Chapter 11

Draco felt like Hermione was leaving a trail of fire everywhere she touched him. One minute he thought he was going to pass out, and the next the thing he knew, Hermione was kissing him and giving him his strength back.

Hermione did not know how, but somehow Draco sat up, lifted her, and she was practically on his lap. All without breaking their kiss. She did not know why this felt so good or even if this was the spirit controlling her. All she knew was she never wanted it to end. She did not even mind when he started to trail his fingers underneath the back of her shirt. It gave her butterflies in her stomach and arousing shivers. She felt like nothing mattered except being as close to Malfoy as she could get.

When they finally broke apart, it was because Draco realized he might go too far. And with Hermione, that would be bad.

They were both breathing hard, with their clothes wrinkled and not looking at each other. Hermione's mind was racing. What in Merlin's name had she been doing? Just because the spirit had told her to kiss Malfoy did not mean she should have started making out with him! What had she been thinking?

You weren't thinking, obviously. And it's not like you did not enjoy it. And look! He's better! Looks like I was right. The spirit teased her.

Hermione sighed in frustration and Draco misinterpreted it as her being upset at him. Carefully, so as not to scare her, he eased his lap out from under her legs. "Sorry," Hermione said blushing red and pulling her shirt back down. She felt like a harlot kissing Malfoy like that. How could she have not realized what she was doing?

"What happened?" Draco asked, watching Hermione look anywhere but at him. He did not remember coming up to her room. Had he incited the kissing? If so, Hermione's two best friends would kill him when she decided to tell them about this. But why hadn't Hermione pushed him away? She had been responding as fervently as him.

Hermione did not know how to say it. Every way she phrased the situation in her head sounded bad. But she had to give him some sort of explanation. She could sense him watching her.

Taking a calming breath, Hermione turned to look at him. "Well, you were walking up the stairs and suddenly, you fell. You were so weak I had to help you walk up all of the stairs. And then you sort of fainted so I brought you here," she said gesturing to her bed, blushing again. "And you weren't responding every time I said your name so I panicked."

"So you kissed me?" Draco asked, something resembling humor creeping I to his voice. That did not seem like some Hermione would do.

"No. Well, I didn't really want to at first. The spirit suggested it."

"The spirit suggested you kiss me?" Draco asked, surprised. "I know I'm very attractive but I did not know that applied to ghosts too."

Hermione rolled her eyes. How could he manage to laugh? Hermione just felt hot all over. And awkward. "Funny Malfoy, but yes she did." Draco watched as Hermione tilted her head as she thought. He tried to focus on something else, but his gaze just drifted back to her exposed neck. "She said the last time something like this happened to someone she knew, she kissed the person and they got better."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "And coincidentally it worked on me too."

"Apparently," Hermione said nodding.

"Your lip is bleeding," he said, frowning. He used his thumb to wipe the blood away and Hermione stared at the crimson color, a stark contrast against his skin.

"Maybe that's why it worked," Hermione mused.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't follow."

"Love potions only work on people when someone's DNA, say from a hair strand or blood, is mixed in with the potion. So since the potion is still in your system, maybe when you kissed me, and my blood got into your system, the potion was - for lack of a better word - satisfied. And that made you get better."

Draco nodded. "But I did not ingest anyone else's blood before. Why did I collapse and have that kind of reaction?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Now, that is a good question."

And just like that she was lost in thought. Thinking about how this was all another mystery she needed to solve. But Draco would rather her pay attention to him, which was an odd feeling. It made him feel vulnerable and unbalanced to need someone. Nevertheless, it was better than being ignored. He blamed it on the love potion.

"So how do I kiss Granger?" Draco asked, breaking Hermione out of her thoughts. When she realized what he said, she stared at him shock.

"Excuse me?" she asked. Him saying that made it all the more real and hard to forget.

"You heard me. How. Do. I. Kiss?" Hermione just stared at him, flustered. What kind of question was that? Draco stretched, watching as Hermione eyed his arms. He didn't know why he was flirting with her. It just came as easy to him as insulting her a month ago. "Well, I'll tell you. You kiss much more fiercely than Pansy." At this, Hermione began blushing red yet again. "Or maybe she does too and I just stopped noticing." He shrugged. Draco hated to admit it, but there was something about kissing Hermione that made him not want to stop.

Ignoring the flicker of annoyance of being compared to Pansy, Hermione thought about what he said. "Wait, so did you kiss Pansy today?" Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged. "More like she kissed me. Yeah. Why?" he could practically see the wheels spinning in Hermione's head. "What Granger?"

"Well, since that love potion, you've been attracted to me right?" Draco nodded. "In odd ways too, like you cannot tolerate the way people smell."

"Especially girls that are not you." Draco added, understanding slowly.

"Yes, so maybe kisses from others work like that too."

Draco frowned. "So as long as this unfortunate potion is in my body, I cannot kiss anyone besides you."

Hermione nodded, a little embarrassed at the annoyed face he was making. "Or else you'll be very ill."

Draco sighed.

"Do you kiss girls often?" Hermione asked. She knew girls slept around with him, but still. He was acting like he would not be able to go another day if he could not kiss whomever he wanted.

Draco flashed her a smile. "Jealous Granger?" Hermione glared at him. The arrogant prick. "Don't fret. After that session with you, I won't be kissing anyone else for a while."

Session? Hermione stared at him, aghast. "The nerve of you." she exclaimed. "I saved your life!"

"Would you like to be rewarded with another kiss or something?" he laughed, but quickly stopped when Hermione reached for her wand.

"Get out of my room ferret, or I will hex you out." Hermione threatened. She was getting tired of him.

The next morning, Draco woke up in Hermione's room on the inflatable bed. They had been up late bickering last night and Draco was not surprised to find Hermione still asleep.

She's beautiful when she sleeps isn't she?

Draco frowned. Looks like the spirits had not disappeared after all.

Ignoring the urge to look at Hermione to see how she slept, Draco went to the bathroom to freshen up. When he was ready, he walked out of the school. Since it was early morning, no one noticed him.

When he arrived at the edge of Hogwarts grounds he saw the Portkey. It was a small locket, simple and not particularly noticeable. Counting to three in his head, he touched the locket.

Thousands of colors whizzed past him for a mere second and then stopped. His stomach lurched as the world around him came into focus. Taking a deep breath, he touched the gate of the Malfoy Manor and they moved so he could enter.

After the war, Narcissa and Draco had not returned to the mansion. They had stayed in a villa in Paris and only came back to the manor on the day of Lucius's trial. After he was sentenced, Narcissa suggested she and Draco move back into the mansion but he refused. He liked the villa in Paris, it did not have any trace of Death Eater memories.

But here, even as he walked the path to the manor, Draco remembered everything about last year. When his mother opened the door and hugged him, he felt like it was just yesterday he had seen Voldemort walk through this door.

His mother stepped away from him and smiled, looking him up and down. Draco was used to her asking about his health frequently in her letters. But this time he said it first instead. "Have you been eating well?"

She smiled, "I have. I'm glad you decided to come. It's pretty lonely here."

"No house elves?" Draco asked, beginning to look around the house. It looked very different. And it vaguely smelled like something burnt.

"No, I'd rather not have them any more. I furnished the house though. I'm learning to do more work myself. What do you think?"

Draco walked around. The house was brighter. No more dark curtains and dark furniture. Instead Narcissa had brought in light pink curtains, which had been moved to let the sun in, tan sofas, as well as pictures on the walls.

"It looks great," Draco murmured, impressed. It did not look like a house where countless people had died. "How long did this take you?"

"It took a couple of weeks to find house elves I could hire that didn't mind working for me, but after that, it only took a week." she smiled. "Lucius always loved a dark atmosphere, but I've grown tired of it. It was pretty sad living here. I thought it needed a change." Draco nodded, she understood why he did not want to live here before, so she changed it.

"What do you do all day?"

"Oh, I got this muggle device called a TV. I'll show it later. How about some breakfast?" she asked with a smile and Draco smiled back, nodding. He wanted to enjoy being with his mother, but the house just made his skin crawl.

Meanwhile in Hogwarts, Hermione awoke to find the inflatable bed empty. She rubbed her eyes, wondering where Malfoy was. They had been arguing last night but she had been pretty sure he had slept in her room.

She shrugged, maybe he had something to do.

As she was brushing her teeth she thought about how weird it was that seeing Malfoy in the morning had become a norm. It definitely was not like this last year. Or a even a week ago. Him being affected by the love potion had changed Hermione's life.

As she headed to the Great Hall for breakfast, she dismissed him from her mind. What mattered now was making a straight face when she saw Ron. She could not let him, or anyone else for that matter, find out that she had snogged Malfoy.

It was not like she and Ron were together or anything. But at the end of last year he had all but professed his love for her. Hunting for horcruxes had brought them together, but spending summer apart hindered what they had. Ron had been busy with his family while Hermione had worked as an assistant to someone in the Ministry. They'd communicated by letters but it was not the same.

And she had a sinking feeling he was having feelings for her again. It was not that she did not like Ron, it was just that she did not want a relationship. It was their last year at Hogwarts, she just wanted to put effort in schoolwork and having fun before everyone went their separate ways.

But she felt like every time she tried explaining that to Ron, he just would see it as being rejected.

He's not the one for you.

What the spirit said made Hermione trip. Excuse me? She thought back. The spirit was acting like it actually knew Hermione's whole life. Like it actually had a say in who was good for Hermione.

I may not know this Ron fellow at all. But I do know that he is not the one for you.

You didn't live my life. You don't know anything. Hermione thought angrily. She hated when others told her what she should do with her life. Like her opinion didn't matter or something.

When she sat down with her friends, she was still a bit angry. Only Ginny dared talk to her.

"Malfoy do something to you?" she asked Hermione, buttering her toast.

Hermione huffed. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? No, it's not Malfoy."

"Well, something is obviously wrong."

"What makes you think that Ginny?"

Ginny snorted. "Look at your hands. You've been grounding that muffin into the table for the last ten minutes." Sure enough, Hermione looked at her hands and found a smashed muffin.

Embarrassed, she quickly began wiping her hands on a napkin.

"You've been on the edge since Thursday and you didn't even stop by Gryffindor tower last night for our usual Friday-night-fun. What's up?"

Hermione sighed. She had not realized that she forgot to meet Ginny last night. The sooner the love potion was out of Malfoy's system, the better. But she could not tell Ginny that she had forgotten because she had been talking with Malfoy. Even though Hermione was willing to be civil to him, that did not mean everyone else would be too.

"I'm just stressed Gin; about school work. You know how I get."

Ginny gave her a look like she didn't believe that was all, but she let it go. If Hermione did not want to tell her right now, it was okay. "Okay, but you know Ron's going to pester you about it if you're still upset when we go to Hogsmeade."

Hermione sighed. She had forgotten about Hogsmeade. She really wanted to tell Ginny what she was thinking about Ron, but she could not get the words to come out. She may have been sitting with her friends but she felt very lonely.

Draco and Narcissa were scanned by two wizards before entering Azkaban. It smelled putrid and it was dark everywhere. Above them, Dementors roamed. They were told a million rules which Draco barely listened to. He was mostly distracted by the environment of Azkaban.

Finally, they were allowed to follow a man, Auror Manin, to a cell. All around them, were people yelling. Some about nightmares that Azkaban gave them, some about how they were innocent and others muttering incoherent gibberish.

However, when they reached Lucius, he was silent. He sat there, looking defeated. It didn't even register to him that he had visitors until Narcissa said his name. "Lucius?"

It made Draco sick. Gone was the father who had raised him to stand up straight and be strong. In his place was a broken man.

"Lucius, it's me." Narcissa called out, unfortunately unable to reach through the bars of the cell.

Lucius looked up slowly. His eyes were hollowed out and red, like he'd been crying. His eyes met Draco's and before he realized it, Draco was saying, "Father,"

Lucius looked between Narcissa and Draco for a moment. Realizing that they were looking at him, he got up.

Draco could feel his mother tense beside him, and he knew why. Lucius looked so different. He looked like he had not eaten nor seen the sunshine in years. Yet he'd only been in Azkaban for four months. Afraid Narcissa would start crying, Draco held her hand.

Lucius finally reached them. He was only looking at Narcissa. No one said anything for a while and then Lucius smiled, surprising Draco.

Narcissa, who had been quietly crying, smiled back. She stepped forward, resting her forehead on the cell bars and Lucius did the same from inside of the cell.

"Don't get too close." Auror Manin warned, but it did not matter to Lucius or Narcissa.

Draco could hear Lucius softly whispering, "Cissa," Over and over. During the time when Voldemort had come into power, Draco never saw his parents talking much. And instead of talking, they mostly yelled at each other. But it never occurred to Draco that maybe they had cared for each other once. Before the threat of war.

When Narcissa stopped crying, she said, "I've changed the house. It looks nothing like it used to." There was a hint of pride in her voice.

Lucius nodded. "That's good. Are you going to take up piano again too?" he was looking at Narcissa as if she was the oasis in a desert. Draco did not remember the last time he had seen that look on his father's face.

"No," she said swelling a lump in her throat. "It reminds me too much of you. I am teaching myself to cook though. Did you hear house elves are throwing a revolt and only working for pay?"

Lucius shook his head, still the man who believed elves were born to be slaves. "It's not too hard?"

Narcissa laughed, and all of Azkaban seemed to hush for a moment as her laughter rang against the walls. "Oh believe me, it is hard. You cannot imagine the amount of times I've burnt the pots. But one day maybe I'll be able to make something Draco or I can actually eat."

Lucius chuckled and turned to Draco. "Draco," he said, looking him up and down. "I'm so glad you're safe."

Somehow Draco managed to say, "I'm surprised you're alive. You look as thin as my hair."

Lucius nodded with a grim face. "I'll live."

"Are they feeding you at all?" Narcissa asked, eyeing the Auror.

"I just haven't had an appetite." Lucius replied with a shrug.

Narcissa gave him a concerned look. "You need to eat Lucius."

But he just shrugged again. "What kind of life is this? Why should I eat? Just to live in this cell for the rest of my life? I don't want that kind of life." Draco was stunned. His father never seemed like the type of person to just give up. But now he was saying he'd starve himself because he was stuck in Azkaban. As if he should punish himself for being in here. Draco felt sorry for him.

"Do it for me," Narcissa said suddenly. "For me and Draco." Lucius looked at her and sighed, hating that she had to see him in this broken condition. "You're all we have Lucius." She was crying again, and swiftly wiped away her tears.

"It's lunch time for him now." Auror Manin said quietly. "You can come back another day."

Lucius sighed, his eyes watery. "You two should go. Have lunch or something, I'll eat." Narcissa sniffed, nodding. Draco gave her hand a squeeze as she composed herself. "Draco," Lucius called before they left. "Take care of your mother."

Draco nodded. Even though he was broken, Lucius would always be a family oriented person. And Draco found he could at least be proud of his father for something.

They said nothing on their way home, and after a small bowl of pasta, Narcissa said she would take a nap. Draco didn't mind, it gave him a chance to look for the spirit books and get his mind off of his father.

Thankfully, the only thing Narcissa had changed in the library were the curtains. The books were untouched.

Casting a quick cleaning charm, Draco got the dust off of the books. When he started going through them, he realized he did not really want to. Instead he just picked up a random few that he knew contained information about spirits and sat in his father's chair, leafing through them.

After a while, he was not really doing that either. He just kept seeing his mother and father's faces.

They looked like they really love each other. It's quite tragic.

Draco sighed, he really just wanted some quiet time, but this was the first chance he had gotten in a long time to communicate with the spirit. What's tragic? He thought back.

That he has to live there, while your mother has to live here. Without him. When Draco didn't respond the spirit asked, Why has he been imprisoned?

He... He made some wrong decisions and followed a wrong person. There was a war, in which many people died and my father happened to be on the side that lost. So the side that won imprisoned him for making the wrong decision.

Do you think he deserves that? Being imprisoned?

Draco shrugged. Everyone in Azkaban deserves to be there for what they've done. Why else would they be imprisoned?

I think being there has made him a sad man. I think he should at least be allowed to be with his family somehow. You deserve that.

"He killed people," Draco said, no longer just thinking. "People died because of my father. People like me lost their fathers because my father killed them. He can't just be allowed to walk the streets. He can't be trusted." He was surprised to hear sadness in his voice instead of disgust. And he knew his father only followed Voldemort because there was nothing else he could have done. Yet he could do nothing to voice this. And it was not like anyone was willing to care. After the war, anyone who had been on Voldemort's side and was not dead or in Azkaban were shunned from society. Even if Draco tried to plead his father's case, he doubted anyone would listen. He doubted anyone would care.

There was a creak from the door as Narcissa entered. "Oh Draco," she murmured. "I know your father made some wrong decisions, but he's a good man." she sniffed, and Draco felt bad that she had heard him. "He used to be a good man. I know he has not been the best father to you, Draco but- He tried, dear. He was just trying to be there for you the only way he knew how."

Draco sighed. "I know mother. I was just thinking to myself. Don't worry." he said handing her a handkerchief. "I thought you were sleeping anyway,"

She shook her head. "I couldn't sleep. I thought you would like to see the TV. Did I show it to you yet?" she asked, leading him to the living room. "And tell me about Hogwarts. How is everything?"

And so they spent the rest of the day like that. Talking about life and not talking about what was troubling them the most.

"You want to get some candy?" Ron asked Hermione.

"No thanks. I'm still full from lunch." Hermione said. She just didn't want to be alone at a table right now with Ron.

Ginny and Harry had disappeared somewhere a while ago so now it was just Ron and Hermione. And it was awkward. Hermione had been mostly dodging Ron, but it was difficult, not to mention she was hurting him.

"Do you want to go look in here?" Ron asked, referring to a book shop.

Hermione shrugged. She had been feeling uneasy because she had not seen Malfoy's blonde hair all day. Granted, he was probably with his friends or something, but Hermione kept expecting to see him somewhere.

Thinking of Malfoy gave her an idea. Going into the bookshop, she quickly looked for anything related to spirits.

"So," Ron said, watching Hermione scan the shelves one by one. "looking for anything in particular?"

"Yeah, but don't worry about it." Hermione said finding a book. Ron, not knowing what else to do, just watched her.

"You know you have been acting really uh, distracted lately. Is everything okay?" he asked her. Hermione nodded, putting the book back. It was pretty basic. Nothing like actual history or facts about spirits. Nothing like what she was looking for.

"Just school, Ron. As usual." And then, because she was upset that she had not found a good book she asked, "Ron, what do you think about spirits?"

Hermione thought he would shrug and make a dumb joke. Instead he put his hand in his pockets and looked a little past her shoulder.

"I think they're the souls of dead people. This guy was saying that at Fred's funeral. He said Fred, because he loved my family so much, would be watching over us. As a spirit. Almost like a guardian." His voice shook a little and without thinking, Hermione held his hand. "But I don't want Fred to be watching us. I'd want him to, I don't know, do what it is souls do when they die. Anything but just silently watching. What if he gets sad watching us? I know I would."

Hermione smiled. "Well if he is watching, I think he would be happy to know that even though he's gone, you and many others still care for his happiness. Maybe he's watching over to just see you be happy."

Ron looked at her and smiled back. For a second, Hermione forgot that she shouldn't be leading Ron to think they were more than friends.

"Thanks Mione," When he pulled her in a close hug giving her a small kiss on the cheek, Hermione did not resist. Being with Ron was comfortable, easy. It did not involve silly arguments, or keeping secrets from her friends. Maybe she was just over thinking as usual.