A little shorter than the others but I think you've all been waiting for this. So much more to come!

The Mask Removed

The morning edition of the Daily Prophet arrived on his coffee table with a flourish. He stopped midway through tying his tie and stooped to pick up the paper. He snapped the material to straighten it and sighed when he spotted her picture on the front page.

She'd been promoted again. Her smiling face was looping through the picture as she shook Kingsley Shacklebolt's hand.

He'd watched over the last couple of years since the war as she'd risen through the ranks. Her hard work spoke for itself.

Relief. Sweet relief knowing she was okay. She was successful and everything they'd never wanted her to be.

He didn't quite understand why but he was so fucking proud of her that he nearly forgot for a moment just what part he'd played in it all.

He tore her picture carefully from the paper and folded it gently. Perhaps it was a bit mad but seeing that she was alright settled his lingering guilt when he needed it most. Seeing her succeed in this world after all that had happened in the past was like a balm for his blackened heart.

~o~O~o~

Draco had been on pins and needles all day until he showed up on her doorstep again. Seeing her out of her work clothes and in jeans and a comfortable jumper did nothing for his nerves when she opened the door. He'd stood there like a buffoon as she slid into her peacoat and scarf—the weather was changing after all—and she'd seemed slightly amused by his silence.

Having snogged the woman in her office just hours before, he'd have expected to be more at ease around her. However, the witch seemed to have set him off kilter despite his attempt at confidence. Being away from her for the rest of the afternoon with nothing but time to think and rethink his actions and this decision had left him feeling more than doubtful of himself.

As she was warding her door, he bounced on his heels lightly, hands thrust deep in his coat pockets. "I hope you like Italian. There's a place nearby that I've been to with Blaise. I thought we could walk instead of apparate if that's okay."

Hermione pocketed her wand and turned to face him. She pointed a single finger at herself and grinned wryly. "Muggle-born."

The wizard snorted and shook his head at himself before giving her a short nod. "Right."

They walked side-by-side quietly the few blocks it took to reach the restaurant. Hermione kept glancing up at him discreetly to gauge his mood. He was oddly quiet. She had to wonder if he now regretted kissing her. Did he regret asking her out, too? Or perhaps, and it seemed likely for someone as guarded as he normally was, he was uncertain after having revealed the truth behind their joint past. She could relate of course. It wasn't like she had a reputation for being open with people.

Draco could feel her dark eyes on him and tried numerous times to think of something to say to break the thin layer of ice between them now. A joke, a teasing comment—anything that would give some semblance of his old self to her. But he'd been unmasked now. She knew who he was underneath their interactions as children but revealing the true nature behind his behavior had altered things—at least in his mind it had.

He was sarcastic and a bit broody at times. Maybe even a bit full of himself depending upon the topic. That part of his personality was never a lie. However, the vile things he'd said and done were by no means a part of who he really was. He had no issue baiting people like Weasley and annoying them with his quips but he'd never truly wanted to hurt people to the point that he had.

What would she think of him now that every last layer of filth had been peeled away?

"I find it interesting," she started after they were seated at a quiet table near a wide window, "that everything I ever thought of you when we were children was likely wrong."

Draco shrugged uncomfortably as he dragged his eyes from the menu in front of him. "And what do you think of me given what you've seen the last few months?"

She tipped her head thoughtfully as she observed him, looked beyond the veneer of his appearance and attempted to see beyond the expensive grey jumper and stylish coat. Beyond the clean haircut and into the dark swirls of his grey eyes trained upon her.

"I think I quite fancy him. Even with his sneering and biting wit. But is he who you've always been?"

He lifted a pale brow at that but his expression softened some. Less guarded if that was possible.

"I've never been anyone else. Unfortunately, you were treated to a fabricated façade."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully and glanced down at her menu again. "I do hope the sarcasm wasn't a façade. Harry and Ron are rubbish with wit and I could use a good laugh from time to time."

Draco snorted at that, a slow smirk forming on his mouth. "I think you could use a few good laughs on a regular basis actually."

"Are you calling me dull," she questioned without even glancing up.

He shook his head and moved his menu aside. It was by no means as interesting as looking at her. His attraction to her hadn't been instant when they were younger. It had been something they'd both had to grow into—her growing into her appearance and him growing into appreciating it.

"There's not a single thing dull about you, Granger."

She huffed out a light laugh and folded her menu aside as well. "Granger again, am I?"

He shrugged noncommittally, "Granger sometimes, Hermione the others. S'all the same in the end, isn't it?"

She rolled her eyes but just nodded. "I suppose it will take time for you to quit calling me by my surname."

"Calling you by your given name always felt too intimate and forbidden to me. I didn't feel like I had permission."

Hermione drew a slow breath as she watched his eyes dart off to study the adjacent light fixture as he spoke the admission so casually.

"If you need permission to feel comfortable, I'll give it to you. I'd prefer it if you'd call me Hermione."

When he turned his attention back to her, his answering smirk relaxed her again. There he was. There was the Draco Malfoy she'd grown used to recently.

He was thankful when they fell into an easy but simple dinner conversation about books. It was mostly surface level topics to ease the tension in his shoulders. She didn't seem to mind all the same.

After paying the bill, which she tried to help with before he quickly stopped her protests with one sharp look, he suggested a walk through a park near her home.

"You still feel uncomfortable," Hermione finally noted as she walked alongside him down the cobbled walkway.

Draco glanced down at her to find her inquisitive brown eyes watching him intently, trying to understand him. Trying to piece him apart as she did any other mystery or dilemma.

He chuckled and nodded, "How'd you guess?"

Hermione turned her attention in front of them again and shrugged, her hands deep in her pockets for warmth. Her shoulder kept bumping his arm as they walked and she nearly thought he'd reach out and wrap an arm around her.

The cocky Draco Malfoy would have. Yet that part of him seemed to have been peeled away for the moment and had been wavering all night. In his place was a raw exterior she was entirely unfamiliar with.

She didn't know if she should feel honored that he trusted her to see this side of himself or concerned that some essential part of his confidence seemed missing in her presence now.

"You snogged me in my office, asked me to dinner, and then were oddly quiet over said dinner. Where'd the irritatingly confident Malfoy run off to?"

He snorted and tilted his head back to glance at the sky. So many stars. So many mistakes for which to seek forgiveness. This was clearly going to be a process for him to come to terms with. If she had the patience to put up with it.

"All night he's been anticipating your load of questions you no doubt have and all you've done is go on about books and other relatively safe topics." He blinked down at her quickly and lifted a knowing eyebrow, "Not that I mind the book talk. You're quite adorable when you go off on one of your bloody academic tangents."

Hermione drew the corner of her lip between her teeth, a faint blush beginning to flood her cheeks. He was teasing her. But it was different now. How odd.

"Where should I start then?"

Draco shrugged and glanced down at her hands stuffed in her pockets. Wordlessly, he reached out and looped his arm through hers casually.

"Wherever you'd like. You deserve the full truth. I'll give it to you."

Hermione nodded to herself. She'd been considering asking him more about the letters all day. It had sounded as if he'd been nearly as trapped as they all had been in a sick system meant to exploit them. It couldn't have been easy on him.

"Did he hurt you?"

He drew a slow breath through his nose, staring straight ahead again with her slender arm tucked close to him. He could smell the light wafting of her perfume every now and then and took comfort from the soft, floral scent.

Leave it to her to ask a selfless question first.

"He beat me at first. Whenever I came home and you'd bested me in class again. Or if I slipped and complained about you too much." He looked down at her again only to find her staring back. "That's how it started. Me complaining about you."

Hermione snorted at that and nodded. He'd not always been a complete git to her. He'd started as an inconvenient irritant.

"I can only imagine. You weren't exactly impressed with me at first. What with my buck teeth, uncontrollable hair, and let's not forget my blood."

"I resented not being the best. Lucius Malfoy always expected the best and for his only son to have been beaten by a muggle-born…well, let's just say he wasn't pleased."

"What happened next?"

He could feel her pity but knew he had to deal with it for once. If he was going to have a sincere chance with her, he'd have to come completely clean. And she was a horribly caring sort so there was no doubt she'd feel sorry for him.

"Well, I did my best to beat you but frankly you're quite the intellectual force to be reckoned with. I complained a bit too much one time and that's when he first threatened to…hurt you should I not stand up for myself."

"When I slapped you," she surmised.

"Yes, that was it. He then decided I was old enough for the cruciatus after that."

Hermione tugged hard on his arm, pulling them to a stop. She stared up at him in shock.

"Your own father used an Unforgivable on you? Draco, that's…that's barbaric!"

He shrugged and pulled free from her, taking up a seat on a nearby bench. He folded his hands between his knees comfortably and watched her as she stood before him, fuming on his behalf. What an odd sight.

He'd seen her get angry over the injustice presented to others more times than he could count but how strange to see that same reaction on his behalf.

"It's odd how sophisticated and progressive so many pureblood families believe they are when in reality they're quite backwards. Barbaric, as you put it."

Hermione stood there in mild shock. She just couldn't fathom a parent torturing their own child for any reason at all. She'd always known his father was sick and demented but that really did take the cake.

"Draco, I-I'm so sorry. I wish I'd known." She shook her head, wild curls shaking about her shoulders. "Why in the world would you endure that for a girl you didn't even like?"

His grey eyes softened slightly and he stood again, craning his neck to look down at her once more. He'd not realized just how significant their height difference was. She stood a full head shorter without heels.

There was an archaic urge to protect her, hold her, and shield her from all harm. He knew better than many that her magical abilities far exceeded most and she could take care of herself but it never seemed to assuage his need to take care of her. It had been a thankless job for so long. Would she shy away from that possessive urge or allow him to indulge it, even just a little? He only needed an inch, he wouldn't take a mile.

"I did like you. Maybe not at first but I learned to like you. I wasn't the petulant child everyone always believed I was. For whatever reason, I had a soft spot for you. At first I was just too weak to withstand actually intentionally hurting someone. Then…well I know I said horrible things about your appearance but they weren't true."

She lifted a challenging eyebrow at that. "Draco, I did have buckteeth. I'm not stupid, you know."

He rolled his eyes in response and smirked. "I'm well aware. After the buckteeth were gone. Before that…I honestly just couldn't stomach the idea of someone being killed because of me. After, well, I felt protective for an entirely different reason. You were beautiful. Are beautiful."

He reached out slowly, afraid to startle, and cupped her cheek gently. Her eyes fluttered at the gentle touch and he swore she leaned into it. Her skin was as soft as he'd imagined.

"I swore to my mother once that I'd kill the bastard myself it he so much as touched a hair on your head." He smirked at the way her eyes widened at that. "She didn't approve of course but she didn't argue either." His smirk melted and he shook his head. "But I failed, Hermione. They did touch you. They scarred you for life. But it was me who scarred you emotionally."

"We're both rather fucked up then, aren't we?"

His eyes widened and he grinned amusedly at her rare use of vulgar language. She was full of surprises really.

"I suppose so. I've told you the truth and you've not hexed me yet. That must mean something good."

"Something," she nodded in agreement, a wry smile now gracing her lips.

Her smiles were still new to him. A part of him still couldn't fathom that she was directing them at him.

He sighed and held out a hand for her.

Hermione eyed his outstretched hand for a moment, his pale skin a stark contrast to his dark coat. She must have taken too long as his lips twitched into a frown before he covered the expression quickly and began to lower his hand.

She placed her hand in his though, heart tightening when he squeezed it gently.

"Thank you, Draco."

He looked confused for a moment and narrowed his eyes in question.

"Whatever for?"

She gave his hand a squeeze in return. "For the truth. For protecting me."

"But I—"

She lifted onto her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth before sinking back to her heels. "You did the best you could."

There was no judgement in her eyes. No disgust, no hatred. Nothing that he felt he still deserved.

She looked at him with such hope and admiration that it nearly undid him on the spot.

Draco lifted their joined hands so he could press a kiss to her knuckles, thankful that he could openly do so now, before pulling her into his side. "Let me walk you home."

He held her hand tightly in his as they made the return walk to her townhome. He followed behind her as she walked up the steps and discreetly lowered the wards on her door. She turned to him to find him standing face level, a step below her.

"Thank you for dinner."

"Thank you for accepting," he countered.

Draco watched the way she nodded, eyes darting down to her hands as she was wringing them in front of her. Bright and confident one moment, shy and reserved the next—this witch would keep him on his toes for sure.

"Did you…want to do something again this weekend," she asked quietly.

She'd always been rubbish with the opposite sex. Never tempted much over the last few years in her hesitance to open up and wasn't sure how to ask for what she wanted—another date, more time to get to know him.

Draco lifted her chin to meet her eyes with a single finger and gave her his signature smirk. "I might be a bit of roiling mess right now as I come to terms with you knowing all of my past but a pack of wild werewolves wouldn't be able to make me say no to that. Yes, I'll owl you tomorrow and we can plan something."

Her shy smile showed itself again and he leaned in to place a chaste kiss to her mouth, much as she'd done for him in the park.

"Goodnight, Hermione."

He waited until she nodded and disappeared behind the front door. He waited until he heard her muggle locks click into place and the feel of her magic warding the door again before a smile lit his features.

So many years of anger and desperation flanked by hatred and ill-will—perhaps it might all be worth it for this.