A/N 1. So, as you may be able to tell I wrote this chapter at the start of May in the height of my UK general election fever! I had a lot of fun listening to and adapting real political debate (mostly about immigration/housing, & big thanks to the muggle version of Nigellus Mirage for giving me so much to work with) into something that resembles an anti muggle born agenda. It was surprisingly easy. Sorry if this seems kind of dry and politics isn't your thing but I promise it's relevant and not totally self indulgent! Plenty of juicy stuff will happen later on in the evening I promise.
A/N 2. Dear Sulador. Thank you for your kind review! I also need to thank you for giving my story another chance and I hope you do the same again this week. Your threat doesn't please me at all. Despite being somewhat put out by all your corrections, and while I still don't have a beta, you have actually caused me to be more thorough with my proofreading. I do need to add however, that I hope you weren't thanking me for Pete's concern over your RL friends. It is not my style to leave a fake review just to answer a guest quickly! I answer all my reviews either privately, or like this. (It's been very frustrating waiting till now to address this, especially as I don't even know if you'll read it!)
A/N 3. On that note, thank you so much to the lovely guest for your review! I simply loved receiving it! :)
The Cracks Begin to Show
Hermione left her office and flooed home at 3pm. It was a Friday and one of the last left of the summer before term started on September the 1st. After a gruelling, yet very successful week she felt she deserved an ever so slightly longer weekend. Once upon a time, this thought would be have hastily quashed, but it was safe to say although still extremely driven, Hermione's work ethic had mellowed slightly over the years. She actually allowed herself to relax every now and again (as long as all the work was done of course.)
Hermione dropped her briefcase on her kitchen table, slipped off her loafers and pulled off her tights. She opened up the windows to air the stuffy kitchen and switched on the wizarding wireless, pleased to hear she was catching the start of the afternoon play. She picked a recipe book from the shelf next to the fridge and flicked through it. Harry was having a barbecue that evening and she decided she would use her free afternoon to make him a desert. Hermione knew her efforts with muggle cooking were successful per say, but she enjoyed the physical reprieve it provided from the endless whirl of thoughts of work.
When the cake mix was divided between two cases and in the oven, Hermione placed the radio under the window, turned it up, poured herself a glass of water and stepped through the backdoor and outside into her modest garden. The rain starved lawn crunched under her bare feet as she walked to the deckchair she had placed under the kitchen window. She settled herself down in it, laid back and popped on a pair of sunglasses. The sky was a stunning deep blue, crisscrossed with vapour trails of aeroplanes taking people away on their summer holidays. She hitched her skirt up to her thighs and relaxed in the heat. Who needed a holiday abroad when London felt like the Mediterranean?
"That was 'Cross the Bridge' written by Jenny Holmes and produced by the Wireless Players Company. The time is 3.30pm and now it's time for the news with Jeremy Wick." The soothing voice of the radio DJ drifted from the kitchen window behind Hermione's head as a pigeon cooed in the distance.
"Thank you Mavis. Today's top story. Terrorist group Svoboda are feared to have struck again, this time on a small Alpine village in North West Slovenia. One witch and ten muggles are confirmed dead, Twelve muggles missing though presumed dead." Hermione shifted in her seat. "The deaths is being blamed on a local landslide but intelligence suggests that the pureblood supremacist terrorist group is behind it. International leaders have been quick to condemn the attack and talks are currently being scheduled between heads of states of the bordering countries over a course of action." Hermione couldn't help but notice it was only after a witch had been killed that the leaders had begun to take it seriously. It was always the same.
Hermione was stirred from her ruminations by the jingle signalling the end of the news and the return of Mavis the DJ. "It is 3:35pm and is now time for the Daily Politics Show. Joining me today we have Deputy Treasurer for the opposition, the Wizarding Independence Party, Percy Weasley, and Deputy Minister for the Social Democrats, Cassandra Morgan. Today on the show my guests will be talking about that most controversial of topics: Social Mobility." The two politicians greeted the host and listeners and Hermione sat up a little straighter. Percy Weasley's nasal voice had barely changed since school. Hermione half expected him to start extolling the benefits of spending the entire weekend in the library.
The two began debating, political buzzwords and slogans rolling off their tongues with ease. Hermione had never really heard Percy Weasley speak in his official capacity and she was curious to hear what years and years of political manoeuvring had done to him. Would he still be the same, simpering brown-noser he had been under Fudge? Predictably neither politicians seemed to be focusing solely on the topic of the debate, both using it instead as a platform to push their party's policy.
"We have to look at the facts here, Mavis" Percy said. "Unemployment is going up. Wizards and witches who previously would have been able to find work, are finding themselves with less options and are unable to support themselves at their families. The WIP is the only party out there who is willing to say what everybody is thinking: with more and more muggle borns flooding our job market and taking the positions that would previously been taken by pure and half bloods, we are actively encouraging the children of older families to have a worse life."
"Such statements have not been heard in a great many years, Mr Weasley." The host replied.
"Of course, it is an uncomfortable issue, but we believe that the politically correct government has been so scared to alienate it's voters and be brushed with the same stick as those supporters of You-Know-Who, that they have actively buried their heads in the sand and made the situation ten times worse." Cassandra Morgan spoke up at this point.
"I have to disagree with you there Mr Weasley. You cannot make the children that are coming into our society the scapegoats for our economic problems."
"Fine, not the children, but the adults allowing it to happen." Percy interrupted.
"Yes, there is currently a sluggish economy," Cassandra continued smoothly. "But this slump is to be expected after the economic boom we saw immediately after the war. Naturally there will be a downturn in employment, but we have to learn from the lessons of the past and not heap blame on a group that doesn't deserve it. The problem is not that muggle borns are filling the only jobs available, but that currently there are not enough positions being created. This is something that the government is striding to correct."
"You must admit though that for social mobility to occur: for a poor, gifted, muggle born wizard to rise to the top, then someone must fall to take his place. This could be my child, it could be yours and you would hate for it to happen. But you are dismissing these valid concerns as prejudice."
"It is prejudice. You are exploiting people's fears, instead of addressing them. It is a deep injustice when birth is destiny. Our government has encouraged fair chances and real freedom."
"By putting in place arbitrary quotas for muggle borns in government and business? You say this is a true meritocracy but how is this correct when you are still basing a persons suitability for the job on their birth status? You cannot have it both ways."
"Mr Weasley, We cannot be ideological about muggle borns. That is how we ended up in the last war. We have to be pragmatic, practical and understand that muggle borns bring something new to society, and the quotas are a practical solution."
"I agree with you Mrs Morgan, but the WIP believes, and so does most of the magical population by this point, that we have reached breaking point where our culture is being lost, traditions are going in favour of muggle ones." The host cut back in at this point.
"Mr Weasley, how do you react to a certain member of your party stating, and this is a direct quote: 'The barely magical children that Burbage High are introducing to our society are polluting and weakening the blood even further" Percy could be heard shifting in his seat. He coughed nervously.
"I cannot condone such rogue talk; it is the policy of the WIP to focus on culture and tradition as being lost. I truly represent my party's and Nigellus Mirage's personal views when I say that I do not support blood prejudice. However, as for Burbage High it is a major part of the problem, if not the root. I do know Miss Granger personally, and while I must admit that she is a very powerful witch, that does not mean that she is qualified to be leading the instruction on the next generation of witches and wizards."
Hermione's ears rang as she was inevitably dragged into the argument and she opened her eyes, staring unseeingly at the sky. "She is a prime example of one of the hypocritical liberal elite. Muggle born, extremely talented, and she flourished due to the education she received at Hogwarts. Education that she is now denying children by pretending to offer them a better equivalent at Burbage." Her pulse quickened under the unfairness of the accusation and she felt an indignant anger surge through her. Quickly the sun was becoming too hot and she gulped down half of her water.
Percy Weasley's annoying voice went on. "We know that what is being taught in that school is not equipping children with the knowledge of what it truly means to be part of our society."
"Can I point out, that Burbage is not taking students from Hogwarts, but mostly offers an education to those Hogwarts overlooks. For example, those who cannot afford to attend the fee paying Hogwarts and who don't receive scholarships." Cassandra interrupted. Thank you Mrs Morgan, Hermione thought, scowling as Percy's voice cut back in.
"Please, let me continue. For those flooding into our society, how many more muggle centric things must we put up with them introducing? For example; the infiltration of muggle medicine into our own practices. The catastrophic results that have occurred from muggle medication reacting unpredictably with magic. The warnings were there, but medi witches and wizards naively dismissed them. How many more deaths must there be?"
"Yes, that was extremely unfortunate, and in hindsight more experimentation should have taken place, but our potion masters and healers are currently experimenting in the labs on safe ways that muggle medicine can be combined with magic."
"And the infiltration of muggle entertainment into peoples homes." He continued, ignoring her response. "Whereas once a family may have entertained themselves over a game of chess, gathering around the wireless for a good play, or even the simple pleasure of reading; they are now sitting slumped on sofas glued to muggle televisions, passively being entertained. Our culture is being lost, and no one in the current government seems to mind. It is stamping out the thirst for knowledge, the passion for magic itself, and the rich intricacies of our society."
At this point, Mavis brought the debate back on track and Hermione tuned out. Bloody Percy Weasley and his strangely convincing argument. Apparently he'd turned into quite the emotive public speaker. Even more bad PR for the school, as this time, the Wizarding Independence Party representative had managed to sound almost sensible. The party had made a good decision employing someone as logical and bright as he was, and not the usual type of old cretin spouting backwards, prejudice diatribe. It was typical of the WIP to use any opportunity to push their own anti muggle agenda, but once you actually paid attention to what Percy had been saying, you couldn't help being drawn in...
Though of course she could do without Burbage being scapegoated for the country's ills. Yet again, as with Malfoy, (though Hermione was quick to quash that thread of thought) people seemed hell bent on accusing her school as breeding a generation of uncultured philistines. And that was so unfair. The brightest, most talented children at her school were hungry to be part of the wizarding world and were keen to offer their talents to its betterments. There must be some thing I can do to appease people to make them stop attacking us, without it looking like we're bending to their prejudice.
Suddenly the witch couldn't stand to be in the sun any longer. She had finished her glass of water and her hair was sticking scratchily to her sticky back. She went into the house and decided that she may as well go to Harry's early. She turned off the radio, removed the cake from the oven, put it on a rack to cool and went upstairs to shower and change.
45 Minutes later Hermione flooed into Harry Potter's living room, cake in hand, and paused on her way to the kitchen door. She distinctly heard two male voices, but one had an awfully familiar drawling tone to it. She frowned, she didn't know any friends of Harry's who sounded that posh, and she had thought that this evening was just for close friends and family. She crossed to the door, a small frown appearing between her brows and pushed it open. The elegantly slumped figure of Draco Malfoy was perched on a stool at Harry's island unit in the middle of the room, idly twirling his wand between his fingers. She froze. What the HELL is Malfoy doing here?! He looked round at her and an amused smile lit up his features.
"Hermione!" Harry said, looking up at her in surprise. "I wasn't expecting anyone until six!" Is that what you've got to say to me, Harry? Not, sorry I didn't tell you that Malfoy was making a surprise appearance at my kitchen table, she thought wildly. Harry glanced nervously at the blond and back at her. He cleared his throat. "I er, bumped into Malfoy in Diagon Alley earlier. We got chatting, and um, I invited him back. I did text you..." Hermione's eyes widened. Harry knew that she was crap at keeping her muggle phone charged and on. She didn't even know where it was.
"I thought you said only family were coming, Potter?" Malfoy drawled.
"Hermione is family! She's basically my sister." Harry told him, walking towards her.
"I'll explain, later. Trust me." Harry whispered in her ear through gritted teeth as he took the cake off her.
"You better." She whispered back, trying to calm down. Her palms were prickling uncomfortably, and she looked at Malfoy nervously. Ever since the debacle that had been his son's interview, her thoughts had returned again and again to the blond wizard. After a few days of obsessively and then tiredly re living the episode it had gained that kind of fussy, exaggerated quality when a memory has been so studied she wasn't sure if what she was remembering was real or imagined. A screen memory. She really ought to buy a pensieve.
In the end she had pulled herself together after trying to examine why exactly it was bothering her so much; she was still a logical witch, despite this rather startling evidence to the contrary. She had decided it was her lack of professionalism that had been keeping her up at night, the fact it was Draco Malfoy was neither here nor there.
But now as she looked at him slouched at Harry's table, grey eyes lazily lingering on her face, his old smirk twisting up the corners of his lips in a joke that only he knew, she suddenly felt incredibly exposed. He opened his mouth and spoke, but it was only a few moments later that Hermione realised it had been directed at her. She blinked stupidly. "What?" She croaked. So much for the cordial professional interaction she had rehearsed for their next meeting. Malfoy laughed loudly and Hermione noticed Harry's mouth quirk up in amusement as he busied himself putting the cake in the fridge.
"I'm not going to bite, Granger. You look like I'm about to eat you." He drawled, mouth twisting again in a smirk. She baulked at his choice of words.
"I- um, I'm sorry, this is just a bit of a surprise." She managed to say.
"Come on Hermione," Harry was back at her side, leading her away from the door and into the kitchen as if she couldn't manage it herself. "What can I get you to drink? I was just telling Malfoy here about my meeting today in Diagon Alley." He deposited Hermione near the sink and she leant back on the counter, grateful that he hadn't tried to make her take a seat next to Malfoy.
"What meeting, Harry? And, er, a tea please." She said, attempting to recover her composure. And please tell me what this man is doing in your kitchen and why you're both acting as if it's the most normal thing in the world?
"Well, I haven't told you, as I know how busy you've been recently, but I've been working on a small business idea. I've been at my lawyers and Gringots today applying for a patent and working out the finances." He said, getting out three mugs and switching on the kettle.
"Wow, Harry - that's - what is it?" Okay, don't tell me. I can pretend this situation is totally normal too. She tried to focus on what he was telling her and not the blond elephant in the room.
"Well for quite a while now I've been using and making charms and wards that mean that muggles can take part in my events and parties."
"I've noticed. Like at your birthday? I meant to ask you about that, but got distracted by whole Daily Post disaster." She muttered, glancing at Malfoy who raised his eyebrows suggestively. She valiantly ignored him.
"Don't worry, but yes, exactly. The muggle can see magic taking place around them, but they'll accept it instead of it scaring them. When they leave the warded area they'll forget what they saw. This is because when the memory was formed it never quite took hold, meaning no need for something as strong as an obliviate. The ward formed a kind of barrier between them and their environment and stops them from forming solid memories of anything they consider abnormal. It's kind of like pouring oil on the surface of water. The memory of the magic just slides off." He explained, pouring out the boiling water into the cups.
"And you worked this out alone?" Hermione couldn't hide her astonishment.
"Hermione, I'm not one of your dolt students who's unexpectedly done well on a test." He said, with a frown.
"That's not what I meant, Harry." Don't you understand how difficult what you've achieved is?
He continued: "Well you know how I got into runes a few years ago? I'm using that in combination with some altered memory and muggle repelling charms." He shrugged as if he didn't realise how advanced that kind of magic was. Hermione knew it was sincere and not some attempt at false modesty. "I need to work out exactly how to present the service as a package and how to sell it. I know the market is small at the moment, but imagine the potential?" His eyes were wide and sincere as he began to gesticulate in enthusiasm. "Businesses could suddenly triple their number of clients. Wizards wouldn't have to live in isolated communities! Muggles and wizards could spend time together and not in completely separate worlds!" He trailed off with a glance at Malfoy as if slightly embarrassed at how heartfelt his words had become, and turned back to finish off the tea. Hermione looked at the blond too, but there was no sneer, no sarcastic words ready to spit out at Harry's idealism. What had he said to her at the interview? That muggles were self destructive, ignorant idiots? But instead he was watching Harry with something that seemed like admiration, but surely couldn't be... Harry continued, "There are still a few kinks I need to work out with the spell work maybe with someone who actually know's what they're doing and isn't just self taught..."
"Well Harry, of course I'll look through it if you want me to!" She said as he handed out the tea.
"No, no Herm, you have enough on your plate. I've got someone else who's already agreed to anyway." He glanced back at Malfoy with a strange smile.
"That's me!" the blond announced, slapping his hand on the table. Harry shook his head, looking bemused.
"You?" Hermione spoke before she could stop herself.
"Yes, me. I did runes and arithmancy to NEWT, and that's something I think Potter could use a bit of help with if his terrible efforts at calculations are anything to go by." He said without malice. It was almost like - teasing, if that were possible. What had happened between Harry and Malfoy to make them seem, almost, friendly? Hermione noticed that Malfoy had misunderstood her either on purpose or by accident. She hadn't meant to question Malfoy's academic capabilities, she knew he had always been very clever, but it was his eagerness to help in a project that could potentially bring wizards and muggles closer together that she couldn't work out.
She smiled at Harry, trying to disguise her agitation at the situation and instead to convey how sincerely impressed she was "Well congratulations Harry, that's really, really great."
"Thanks, Herm. What with Al going off to school soon I can't really justify being a stay at home Dad anymore... I really enjoyed having a purpose again that wasn't focussed on the boys this summer what with this and learning guitar for the band." He gave a small shrug. "Anyway, I've still got to present it to the ministry for thorough testing and approval before I can think about putting it on the market. I'm optimistic they'll go for it though. Well, the current government might..." He left unsaid the uncomfortable implications of the WIP winning the next election.
Hermione took a sip of tea and glanced at Malfoy, mind still buzzing with unanswered questions as to what on earth was going on. He was staring out of the window with a serene smile on his face. She followed his gaze and saw Harry's two sons, Teddy Lupin and Scorpius bombing about on brooms.
"Harry! Look! The boys are playing together!" She said, distracted momentarily from the enigma. Harry came to stand beside her and took in the sight with a smile.
"I know, it's great isn't it? I think that's the work of one certain blond wizard out there. Scorpius is a great boy, Malfoy, you must be proud."
"I am, you have no idea. I don't understand how I've got so lucky. He's the best thing to ever happen to me." He said quietly. Hermione looked sharply at Malfoy's profile, taking in the almost wistful look. Harry chuckled.
"We all feel like that, Malfoy, believe me."
"No, it's not the same... Scorp is - He's so good, so caring. Sometimes I wonder why he doesn't just look around him and realise he doesn't need to be here. He can leave and have everything. Instead he sticks with me." He shook his head. "He'll realise that one day. Realise that he's been massively fucking short changed by having me as a dad. I don't deserve him." His voice was matter of fact, but his eyes looked haunted as they stared wide eyed and unfocused into the garden. Hermione glanced at Harry who was gazing at Malfoy with a frown and biting his lip worriedly.
Hermione felt like she was missing something enormous as the mood in the room shifted dramatically. Who on earth was this man? What happened to the arrogance and pride Hermione had encountered the other day? Why was he letting them hear such honest thoughts that left him completely open and vulnerable? These were not the things you tell to two people with so much unpleasant history between them. If this is what Azkaban had done to Malfoy then suddenly she realised she had to re evaluate some of her pervious judgements. Though what is he even doing here in the first place?
"Malfoy - Draco." Harry said, softly. The blond's head snapped around and he smiled strangely.
"My name's got a nice ring to it coming out of your mouth, Potter." Harry snorted and continued speaking.
"You can tell that Scorpius really loves and cares for you. You must be an excellent father." Malfoy grimaced and looked back out of the window.
"I'm nothing compared to you Potter, you can give your boys everything."
"It's not about possessions, Malfoy. God knows, if anything my boys are completely spoilt. Ginny never lets me forget it."
"Maybe, but I haven't even been able to provide anything. I haven't even been there for most of his life. I try now, but sometimes It's so hard... I just - sometimes it feels like it's too much and I just freeze. And that's when I make things worse. Scorp literally has to drag me out of the dark and back into the world. And it's not fair on a child, to have to deal with this. But I can't help it, something's wrong with me." Suddenly his features transformed from their look of self disgust into a serene calm. He smiled, as if remembering something private, his eyes still tracking the boys through the air.
Hermione stood stock still, her brows knitted and bewildered thoughts chasing through her head. What he was so honestly describing did not sound healthy at all. He sounded almost like he could be suffering from depression. She looked at Harry who was staring at Malfoy with a worried frown. He glanced at her, noticing her expression and shook his head slightly before launching what she could recognise was an attempt at distraction.
"Hermione, you should have heard the boys in here earlier!" His cheerful tone was at painful odds with the melancholic atmosphere, but Malfoy didn't seem to notice that anything was strange. His head snapped up and his face lit up once again with a smile. "I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner, but they all raced in here, practically bursting with excitement!"
"You'll never get rid of him Potter! He'll be wanting to come over here every day until the rest of the holidays!"
"He's more than welcome. I do mean that." Harry said, slowly. "Andromeda is always keen to have Teddy taken off her hands for a few hours a day. He's got a lot of energy and she's getting on." Comprehension dawned on Hermione, the image of the faded Black family tree tapestry having been ingrained into her memory through hours and hours of bored inspection during 'cleaning' sprees at Grimmauld Place all those years ago.
"I may take you up on that Potter." He said, sincerely. "I haven't seen him this... childlike, maybe even ever." He turned to Hermione, "You see Granger, us purebloods are all related." He said, the familiar smirk back in place, even if it was at odds with the undercurrent of distaste she could hear in his voice. "Teddy is technically my second cousin. Scorp doesn't have much family, and today was the first time he's even met another witch or wizard his own age. Well, except at your open day, but he wasn't really in the mood for socialising..."
"But does he have any friends? Who does he play with?" She said in surprise. Malfoy's eyes were defiant as he regarded her.
"Muggle children we live near." Hermione didn't have time to verbalise just how she felt at this revelation as they were distracted by a scuffle that seemed to have broken out in the garden. Brooms lay abandoned beside them as James and Albus wrestled each other to the ground. Their shouts and screams jarred through the open window, reaching Harry who looked up from preparing the lamb kebabs.
"Oh for god's sake. What is wrong with those boys?" He threw down the meat back into its packet, washed his hands quickly and strode out the back door to break up the fight.
Suddenly without Harry's presence the kitchen felt awkwardly silent. Hermione studied her tea and desperately tried to remember her carefully rehearsed apology. She felt completely thrown. After the interview she had written Malfoy off as a bigot, but he was still a parent who deserved an apology for her unprofessionalism. Not for him personally, but for Scorpius and their future relationship as teacher and student. But after what she had just heard, and the fact that Harry and him seemed to be getting on as if they were long lost friends... And the care in which Harry had been treating him...To say she was confused was an understatement. The silence stretched and she opened her mouth to speak, to say anything, but Malfoy beat her to it. His voice was unexpectedly close and she jumped slightly. She hadn't heard him slip quietly from his seat, so intently had she been thinking.
"Listen to me Granger." He spoke quickly and loomed over her, pressing her back against the work surface. She was unable to move away, to get any space between them. Bizarrely she felt like a mouse before a cat and her heart rate began to increase exponentially to Malfoy's closeness. He was standing merely inches from her and from her vantage point, and with his face illuminated by the afternoon light streaming through the window behind her, suddenly she could tell how tired he looked. He had deep, permanent looking blue tinged bags under his eyes and a spray of pale stubble across his chin. His eyes were squinting slightly in the sun, and she stared back into them, forcing herself to match the intensity of his gaze. The light was picking up the different shards of colour within them. What appeared simply grey from a distance seemed to consist of a complex fractal structure of splinters of pale and dark blues, green and even a couple of flecks of amber...
"Still scared of me?" He said quietly, his mouth twisting in a smirk. She was thankful for the distraction, and hurriedly looked away from those eyes. She could feel his breath on her face and it smelt surprisingly of peppermint tea. Well actually she found that she wasn't scared at all, and of course she never had been, merely wary. Apparently her teenage instincts had been right, up close he wasn't that threatening at all. In fact, he looked like he needed several good meals and a week long sleep. She straightened up, bridging the considerable gap between their heights by only a couple of centimetres, but adding about a mile to her self confidence.
"No. And I never was." She said, resolutely. He raised his eyebrows.
"You should be." His eyes flicked over her head, no doubt to check on what was going on in the garden. Hermione's resolution to apologise for the interview suddenly died, as did some of her confusion on how to deal with this strange version of Malfoy. She could deal with his attempt at intimidation easily.
"Is that a threat?" She spoke, quietly.
"It can be. It depends on whether or not you're going to let your issues with me affect how you treat my son." This is about his son, again?
"Malfoy, I -"
"Because if I find out you've been picking on him... He's different Granger. Whatever ideas you've got, do not let them mar your judgement. He would have had enough of that at Hogwarts." Hermione swallowed, realising with dismay that Malfoy actually believed that she would bully Scorpius. Is that how she had come across in the interview? Malfoy closed his eyes for a spilt second too long to be a normal blink, as if resting them. His shoulders sagged slightly and he stepped back, giving her a bit of space. Hermione blinked in surprise. Before today, in all the time she'd known him she didn't think she'd even seen him do so much as appear less than one hundred percent composed at all times. His smirk was gone and his next words had lost their threat, as if he'd decided to give up the intimidation. "I thought you'd be different, but clearly I was wrong." He muttered.
"What? What do you mean?"
"I thought, you know, after what you did for me at my trial, that you - well, it doesn't matter. Clearly I was deluded. Shouldn't have expected anything less from someone like you." His eyes narrowed as he spoke the last sentence and Hermione felt her hackles rise. Here they were again, back on familiar territory. Completely unpredictable. Who are you trying to be, Malfoy?
"Someone like me? What, a mudblood?" She responded glibly. Just because he may be acting completely unbalanced she wasn't going to let him get away with any slurs on her blood status this time. Malfoy's face transformed, his lips curling into an ugly sneer.
"Someone like you. Someone with a massive fucking superiority complex and an even bigger chip on their shoulder. A dangerous combination for somebody like my son." Hermione let a gasp escape as she realised the implications of what he said, and how she had misinterpreted his previous comment. "Of course you thought I meant that Granger."
"How can you blame me?" Suddenly, in the shock of his unfair opinion of her she found her voice. "What reason have you given me to think any different, Malfoy? You can't just come back into our lives, 14 years later, expecting us to know what's going on with you? All I know to go off is what you were like at school, and last time I saw you we were in my office and you almost called me a mudblood, in front of your son no less. Why shouldn't I assume that is typical language and an attitude he's been brought up with?" She had clearly struck a nerve, his eyes flickered down to the floor momentarily before coming up to meet hers again.
"I'm sorry. It really isn't." He muttered, almost too softly to catch. "Anger brings out the worst in me." He gave her an awkward half smile. Hermione was thrown. She felt the indignation leave her as suddenly as it had arrived, and she deflated. Malfoy was apologising? What alternate reality had she stumbled in to? She felt as if she had been one step behind during the entire conversation. He looked incredibly vulnerable and she was suddenly struck by just how expressive his face had become. Where was the cold mask of indifference that he'd no doubt been wearing the rest of his life?
"Listen - Malfoy." She said, finally about to say the apology she'd meant to before being distracted by his strange mood swings. But he had reached up and gently pulled out a strand of her hair from behind her ear. His pale, long fingers were mere centimetres from her face and she froze, the words dying abruptly on her lips again. Her eyes widened and she gazed into his, but he was busy examining her hair with all the concentration of a collector studying an antique, holding it up in the light. An uncomfortable tingle went down her neck.
"The sun is making your hair beautiful. It's golden. I never realised before. And fuck, it's so soft." He flicked the end of the strand back and forth between his two longest fingers and frowned, before meeting her gaze again. Something must have alerted him to the fact he was behaving extremely weirdly (perhaps Hermione's comically gaping mouth, or her eyes widened in shock) as he abruptly dropped his arm, took another step back and cleared his throat nervously.
Luckily for Malfoy, the awkwardness only lasted a couple of seconds before Harry burst back into the kitchen. Malfoy turned quickly and returned to his seat and Hermione let out an enormous breath. She raised a hand to tuck the hair back behind her and realised her hands were ever so slightly trembling. She quickly brought them back down to clutch at the granite surface before anyone could see. She bit her lip and glanced at Malfoy who was studiously watching Harry. What the hell just happened?
"Malfoy, I don't know what you've done with that boy, but you need to tell me! If you think you've been raising him badly, then you are very wrong." Harry said, dragging a hand through his famously messy hair, cheerfully not noticing, or if she knew him better, resolutely ignoring the strange atmosphere. He walked back to where he'd been preparing the meat and picked up where he left off. "Mine on the other hand, are totally out of control. I can't ever say the right thing to make them get on. James picks on Al, with Teddy's help, no doubt, and Al is cheeky back to James. They constantly wind each other up. I don't understand why?! This time, over who pulled out of the dive first! They were actually fighting over it." He shook his head, hands roughly shoving chunks of lamb and pepper on to the skewers. "Then, Scorpius, calm as anything, diffuses the situation with only a few words!" Harry shook his head with a rueful smile. "Hermione, you are going to have a real treat with that boy." She smiled weakly in return.
"I told you he's an angel. What's the time? When are the rest of your guests coming?" Malfoy said suddenly.
"Um, it's coming up to six. I think they'll be here soon. What do you want to do?"
"Well... Scorp ls clearly he's having the time of his life and I'm feeling... quite tired." He trailed off, glancing so quickly at the witch she nearly missed it.
"Yes! Okay, why don't I set you up in the spare room, you can sleep the rest of it off and head off later, or tomorrow morning." Harry said, moving to the sink to wash his hands again. Sleep the rest of what off...? Hermione thought.
"Don't push your luck Potter. I know you're enjoying having me here, but don't think I'm extending this visit to a sleepover." He said, laughing.
"Yeah sure Malfoy, in your dreams. Come on, I'll tell Scorp where you are when they're bored of flying." Harry walked to the door and after one last searching look into the garden Malfoy slid off his stool and followed him out, this time not sparing a glance at Hermione.
As the men left the room Hermione sagged, not having realised until that point how tense she had been. Her shoulders ached and she slumped down at the big kitchen table and rested her head on her hands, thoughts churning wildly through her mind. Something was clearly up with Malfoy, and she could tell Harry knew what. She nursed her cold tea, mind running through each confusing conversation, every unexpected expression she'd caught, trying to think what it all meant. And just then, when he touched her hair... Was he drunk? Though he didn't smell like alcohol.
After a while, yet before Harry had returned downstairs, loud noises and voices in the living room alerted Hermione to the arrival of Ginny, her boyfriend Dominic, George Weasley, his wife and ex Gryffindor, Angelina and their two small children Fred and Roxanne. Hermione breathed in steadily and tried to arrange a pleasant expression on her face as she stood to greet them.
The familiar yet abrasively raucous atmosphere the Weasleys forever carried with them erupted into the quiet kitchen. The two children chased around with the energy of of highly wound springs. To Hermione's relief they soon bombed out of the back door to find their older cousins. Hermione said hello to the adults, the typical words of greeting tripping dutifully off her tongue though her mind was upstairs with the two men.
"Hey, you alright sweetheart?" Ginny was saying to her. Hermione blinked and tried to pull herself together, nodding.
"Hey look! It's that boy! The one I saw earlier!" George was exclaiming loudly, pointing out the window to Angelina.
"God, you're right. He's the spitting image of Malfoy..." Angelina said slowly. She turned frowning to Hermione. "It isn't his son. Is it?" The room went silent as they all looked between the boy who was greeting the two youngest Weasleys on the lawn and Hermione who was nervously looking at the door for Harry's return. When he still didn't appear and the silence had stretched slightly too long she admitted that yes, actually, it was.
George let out a long whistle. "Wow, isn't he a chip off the old block. Um, I kind of feel like I'm missing something though. What is junior Malfoy doing here?" Hermione thought fast.
"Well, I wasn't there, but apparently Harry bumped into them earlier in Diagon Alley and - he thought it would be nice for Scorpius to meet his cousin." She lied. "I met him a couple of weeks ago at his interview for Burbage and he seemed like a nice boy, so I told Harry and he must have agreed..." She trailed off, looking anxiously at the surrounding puzzled faces.
"So, is Malfoy here?" It was Ginny who spoke, a look of absolute disbelief on her face. Hermione quailed slightly under the combined gazes of everyone on the room.
"Where is he?" George said quietly.
"Um, they're upstairs. I'm sure Harry will be down soon." It was clearly an unwelcome statement. Ginny's eyes widened dramatically and she glanced at Dominic.
"Why am I not surprised by that?" Dominic boomed imperiously and Hermione span to face him.
"What do you mean by that?" She said, quietly. Ginny's eyes whipped between them.
"Well you know how Harry always was with Malfoy at school, Herm, I've told Dom. I always thought that maybe, you know, he harboured secret feelings for him." She said, falteringly.
"What?" Hermione said, in complete shock. Were they both standing in Harry's kitchen, really insinuating what she thought they were? She looked at Ginny in utter disbelief. "They hated each other at school! What are you talking about?!"
"Well, what else is going on up there?" She said, looking sheepish.
"Absolutely unacceptable behaviour." Dominic was saying to George. "When he is meant to looking after our children. Leaving them unsupervised with the son of a Death Eater! He's probably completely rotten, as far as we know." Hermione swelled with rage as she turned to him.
"Harry is upstairs because he is sorting out the spare room for Malfoy who needed to rest. He is unwell. Something is wrong with him." She said shortly. "As for what you are accusing Harry of, I think you should be absolutely ashamed of yourselves." She glared at Ginny who had the grace to look abashed. She didn't really care about Dom's opinions but Hermione was horrified to see that they were rubbing off on her usually open minded friend. "I just can't believe you'd immediately jump to those conclusions! And unless you hadn't noticed, Dominic, the kids are not unsupervised, I am here. Ginny, you should know what Harry was actually like at school - always going out of his way to help everyone. He hasn't changed. Malfoy - well he seems to have changed quite a bit." She glared the older man, realising for the first time that her instinctive dislike of him may actually be based on something very real, and not just the typical protectiveness of a close friend. He looked back, impassively.
"Hey Hermione, chill out, that's not what we meant." George was by her side, rubbing her arm and trying to diffuse the mood. He glanced at his sister. "Right Gin?"
"Of course, I'm sorry Hermione." She said. Hermione let in and out an enormous steadying breath. It had not been lost on her that Ginny's boyfriend had not agreed. "It's just you know, this is Malfoy. It's very confusing." For you and me both. Hermione thought.
Harry eventually returned downstairs with plenty of words of apology to make up for missing their arrival and delaying the start of the barbecue, but he remained tight lipped over questions about Malfoy. He took in Hermione's shaken appearance and mistaking it for the after affects of meeting Malfoy reassured her again that he'd explain everything later.
The evening progressed smoothly and Hermione calmed down enough to begin to enjoy herself, though her mind kept straying to Harry's spare bedroom and its mysterious occupant. The playful shouts and screams of the kids, the chink of wine glasses and the scrumptious smell of barbecued meat filled the warm summer air. Hermione saw first hand why Scorpius had gained such a fan in Harry. He was nothing like the surly boy she had met before and instead was incredibly charismatic and had the other children hanging on his every word and rolling around in laughter on the grass. James and Al were getting on better than they had in a long time and the mood of the group of children was innocently joyful. He was equally charming to the adults and by the time they were clearing up Ginny whispered to her that whatever faults Malfoy had, his child raising clearly wasn't one of them.
Finally, hours later, when the rest of the adults were still in the garden finishing off the wine by candle light, and the kids were gathered around a DVD in the living room, Hermione managed to get Harry on his own in the kitchen.
"Spill, Harry, tell me what's going on." Harry turned around from where he was stacking the dishwasher and looked at her solemnly.
"Are we definitely alone?" He said. Hermione moved to the window, looking into the garden, taking in the shadowed, flickering forms of the adults. She pulled the blind shut and then moved to shut the door to the living room, stifling the noise of the TV. She nodded. "Ok, I'm really worried about him, Hermione." She took a seat at the island unit; the same as Malfoy had sat in earlier, and rolled her wine glass between her hands, the pale liquid sloshing around inside.
"He wasn't acting like this when I interviewed him Harry. He seems, I don't know, very unstable." She said, thinking about the moment by the sink. Harry regarded her levelly.
"Ok, this does not leave this kitchen. I'm going to tell you something that I suspect but I couldn't get Malfoy to admit." He paused and took a deep breath. "I think Malfoy was on something. Drugs." What? Hermione gaped at him. Malfoy? on muggle drugs? Has Harry gone insane? "Look, I know it sounds ridiculous, but you didn't see him earlier Herm. He ran and hugged me in the street! In public! I hadn't seen him in twelve years and we didn't exactly part on friendly terms! He was completely... Just not himself. He told me he'd always wanted to be friends with me. This is Malfoy! That is why I brought him home. God knows what situation they could have got themselves into. They're so lucky they bumped into me." Hermione just shook her head, unable to comprehend what Harry was saying. "I tried to talk to Scorpius about it, but he just fed me this line about Malfoy having overdosed on calming potion." He snorted and shook his head. "A: as if Malfoy would ever get the dosage wrong on a potion and B: that it would ever produce effects like that..."
"It might? People's magic and brain react differently to large doses of potions that affect the mind." Hermione said, latching on to this far more realistic diagnosis. Harry shook his head.
"No Hermione. I can recognise the effects, and he was definitely on something." He grimaced.
"Harry, this is Draco Malfoy. Do you honestly believe he would do something like take muggle drugs? It is far more likely Scorpius told you the truth. Anyway, surely he knows the dangers? What exposure eventually does to wizards?" Harry shrugged, he clearly was not going to agree.
"Maybe he doesn't! He was in Azkaban during that whole controversy. Fine, don't believe me. Anyway, more serious is the reason why he either feels the need to take... the calming draught or drugs or whatever. You heard talking him earlier. It only got worse when I took him upstairs. I think he's really suffering, with depression or something." He trailed off, looking miserable. There was silence while they both contemplated this.
"I'm not surprised, everything he's been through. Do you think he'd see a therapist?" She said, almost for the sake of it. Harry snorted, confirming her more pessimistic, unspoken thoughts.
"Malfoy? Go to counselling? The only reason we were privy to any of that was no doubt due to complete loss of his inhibitions due to whatever he had taken. Can you really expect someone with that level of pride to see a therapist? Anyway, would one even see him? I bet you he'd find it difficult to get one at St Mungos as an ex Death Eater, which only leaves muggle options. He might not have the same old beliefs as he used to, but even that is a stretch to imagine. We're probably the only people he's spoken honestly to in a very long time."
Hermione lapsed into silence again as she thought about Harry's words. She could see where this was going. Harry's brilliantly admirable, yet maddening saving people complex was kicking in full force. Reluctantly she gave him a smile.
"I know what you want to do, Harry." She took a deep breath, "You want to get him over here, get him to help you with your warding, befriend him, try and talk to him...You have to be careful though. This is still Malfoy. He may not be capable of murder, but he is still is a wizard capable of inflicting torture and pain... I don't think you should take his behaviour today as a standard measure. He had barely changed from his old self at the interview. Why do you think he'll even accept your help?" Harry bit his lip worriedly, before answering earnestly.
"But we do know he's changed for the better! He's sending Scorpius to Burbage! Isn't that proof enough? Anyway, aren't we all capable of inflicting pain or Unforgivables in the moment or if we felt they were necessary..? Please Hermione, I need your help. You can get in there. Something is going on with that family. Malfoy is struggling." He paused and spoke slowly, "I've been there. I might not know exactly what he's going through, but I've got a pretty good idea." She gazed into his wide, sincere eyes and felt her resolve to remain professionally distant crumbling. Probably she was pretty tipsy. And perhaps it wasn't all due to Harry's excellent skills at emotional manipulation. She did have a promising student to look out for, and of course deep down, her own completely un-professional curiosity about his father.
"Fine." His face broke into a smile and he rushed to lean opposite her on the table, putting her glass to the side and taking her hands in his.
"Hermione Granger you are my most favourite person in the whole world. He really needs us, and I feel like.. Well it's strange but I feel like I owe him. Remember, I nearly killed him once."
"And you've saved his life." She shot back.
"And he sort of saved our lives too." Hermione knew exactly to when he was refering but she wasn't going to let him have that one easily.
"You mean, his reluctance to immediately confirm our identities to Bellatrix and his parents in Malfoy Manor may have contributed indirectly to us escaping?"
He shrugged, looking sheepish. "Well, it's not even about owing anything, I just can't with a good conscience let them go off back to whatever hell they're living in without at least trying to help in some way." Hermione suddenly thought about what Ginny had said earlier, about her suspicions of Harry's feelings towards the blond. She dismissed that thought immediately, feeling petty and unsettled.
"Well, we have one concrete reason; the wellbeing of my new student. I don't know whether you're right, and he was on drugs or not, but something is wrong. He's obviously devoted to Scorp and is extremely protective, but that isn't always enough, particularly if what he was saying earlier is true..."
Suddenly Dominic was walking through the open kitchen door, a tray of empty beer bottles in his hands. Harry and Hermione broke apart and she saw him shoot a strange look in their direction before booming something about glasses that needed to be refilled. Harry busied himself choosing a wine bottle from the rack and missed the odd look Dominic gave his turned back. Hermione frowned. How long had Dominic been standing outside... Had he heard anything? He said something that was meant to be funny but Hermione didn't even waste a smile on him. He left the room with the new bottle and Hermione shot Harry a worried look. He shrugged and said that they better get better outside. Hermione followed him out, a horrible feeling of foreboding sobering her up. Had the wine made them louder than they'd thought and Dominic had overhead? Or was the suspicious look he had given them because they were holding hands and that didn't make sense in his narrow minded world?
Maybe it was the anticipation of further exposure to Draco Malfoy making her feel like this. What were they getting themselves into? Yes, he clearly needed help, but were they wise to get involved with someone like him with everything they had to risk? Hermione hoped against hope Harry's instincts were correct and this wasn't going come back to bite them. Hermione knew that what he saw in Malfoy was a genuine cry for help, but also recognised in herself that her loyalty was always to Harry, their family, and her school. If any facet of her world was endangered by their involvement in the unstable Slytherin, then she knew without a doubt she could easily slam shut any friendship they had cultivated, hopefully without damaging what she wanted to achieve with his son. You didn't get to where she was at 32 by being soft.