Slytherin seal embossed in the thick, dark green parchment. The bookmark reminded her of something. She closed her eyes and tightened her hold on the bookmark as she asked softly, "What did you tell that little Slytherin boy, when you were late for Patronus lessons?"
"Excuse me?"
Malfoy's voice was low, disbelieving, almost threatening and barely concealed anger flashed over his features when he came to stand before her.
"Is that what you came here to ask me? What I said to the boy, back then?" He snarled and one fleeting moment Hermione thought he actually looked… disappointed. Then he grimly shook his head.
"I have no time for this... I think you'd better..."
"That was the question I had wanted to ask you…" Hermione cut him off as she raised her eyes to meet his and drew in a shallow breath. "… before I saw no other way than to stop our conversation..."
Her voice grew a little hoarse, "… to protect you."
"… to protect you."
The words resounded in Draco's ears as she looked at him in a silent plea for understanding. And suddenly he knew he'd been wrong about this the entire time. She had shut down all communication with him, not out of regret, but most probably as a result of some misplaced warning from Potter when The Daily Prophet had started publishing those wretched pictures of them. She had wanted to protect him.
He clenched his teeth as he was painfully reminded of how The Golden Trio must see him - the former Death Eater turned good, in need of their benevolent protection as he hid from the world in his countryside manor. It sickened him to think that she of all people would look upon him like that as well after all that had happened.
"I wasn't aware that I needed protection against anything, Granger," he spat bitterly, trying to bite back the bile from the humiliation and the soaring hurt.
Only vaguely did he register that her expression actually became a little reproachful, as if she'd expected more of him.
"Don't you understand? If someone had intercepted our Patronuses… You would have gotten the blame, entirely."
Draco understood what she silently left out. The blame for her break-up with Ron Weasley.
She bowed her head.
"I didn't want you to be drawn into… this. It would be unfair to you… especially after… I had already burdened you with far too many of my problems and after all you have done for me, it was time for me start acting like a Gryffindor as well and keep you out of harm's way."
Draco waited silently.
"They tried," she continued softly and with tears in her voice. "And while The Daily Prophet did have some blurry pictures, that was all they had. Just imagine if that wouldn't have been the case…"
A silence descended between them and Draco felt his anger flowing off entirely.
She was right. Of course she was right. The level of their communication had been so personal, so vulnerable that he shuddered at the thought of the messages falling into the hands of that rat from The Daily Prophet. And while she and the moronic redhead could do nothing wrong in the eyes of the wizarding world the public eye would probably have turned against him, a former follower of the Dark Lord, for seducing the light of The Golden Trio. She'd taken all of the blame to prevent that.
With a bleeding heart he looked down on her bowed head and saw a lonely tear escape from her eye. He could see how much she'd suffered and he fought the urge to wrap his arms around her. Apparently she had no idea what the visits of her otter had meant to him. The use of the word 'burden' couldn't have been further away from the truth.
Hermione held her breath when Malfoy slowly raised his hand and gently wiped away the salty moist of the tear rolling down her cheek. His fingers lingered on her skin longer than necessary and Hermione shivered at the tender touch, causing even more tears to well up in her eyes.
"You shouldn't have done that, Hermione," he whispered regretfully. "It wasn't worth it. I'm not worth it."
Hermione bowed her head and as she heard her name fall from his lips again, the tears now started to flow over her cheeks freely as relief about his understanding and sadness over the past weeks finally found a way out. Horrified, she turned away to hide them from view.
"I'm sorry," she choked. "It will pass."
It was what Harry had said when the first pictures had started to appear in the newspaper. Such awful times had followed. Bitter tears continued to roll down her cheeks.
Through a mist of tears she noticed that Malfoy drew his wand and whispered forcefully, "Expecto Patronum!"
A silver light suddenly surrounded them and she heard him quietly order the ferret to go stand guard.
"Hermione."
The coldness had completely disappeared from his voice, now sounding softer than ever before.
"Hermione, please…"
She didn't have it in her to look up at him.
"I'm sorry."
Her heart stopped when she felt warm fingers gently cup her chin and carefully lift it until their eyes met. Blinking away the tears she saw an infinite tenderness in his that took her breath away.
"Don't be ashamed," he said quietly, "I'm glad you came back."
He pulled back his hand, taking a stray curl between his fingers. With a gentle gesture he tucked it behind her ear and allowed his fingers to lace through her hair.
Hermione froze. Then she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.
She didn't know if she imagined him whispering her name again but then the world stopped turning when she felt his lips on hers.
It was a fleeting caress, meant to disappear the moment she registered the sensation but Hermione subconsciously parted her lips against his. Malfoy's breath hitched in surprise but then his fingers buried themselves in her hair and as Hermione's heart suddenly raced in her chest he leaned in to deepen the kiss.
At that moment Malfoy suddenly jerked up his head and stepped back from her. A fierce pang of loss shot through Hermione but then she noticed that the ferret had returned to the study. Something was wrong.
As Malfoy turned towards the Patronus, Hermione let out a trembling breath and mentally she scolded herself. What had she been doing? Whatever Malfoy had done had only been intended to console her. His surprise when she moved closer to him made that much clear. He was engaged to be wed to Astoria Greengrass, for Merlin's sake.
A wave of nausea washed over her at the bitter reminder of that fact but she didn't have time to dwell on it because Malfoy had turned around and shot her a watchful look.
"They're coming up."
Draco sat down behind his desk quickly, trying to compose himself while still feeling Granger's lips on his. He had acted on impulse when he saw her tears, silent witnesses of what she'd gone through the past few weeks.
For him.
He didn't know what he had been thinking when he leaned in for the featherlight caress of her lips but the moment she'd responded to him an incredibly forceful longing had washed over him and he'd leaned in.
He tried not think of what this would mean for his engagement to Astoria.
When he heard the knock on the door Draco quickly glanced at Granger and saw that she'd taken a seat in his arm chair by the window. The last rays of the wintery sun cast a golden glow on her chestnut curls as she looked outside with a melancholy expression on her face. It made her look almost ethereal.
A bitter line hardened Draco's mouth when they knocked again.
"Miss Granger?"
Draco sighed inwardly as he drawled, "Come in."
The door opened and Granger's two inspectors entered the study, looking a bit bashful.
Granger put down the book she'd picked up only seconds ago with an air as if she'd been reading it for the past half hour.
"Yes?"
Draco's gaze followed her as she rose to he feet, secretly admiring her grace as she did so.
"Miss Granger. There has been no wrong doing in the Malfoy household since the last inspection. The house-elf has confessed that he merely wanted to see you… and as he had read the final decision, figured this would be the easiest way…"
Despite himself, Draco had to bite back an appreciative smile as the inspectors told their story, still a bit overwhelmed. Clever Squeaky. He remembered giving the letter from the Ministry to the house-elf to file it.
Granger lifted one eyebrow in mild surprise, subconsciously copying the person who sat behind his desk and Draco felt his heart skip a beat at the subtle acknowledgment.
"Did the house-elf also say why?" She asked in a businesslike manner, easily turning into the Ministry official she also was.
The inspectors shook their heads in confusion.
"No, he only stated that he likes Miss Hermione…"
This made Draco narrow his eyes in dismay, recognising the meaning behind the house-elf's use of her first name. The nuance went by unnoticed by the inspectors and Granger though.
"I think it's better that we not make a report of this," Granger said thoughtfully.
"Miss Granger, because of his request he has ironed his hands and then ironed them again because he isn't allowed to hurt himself anymore," one of the inspectors interjected a bit helplessly. "According to article 7.3…"
"I know of article 7.3," Hermione cut him off and sighed before turning to Draco.
"Mister Malfoy," she addressed him formally. "This is an unfortunate situation. We were called in on Christmas Eve by a house-elf who had no sustainable complaint but has hurt himself in the process. According to the regulations we cannot let that factor pass unnoticed."
Draco nodded thoughtfully.
"I understand. Naturally, I apologise for the inconvenience caused."
His smooth reply was at sharp contrast with the erratic beating of his heart.
"However, since there has been no wrong doing caused by the family and the house-elf has clearly acted outside the vision of the family to see me personally, we can deal with this by giving a first warning to encourage the family to better check on injuries with house-elves caused by themselves."
The inspectors listened silently, while Draco watched Granger explaining to him what he already knew. Had it been only minutes ago that he'd felt her lips on his?
"Mister Malfoy, is Malfoy Manor committed to upholding the rules on self-punishments by house-elves and is Malfoy Manor willing to ensure compliance with these rules will be supervised?"
Draco's face was unreadable when he slowly nodded. "I am."
"Then I'd better go down to the kitchen and before we leave have a proper meeting with…"
"Squeaky," Draco evenly finished her sentence for her.
"Squeaky," Hermione seriously repeated the odd name, nodding at him before she turned toward the inspectors.
"When your findings appear to be right, I suggest we resolve this the way I just described. Agreed?"
The inspectors opened the door, glad to be able to go home, when the female inspector's eye caught the book Hermione had been reading the moment they had entered the study.
"Miss Granger? Erm, you forget your book."
Hermione slowly turned around, wondering what the inspector was hinting at and her eye fell on the book that had been there on the table when she'd first entered the study. Earlier, she'd been studying the Slytherin bookmark resting on the pages but naturally she'd also noticed the paper pages, the modern typography, the linen binding. This was a Muggle book.
Following worn in rules of expectation and prejudice the young inspector now assumed that this book could only belong to her Muggle born chief.
Helplessly, Hermione turned toward Malfoy and for a moment she thought she saw something sparkle in his otherwise so cool, grey eyes. Unnoticed by the inspectors he nodded and mouthed, 'take it.'
Slowly, Hermione approached the table and picked up his book, making sure to remove the Slytherin bookmark before closing it carefully.
The house-elf had been terrified but had replied to Hermione's friendly questions anyway as Malfoy had been looking on with a gloomy expression in his eyes. Without ceremony the inspectors then announced they'd seen enough and were ready to leave.
When passing Malfoy on her way out Hermione imagined that saw her own regret mirroring in his eyes. For a moment she hesitated, then bowing her head she whispered, "Merry Christmas… Draco."
Never before Draco had felt so lost as now that he had to let Granger go again. Even Squeaky seemed sad when he snapped his fingers and disappeared from the hallway. Granger's whispered words had knocked the breath out of him. She'd called him by his first name and it had sounded wonderful.
"So, what are you going to do now?"
Draco closed his eyes, avoiding to look at the person belonging to that elegant, yet somewhat disapproving voice.
"I don't know, mother."
Everything had been so clear this morning but now all that remained was an unbearable longing to stop the supervising inspector from going away and take her in his arms, never to let go.
Finally he met his mother's ice blue eyes. The look he saw in there he didn't expect. She was staring at him with a knowing, demanding but above all... encouraging gaze.
He straightened up.
Narcissa watched as her son's eyes, looking so much like his father's, filled with a new determination. He rushed up the stairs with two steps at a time, touching her shoulder in passing.
The sound of his brisk steps echoed through the marble hallway as he hastened towards his study and Narcissa bowed her head, a melancholy expression on her features.
Half an hour later, Draco dried his quill and took an envelope from the drawer. Then he opened the window and whistled softly. It wasn't long before his Barn Owl landed on his windowsill.
"I need you to take this note to Theodore, Escuin. And don't leave him alone until he's taken the envelope," Draco said with emphasis.
The bird blinked his big, yellow eyes, then opened his majestic wings and went on his way to Draco's probably very smug friend.
Theodore,
Can you get me an invitation to the Ministry? It's important.
Draco
A/N: I want to thank all of you who have reviewed the last chapter. I'm really grateful for the encouraging and enthusiastic responses, so naturally I'm very curious how you like the new chapter.
A lot of you asked about Hermione and I'm glad that her point of view is returning in this chapter.
Thank you for reading!
