Draco stared as Hermione stalked into the master suites. He couldn't get over the difference in her appearance. She was wearing well-cut robes of dark blue velvet, which he recognised were part of the trousseau her father had arranged for, but over them she had on a black cloak of extremely fine silk. Her hair fell almost to her waist in smooth waves and it looked more honey-coloured than her usual brunette. He watched as she busied herself with arranging her new robes in their wardrobe.
"You look different," he finally said.
"Oh, that, yes I didn't want to be hounded by people for being at work while I'm meant to be off," said Hermione by way of explanation as she waved her wand and her hair sprung back up in all their spiral glory.
"What did you have to do at the Ministry? You missed dinner," Draco said, as he surveyed his wife. She had an odd, almost distant expression in her eyes. Was she upset with him over their almost kiss?
"Just had to find out about some things," she answered ambiguously as she stacked all the boxes against the wall with another wave of her wand.
Draco fell silent. He had no idea what to say to her. They were nowhere at the stage of their relationship where he could openly bring up the topic of their kiss. He felt a strange frustration at the way his wife had walled herself up against him. This was something Draco Malfoy wasn't used to. His good looks and charm had always smoothed things with women when his money and connections failed. He had never seen a woman shut him out that way.
"What made you pick Juls' name?" asked Hermione suddenly, her back still facing him as she arranged glass bottles of multicoloured potions on their dresser.
"Pardon?" sputtered Draco.
"Juls' name, what made you pick it?" Hermione repeated slowly, as though he was an imbecile. Draco bristled.
"It's customary to name a son in the same theme as someone else in the family. And as Julius Caesar's grandfather was called Lucius, we thought it was fitting," he answered almost defiantly.
"Ah, so he was named after Aurelia's son," said Hermione casually. She heard Draco sputter again behind her.
"Who told you that name?" Draco demanded, his silver eyes flashing.
"I'm just confirming that it was Julius Caesar that Juls was named after. You did know that Caesar's mother was called Aurelia, didn't you?" Hermione said calmly.
Draco swallowed. "Yes, yes I did."
"Then why did you react that way?" asked Hermione simply, turning to face him for the first time.
"I- Just- It was nothing. You just surprised me with your grasp of historical names that's all," mumbled Draco, avoiding Hermione's challenging gaze.
"Right," said Hermione disbelievingly, as she turned away from him again.
"What's the matter with you?" snarled Draco, as he walked over to his wife and grabbed her arm, forcing her to face him.
"What's the matter with me?" Hermione echoed in angry disbelief as she tried to free her arm from her husband's grip. "How can you expect me to be around every time you want a snog, but to not expect anything from you in return? How can you expect me to open up to you? To trust you, when you don't trust me?"
"Merlin Granger, where is this coming from?" asked Draco, loosening his grip on her arm but not letting go. "It's not like I tried to rape you in your sleep. You were a willing party to every kiss."
"You were the one that had me pushed up against the wall!" she retorted, as she tried to push Draco away.
"What the hell is going on here?"
The newlyweds turned their heads to the door and broke apart hastily. Blaise, Harry and Ron were standing in the doorway to their bedroom.
"What are you three doing here?" scowled Draco as he ran his hands through his hair. Next to him, Hermione looked equally frazzled.
"We came to discuss some things with you two. Narcissa told us that you were up here. We knocked but there was no response, so we just came in," said Harry, as he crossed his arms across his chest and glared at Draco.
"Oh. Sorry," said Hermione meekly, as she waved their guests into the room. "How long were you three standing there?"
"Just long enough to hear something about your sexual activities," winked Blaise. "So, Draco had you pushed up against a wall huh?"
"Let's not get into that right now," said Hermione quickly, noticing the expressions on Harry and Ron's faces. "Do you guys have any more news for us regarding the person that sent us the wine?"
"Well, we had St. Mungo's analyse the dregs of the wine that Narcissa drank," Harry said as he slowly sat down on an armchair and indicated to Ron to do the same. "Turns out it was a particularly strong brand of de-aging potion that would've de-aged her out of existence if she had consumed an entire glass."
"You think someone's after my mother?" asked Draco, who was still standing, his face a thundercloud.
"At this stage we don't know anything," confessed Blaise, as he gave Draco a gruff clap on the shoulder. "We tried to analyse the handwriting on the note, but it was written with a simple calligraphy charm that is virtually untraceable. We even looked into the type of parchment but it was the regular stuff you can get at Flourish and Blotts. The parchment had no traces of any personal magic. The rose was completely ordinary and has already shriveled away."
"Wait a second," said Hermione slowly, as a realisation dawned on her and filled her with a mounting horror. "The letter was in an envelope addressed to Mrs Malfoy. It could've been for me."
"Bloody hell," Ron swore, speaking for the first time since he had arrived. "Why didn't you tell us this sooner?"
"I forgot," admitted Hermione honestly. "I don't know where the envelope went to. Narcissa was the one that opened it. We gave you everything that was on the dining table."
"He obviously purchased a disappearing one," said Draco, his face still taut with anxiety.
"A disappearing envelope?" asked Harry in confusion.
"Honestly Potter, it's like you're still living in the muggle world," Draco said exasperatedly. "In the magical world, you can purchase disappearing envelopes that helpfully vanish after the recipient has opened them. They're a lot more convenient to receive mail in since they don't require of a disposal by the recipient."
"Well in that case we have another piece of information about the Arisen One," said Ron, as he took quick notes about the new developments. "This is someone that has it in for Hermione and Malfoy both. Not just Malfoy, as we previously assumed. Obviously he picked Hermione to curse for more reasons than to make Malfoy miserable."
"If the wine could've been for you, why weren't you also out there wreaking havoc?" questioned Harry.
"Because Malfoy decided to be a prat about the gift and deliberately knocked over my glass before I could drink any," Hermione said, as she glared at her husband.
"Aw were you jealous Drakie-poo?" mocked Blaise in a very accurate impression of Pansy. Despite her anger, Hermione giggled.
"I wasn't jealous, I just didn't trust the low down despicable person that sent my mother or my wife something," Draco scowled. "And might I remind you, my knocking over mother's glass before she finished it probably saved her life."
Hermione shivered at the thought. Despite everything that Narcissa used to stand for, she had grown impeccably fond of her mother-in-law. The thought that it was just incredibly good luck that had saved her life was a sobering one. She found herself looking at Draco, who was clearly thinking the same thing. Without realising what she was doing, she crossed over the room to where he was standing by the French windows and put a palm on his cheek.
"It will be fine. Narcissa's okay. Nothing happened to her," Hermione reassured him. She felt his jaw twitch under her fingers.
"This time," said Draco morosely.
"And who is to say we won't be there to save her from it next time?" asked Hermione reasonably.
"Thank you," Draco said softly a few seconds later, giving her a small smile. His placed his hand over hers and slowly stroked it in gratitude.
"Ahem," coughed Blaise loudly, as the couple broke apart hastily for the second time that evening. "If you are done feeling each other up, shall we modify the list to meet the new criteria?"
By the time Harry, Ron and Blaise left, it was nearing midnight. Hermione and Draco felt equally drained and glum as they mentally recounted all the remaining possibilities. It was unpleasant, to say the least, to see all the people that might want them dead written down on an innocuous piece of parchment. By mutual -albeit unspoken- agreement, they didn't continue their argument from earlier on. Hermione was so exhausted she just wanted to change into her pajamas and sleep. She sat down on the ornate stool in front of the dresser mirror and brushed through her hair while Draco changed into his pajamas in their bathroom.
"All yours," said Draco as he entered the bedroom and all but threw himself onto the bed.
"Thanks," Hermione said, putting down the hairbrush. She realised with a groan that she had forgotten to unpack and put away her new sleepwear. Her trusty old nightgown would have to do. She walked over to her half of the cupboard and pulled open the drawer that housed her pajamas. To her surprise, it was empty. She groaned again.
"What's wrong?" Draco asked, sitting up slowly on the bed.
"My clothes are missing!" she exclaimed agitatedly.
"Oh yes, mother had an elf move them to make room for your new clothes," said Draco laying back down. Women and all their fuss about clothes.
"Great," muttered Hermione as she picked up the shiny boxes that contained her new sleepwear. She opened the first of three boxes and her eyes widened in horror at the clothes inside it. She opened the remaining boxes and to her horror, they all housed equally racy pieces. She gingerly picked one up and immediately put it back inside the box, her cheeks flaming at the scrap of silk and lace in front of her.
"What's wrong?" asked Draco immediately, noticing that Hermione was staring at the boxes in front of her as though they housed snakes. "Is there something dangerous in there?"
Yes. You have no idea just how dangerous.
"Not dangerous per se," she voiced shakily. "Just, err, I think I may just sleep in my robes."
"What? Why? What's wrong with- Oh," Draco broke off and smirked as he realised what was bothering his wife. "I can't believe this. The great Granger, who was a third of the Golden Trio and was ready to take on the Dark Lord himself, is afraid of a little bit of lingerie?"
"You got little correct alright," mumbled Hermione, her cheeks flushing scarlet. "I don't suppose you know where my old clothes would be?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Didn't I mention earlier Granger? I spent all day stalking your clothes just so I would know exactly where they were in the off-chance that you might ask me. If you're so bothered, wake the elves. Do I look like I know where that frayed bit of cotton you call a nightdress is?"
"I'm not going to wake the elves!" said Hermione indignantly. "They have rights too, you know."
"I'm sure they do, and as thoughtful as it is of you to try help me fall asleep, perhaps a lack of talking would be more effective?" drawled Draco, as he stretched out comfortably on their bed.
"You can be such a prat sometimes," Hermione retorted, as she bit her lip. "I don't think I can wear these ridiculous clothes."
"Well unless you plan on destroying your robes by sleeping in them, I suggest you put them on. I'll even close my eyes," Draco winked.
"Fine," grumbled Hermione as she gathered the most modest of the nightgowns and made her way to the bathroom. "I'm holding you to that."
Draco grinned. This will be interesting…
Five minutes later Hermione emerged from the bathroom, blushing more deeply than she could ever remember before. She was wearing an ivory coloured lace negligee that was almost see-through. If that in itself wasn't bad enough, it had a neckline that dipped dangerously low and the hem stopped daringly at mid-thigh. She couldn't remember ever feeling this exposed before and wished she'd remembered to put out the fire before she had gone to get changed. Contrary to his statement, Draco was lying in bed bare-chested, his arms behind his head, looking at her unashamedly.
"Nice," he whistled appreciatively and winked again.
"Jerk," Hermione muttered as she quickly crossed over to her side of the bed and threw the covers over her body. Next to her, she could feel Draco's body shake with silent laughter.
The rest of their week off passed quickly in a blur of activity. Hermione found herself almost relieved as she strode to her office for the first time in nearly a month. The sexual tension between her and her husband had peaked to an almost unbearable level. It didn't help that Narcissa point blank refused to let Hermione keep her old nightclothes and said that the Malfoy brides always got their sleepwear from Twilfit and Tattings. Unwilling to butt heads with her mother-in-law, Hermione had snuck off to see if they housed any more modest styles but had come up sorely disappointed. On Ginny's advice she dropped the issue and decided that picking her battles would be wiser. It was almost disconcerting to see just how far Narcissa's scheming powers could stretch.
The muffled sounds of someone arguing caught Hermione's attention as she slowed her footsteps and tried to locate the sound. It was coming from one of the rarely used conference rooms. Hermione looked around surreptitiously and pressed her ear to the door. She could just barely hear what was being said.
"Don't think I haven't noticed how odd it is," an unrecognisable voice was saying.
"Your threats won't work with me, go find someone else to terrorise," a second voice yelled back. Hermione guessed the person was female.
"I would watch my back if I were you," said the first, and Hermione heard the sound of a chair scraping. Quickly, she flattened herself behind a hefty filing cabinet, with only a second to spare before the door was thrown open. To her shock, she recognised the surly brown-swathed figure of Valmont striding out. She walked into the conference room, and to her bigger shock, Vanessa was sitting there, shaking with fear.
"Vanessa! What happened in here? I heard arguing," exclaimed Hermione as she put an arm around the trembling witch.
"What did you hear?" Vanessa asked, her eyes widening in fear.
"Nothing really," Hermione answered, pouring water into a glass for her friend. "I just heard muffled voices for the most part and towards the end, Valmont telling you to watch your back. Then I saw him slam the door and stalk off. Are you okay?"
Vanessa drew a shaky breath. Her shoulders seemed to relax slightly as she sipped the water Hermione had pushed into her wobbly hands. "Never mind, Hermione. He's just such a nasty man, but I don't really want to talk about it right now if that's alright."
"Sure," answered Hermione, biting her lip with unease. "You aren't in any… trouble, are you?"
"No, no, don't worry yourself," Vanessa said miserably, squeezing Hermione's hand in gratitude. "I can handle it just fine, really."
"Well, if you ever feel like you can't, come straight to me, okay?" Hermione said, uneasily.
Vanessa nodded. "Don't worry Hermione, that just looked a lot worse than it was. Everything will be fine."
Hermione gave in and with another hug, left for her office. Her mind was running over what she had just inadvertently witnessed. Despite what the Slytherins had told her, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something off about Valmont. And to scream at poor shy Vanessa? That alone was worth investigating. Biting her lower lip, she arrived at a decision. She unlocked her office, and without stopping to look at the pile of paperwork that had decided to inhabit her desk, she threw a glittering fistful of Floo powder into the fire and called for Harry or Ron.
"Hermione! What is it?" Harry's head was sitting in her fireplace.
"Can you and Ron come through? I need to talk to you both for a few minutes," said Hermione softly, as she cast a Muffliato around them.
"Sure, is everything alright?"
"I'll explain when you guys are in here," Hermione answered, moving away from the hearthrug to allow Harry and Ron to pass through into her office. She waved them to sit by her chairs and offered them a cup of tea.
"So what's going on?" Ron asked, through a mouthful of chocolate biscuit.
"I need you both to do me a favour, but you cannot let Malfoy or Blaise know, alright?" Hermione asked, as she busied herself with the kettle, not meeting either of their eyes.
Harry and Ron exchanged a look of confusion, but agreed.
"Well, both Blaise and Malfoy are completely against this possibility, but you both remember how Valmont was in charge of our security right?" Hermione started. Harry and Ron nodded, and motioned for her to continue. "Well, I can't help but be a bit suspicious of him. He lost several family members in the war and he would definitely have the motive to want to hurt me and Malfoy."
"You think that he was responsible for the breach?" asked Harry interestedly.
"It's possible. It wouldn't exactly have been hard for him to breach something he himself organised," Hermione said, as she pushed two cups of tea towards her friends.
"Bloody hell Hermione, do you have any proof?" Ron asked as he took notes.
"No," Hermione admitted. "But I did just overhear him arguing with Vanessa. From the little I heard, he sounded like he was threatening her."
Harry whistled. "That does sound pretty suspicious. Did you ask Vanessa what it was about?"
"I did," Hermione nodded ruefully. "But she wouldn't say. She said she was handling it herself."
"Blimey," Ron said as he rubbed his neck.
"We'll keep an eye on it," promised Harry as he took a refreshing sip of his tea. "I can see why you don't want Malfoy or Zabini to know. We'll do our best to keep our investigation off the books, but we can't keep it up for long. And technically it is illegal for me not to inform Blaise or our head about it so I can't make many promises. But we will try."
"Thanks," Hermione said gratefully.
Harry and Ron left after another pleasant half hour of catching up. Hermione felt the familiar feeling of happiness as she threw herself into her work. She had always found research and writing to be very soothing. By the end of the day, she had managed to sort through the entire month's unfinished work. Her desk was once again organised into neat piles of paperwork. With a flick of her wand she set the cups from her numerous tea-breaks to wash themselves in the sink. The flames of the fireplace went emerald, and Hermione looked to them in surprise. She wasn't expecting visitors. To her astonishment, Draco and Julius stepped out of the fire, and brushed ash off themselves.
"Hello you two," Hermione said affectionately as she gave Julius a hug. "What brings you here?"
"Juls made a drawing for your office," Draco explained, as he surveyed his son with pride. "I figured that you would be almost done slaving away and that we could take you out to dinner."
"Sounds great," said Hermione enthusiastically as she surveyed Julius' handiwork. He had painstakingly drawn two slanting sticks with a third smaller stick between them. One of the sticks had a circle on top of it with a mass of brown scribbles, while the other stick had a significantly larger circle drawn over it with yellow lines protruding downwards. The little stick in the center had the smallest of circles and a bunch of ochre scribbles around it like a halo. The stick family all wore crooked smiles and black dots for eyes.
"It's you and daddy! See!" Julius jumped on the spot excitedly as he explained his art. "And there's me! Do you see?"
"I do see, now where shall we put this fine work?" Hermione asked seriously, tapping a finger against her nose. "How about up there on the wall?"
"Yay! Do you like it Mummy? Do you? Do you?" Julius was running around Hermione in delighted circles as she carefully pinned the drawing onto the wall behind her desk.
"I love it honey, thank you for making it for me," said Hermione, sincerely touched at the gesture. She looked back and found Draco surveying her with an unknown emotion in his eyes. She felt herself shiver at the intensity with which he was looking at her. The spell was broken by Julius who demanded to know where they were going for dinner.
After giving in to Julius' demands for pasta, the Malfoys Disapparated to Diagon Alley. Draco ushered them into a trendy new Wizarding restaurant where they were quickly shown to a table next to a fish tank which had Julius completely enthralled. Hermione was slightly impressed at how much efficiency the Malfoy money could buy. She could see a small queue of hungry patrons that were still waiting to be seated. The Malfoys perused through their menus and ordered while Julius chatted avidly about his day and squealed whenever a fish came near him, much to Draco's chagrin. After only ten minutes wait, the waiter delivered the steaming trays of food to their table.
"Now Juls, you have to eat your vegetables," Hermione lectured as she watched her stepson leave pieces of broccoli untouched.
"Why? Daddy doesn't," Julius asked, as he pointed to the neat little mountain of mushrooms that Draco had picked out of his food.
Draco stiffened as Hermione's disapproving glare landed on him. "I just really don't like mushrooms."
"So? I don't like tomatoes but I eat them anyways," Hermione replied, and speared a small tomato just to prove the point. She grimaced slightly as she swallowed it down.
"Yucky is it?" Draco grinned, as he winked at Julius.
Hermione laughed. "Fine, they're yucky. My point is that I ate them anyways."
"You're a freak, who doesn't like tomatoes? They're practically my favourite vegetable," said Draco as he added another mushroom to the growing pile.
"Well you're just as freaky, because I happen to love mushrooms," retorted Hermione primly.
To her surprise, Draco took a spoonful of his mushrooms and heaped them onto her pasta. "There, you can always eat my mushrooms then."
"Err thanks," muttered Hermione, feeling herself colour. This is ridiculous, he is practically using me as a garbage disposal and here I am blushing because it feels intimate to share food like this. I really am a freak.
"You know," Draco drawled as he surveyed her cheeks intently. "It's considered polite to share your food in return."
Hermione's cheeks were definitely flaming as she speared the baby tomatoes and dropped them into Draco's bowl one by one.
"So does this mean one of you will eat my vegetables?" Julius wanted to know, as he watched the scene in front of him.
"Unfortunately not little man," Draco ruffled his son's hair affectionately. "I'm afraid you're going to have to find a pretty lady of your own to eat your broccoli for you."
Hermione coloured deeper at the words 'pretty lady' and gave up on any hope of her cheeks being their normal colour once Draco gave her a lazy grin and winked at her after his statement to his son. Julius on the other hand pouted, unable to understand why one of his parents couldn't just eat his vegetables for him and why his daddy kept making his new mummy go red in the cheeks.
A few nights later Hermione awoke with a start. She felt her body stiffen as she realised that the only way she would've woken up in the middle of the night was if there was a noise of some sort. She subtly turned her head and observed that Draco was still soundly asleep. A slight movement to her right caught her eye and she realised for the first time that the fireplace was an emerald green and a soot-covered figure was frantically scrambling out of the grate. Without stopping to think, Hermione threw back the covers and grabbed her wand from the bedside table. Taking advantage of the intruder's confusion, she aimed squarely at his face and shouted the first hex that came to her mind. "Petrificus Totalus!"
"What the-?" Draco was awake in a trice, looking around the room anxiously, as the intruder landed face-forward on a priceless Arabian rug. Hermione was glaring at the frozen body as she pulled her silken robe securely across her shapely curves.
"Intruder!" said Hermione, as she walked over to the petrified body and turned him over to face her. "Oh Merlin."
"What? Who is it?" Draco was next to her before she was even aware of him having left the bed. He looked down at the body, shock spreading over his features as he registered the figure laying in front of him helplessly. "Goyle?"
"I need to go Floo Harry and Ron," said Hermione as she tried to stride out of the room. To her surprise, Draco grabbed her arm and took her wand. He quickly muttered the counter-curse and Goyle sat up, looking at Hermione accusingly.
"What in the name of Merlin are you doing?" Hermione demanded.
"Goyle is my friend, he is welcome to come and go from my bedroom as he pleases," said Draco stiffly, affronted at being spoken to that way by his wife in front of a friend. Goyle shook his head in disgust as he dusted himself off onto the rug and stood up to clasp Draco warmly on the back. He pointedly ignored a bewildered Hermione.
"Some welcome mate," he grumbled as he ran a hand over his neck.
"Sorry about that, I'll be sure to let Granger know not to react this way again," Draco apologised, as he drew Goyle to one of their armchairs. "What brings you here? Is everything okay with Daphne and Sofia?"
"As a matter of fact no," said Goyle as he drank deeply from the flagon of mead Draco had set in front of him. "They've found us again. I've left Daph and Sofia with Daph's sister but it's not going to help for very much longer. I don't know what to do or where to go next."
"Can't you get some sort of protection?" asked Draco, his features twisting momentarily in pain.
"Who would protect us?" Goyle laughed gruffly without mirth. "The ruddy Ministry? Last I heard it was filled with them bloody Gryffindors- oh sorry Granger."
"No problem," Hermione muttered softly. The years had made Goyle look significantly older than he was. He looked like he was at least thirty, and not twenty as she hazarded him to be. Though she was unsurprised that he was in trouble, somehow Crabbe and Goyle had always managed to get themselves into sticky situations. She watched as Draco stalked over to his desk and pulled out a key from the dresser drawer.
"Here mate," he said, handing Goyle the bejewelled key. "It's to our villa in Italy. Stay as long as you like. It's unplottable and should throw them off your scent for a few weeks. How long do you have?"
"Not long," said Goyle morosely, though his eyes seemed to almost moisten over. "Thanks, I won't forget this. Neither of us will. I don't know what we would've done if you weren't helping us."
"Don't mention it," Draco said firmly, as he walked over to the bedside table and pulled out a small leather pouch filled with coins and tried to press it into Goyle's unwilling hands. "Take this you fool. It should tide you over for a few months, and if you run out there's more where this came from. Just take good care of Daphne and my goddaughter okay?"
Goyle gruffly hugged Draco, much to Hermione's surprise. She noticed that Draco returned the affection with a few awkward pats of the back, and suppressed a smile. Goyle nodded to her in goodbye, and just as suddenly as he had come, he was gone. Draco sighed and handed Hermione's wand back to her in silence as he slipped back under the covers.
"What was that about?" asked Hermione, when she realised that no explanation was forthcoming.
Draco sighed and turned to face her. "Goyle married Daphne Greengrass right after the war-"
"Goyle got married?" Hermione interjected.
"We all had the same reaction when he told us he was getting married," Draco laughed as he threw the blankets back over himself and Hermione. "But there weren't that many purebloods left after the war and there was a lot of parental pressure involved I'm sure. Regardless, Daphne and Goyle got married and they had a daughter a year later. Unfortunately Sofia, my goddaughter, is a squib. I don't know how much you know about the ancient pureblood families, but squibs are generally considered humiliating and are erased from the family trees. Daphne's parents keep trying to track her and Goyle down so that they can send Sofia away, probably to a muggle orphanage as is generally the case."
"That's awful!" exclaimed Hermione.
Draco nodded. "Goyle and Daphne have been on the run ever since they realised she was a squib. Their families have cut them off from their inheritances, and they can't get proper jobs or stay in one place too long. They tried to have some semblance of a regular life with Polyjuice but it's too expensive to keep up, and they can't get any well-paying jobs without revealing who they are and their qualifications. So they're forced to run and hide."
Hermione fell silent. She had never realised that the Slytherins had such tragedy in their lives. It sure wasn't easy to be a pureblood. "So that's why they weren't at the wedding."
"Yeah. I'm sure they're ruing the day the test for squibs got perfected. Previously they could've waited for a few years until their child showed magic, but now a spell and a potion reveals everything," said Draco bitterly.
"I never thought of Goyle as the protective type, but I guess growing up changes people. Didn't the war affect your friendship with Goyle? I seem to remember Harry saying that you all weren't as close anymore back in sixth year, and the discord between you, Crabbe and Goyle was obvious when we were in the Room of Requirement," asked Hermione cautiously.
"It took a long time to repair our friendship," Draco admitted, exhaling. "Crabbe's death was hard on us both, and it was only after Hogwarts that I would say Goyle and I became true friends. I never really treated him or Crabbe as equals before. It took a long time to get him to trust me again, but in the end there are so few of us left and we all need to look out for each other. For people like you, Potter and Weasley, just being on the right side during the war guarantees that you won't face half of the problems we do. Pansy, Blaise and I are hated almost universally. The Gryffindors hate us, the Slytherins won't even let us wipe the grime off their boots and the other houses never trusted us to begin with and no matter what we did in the end, they never forgave us. For people like Goyle, the only help he will get is through his friends. He can't go to the Ministry or anything like that. At least Blaise and I were fortunate enough to get some sort of protection, and in his case, employment."
"I can't believe I never thought of how hard this must be for all of you. I mean, you were just children during the war. It isn't really fair to condemn you for how you acted then," Hermione felt herself almost shake with indignation at the injustice of it all.
"So were you," Draco pointed out. "And yet you chose the right side."
"So did you. You ended up where you were meant to be eventually," she replied.
"Eventually," he agreed, looking into her eyes.
She had a funny feeling he wasn't talking about the war any longer.
A/n: Thank you so much for the reviews, alerts and favourites after the last chapter! They spurred me into finishing up the next chapter quickly and putting it up. Hope that you have all enjoyed the latest update. If you enjoyed my work, please leave me a review! It's a great feeling to know that people are reading my work :)