Love, as always, to LightofEvolution, who updated her own ball of adorable Dramione fluff today, 'Being Silly' :)
It is late in the afternoon when Harry finally floos to Draco's library. He steps out, not even bothering with an initial call, and takes in the image of Draco and Hermione, both lounging on a large sofa with a stack of books between them.
"You're in," he grins, obviously quite proud of himself. "You only have fifteen minutes, though, and it has to be now."
Hermione looks at her watch and notes the time: three in the afternoon. It's later than she realized. Harry must have worked diligently for hours to secure this interview. She's grateful and she tells him so.
"Even if I didn't love you like family, Hermione, at the very least it's my job. Come on, let's see what this Time Lord has to say."
Azkaban is as welcoming as always. Which is to say, it is dark and cold, and the staff treats the visiting Aurors like a nuisance. They are finally led down a corridor in what is the more hospitable portion of the prison, each holding cell being afforded basic comforts within.
"Mister Baker?"
The man in question looks up from a book in his lap. His casual demeanor would befit a patient in a waiting room better than a man facing a life sentence in these walls. He looks across his moderately small room, separated from Hermione, Draco, and Harry by the magically charged bars.
"Ahhh, finally, Miss Granger. I've been expecting you."
Hermione would swear her heart stops for a breath, her world narrowing in on immediate clarity, and she understands. "You're looping to," she says gravely. It's not a question but he nods at her anyway.
"I suppose you've come here, hoping I might be of some assistance to put an end to this? I'm afraid you'll be a might disappointed."
"You can't help me?" She deflates a little, even a she argues, "Surely you have some knowledge... at least an idea of what you had done-"
"I wouldn't help you if I could, to be frank. Make no mistake," he continues, "I don't know how this happened. It was certainly not my intent, but I do believe I will just let my loop run its course, if it's all the same."
"What... why in the world...what do you mean you won't help?!" She is flabbergasted, to put a word on it, almost too stunned to speak.
"Mister Baker, I recommend you start being helpful before we have to take measures of our own." Harry's voice is a warning, his position as Head Auror suddenly feeling very much earned.
"Mister Potter, there is nothing with which you can threaten me that would make me more inclined to assist your friend."
"But... you're stuck like this too!" Hermione erupts. "Why punish me for arresting you-"
His laugh, hearty and straight from his belly, interrupting her, and the three wait for him to collect himself. Draco and Harry exchange a concerned glance. "My dear girl, I'm not punishing you. I understand your job and your motives. I can honestly say I bear you no ill will."
She starts to speak but he holds up his hand to stop her and explains, "I'm going to spend the rest of my life in Azkaban either way and we all know it. Unsanctioned Time Magic is forbidden more than any other offense, Dark Magic and Unforgiveables included. But here, on this day, repeating this lovely Monday afternoon, I've not been officially charged. I'm still given a modicum of respect from the guards, a healthy serving of food three times during the day, the ability to send and receive owls, and access to minimal niceties. The repeated interrogation at the beginning and end of the day is a little tiresome, but I find it a fun mental exercise to change up how I handle the telling."
His eyes turn hard and his voice cold as he concludes, "Maybe not tomorrow, but very soon, I would be left nearly for dead in a cold cell. I would be given a thread bare blanket, unidentifiable slop, and a bucket in which to do my business for the rest of my life. No, I think I'd prefer to stay as I am, thank you."
"But... surely," Hermione begins, "there would be some leniency. You never actually used the Time Turner, after all. They can condemn you for intention but action. The sentence for that must be different-"
He cuts her off again with a shake of his head. "There is no difference in this world between intent and deed. You should know by now, Miss Granger, the Wizardly world is far different from that in which you were raised. There is no manslaughter, intentional or not. No motivation, no parole, no witnesses, no fair trial. There is only a crime and punishment, and there is no choice as to what that punishment will be. I committed a crime, Miss Granger, regardless of intent, and Azkaban is the likely result."
"I... but that's..." Hermione, though she works in magical law, has many reservations about the system of which she is a part. She believes wholeheartedly in what she does, keeping the Wizarding world orderly and safe, but she is pragmatic enough, philosophical enough, to acknowledge a grey area the law doesn't see.
"Having a crisis of conscious, girl?" He asks, though not unkindly.
Hermione straightens and levels him with a glare. "If I was, your refusal to help me, to willfully condemn me to this purgatory, certainly doesn't endear you to me."
Baker shakes his head, a little sadly. "It's irrevelant, in any case. I meant what I said, regardless of this debate, I can't help you. I thought I'd fixed the thing. Whatever I did, however we ended up here, I'm afraid I couldn't replicate if I tried."
Having been silent this entire exchange, Draco surprises Hermione when he speaks. "What of the other charms masters? How much did they help?"
"You're asking if they can help you now? It took me piecing together bits and bobs from all of them to reach whatever it is I had done. I don't know if individually they will be of much help either. Whatever this is… what was done…I don't know of any magical theory that supports it."
"I could go to Kingsley," Harry jumps in, impetuous as always. "I'll ask for a reduced sentence. A pardon even, if you will help her."
Hermione looks at her friend fondly, knowing how seriously he takes his job and how much this means, but Baker is shaking his head sadly. "I can't help you, truly. I don't know what I did wrong." She feels like she's been punched and sees it echoed on Harry's face. Draco still looks determined, but simultaneously at a loss.
With a sigh, Hermione relents. "I suppose we will go back to research on our end then. Thank you for your time, Mister Baker."
He snickers and offers a little morosely, "It's my pleasure. Really, I have nothing but..."
She turns and takes a step when he speaks again. "For what it's worth, Miss Granger, I hope you find a way out for yourself. If you do, maybe drop me a visit? I won't even mind if you gloat, it might just be nice for a change in routine."
The walk back to their portkey and then through the ministry is a somber one, Harry attempting a few false starts of conversation as ideas come to him only to be shot down before he's finished them.
When they reach a crossroads of hallways, Harry excuses himself. "I'm going to Kingsley to check in. He wants a report. I'll check back in with you later, alright?"
Hermione nods and thanks him before heading back toward her office. Without asking him, Draco follows. "Back to the manor?" He asks quietly.
She shrugs, suddenly feeling a little downhearted, and he stops her in her tracks, hands on her shoulders. She blinks up at him to find his jaw set.
"Don't give up now, Granger. We only made it to 1720 you know.
She nods. "Right. The Manor."
"Maybe some coffee on the way? I know a café around the corner."
Hermione gives him a sad smile, pretending they haven't been to that café a handful of times, and agrees. "Coffee sounds lovely."
At just past nine, Draco puts down the last book from the eighteenth century and looks over at Hermione. She was watching him finish, having set her own book to the side moments before.
"Anything?" He asks, and she just shakes her head, unable to mask the disappointment on her face.
"We're over halfway through the books, Draco. What if… what if we can't find anything because there just isn't anything to find?"
"Then we try something else," he answers calmly. "The Hogwarts library. Or back to the Ministry. Or ask the centaurs or research in fucking South America… we will find it, Granger."
She nods once, wanting to believe in his stubborn response. She licks her lips and stands. "It's earlier than we usually stop but… honestly I'm worn down. Talking to Baker, having that avenue closed to me, was a bit of a drain."
He nods in understanding and rises from the sofa as well. "When does it start over? Your day, I mean. How late does it loop?"
Hermione shakes her head. "I have no idea, truthfully. I'm always so tired I go to sleep."
"You should stay up, at least once, to see how late you have."
"I should, I suppose, but not tonight. And certainly not to start on 1699," she laughs lightly at first, but then, struck by a thought and feeling a need to liven this very depressing day, she offers, "If I was going to stay up late… I'd hope it would be to indulge in something more enjoyable."
Draco lifts a brow at her, "Oh?"
"It occurs to me, we never had dinner."
He grins at her and asks, "Are you asking me to dinner, Granger?"
She answers with her own smile back and nods. "I am. It wouldn't be the first time either."
He looks only a little surprised, likely the notion of dinner not being so hard to grasp after starting his morning with a shocking kiss. He readily accepts. "Well then, who am I to refuse now? The precedent is already set, it seems."
In a show of gentility, Draco offers his elbow for Hermione to take. Looping her arm around his, she lays her hand delicately on his wrist. He leads her toward the floo and asks, "Where to?"
Pondering, she considers, "Well, we've already been to the Shaved Duck. Oh, and I took you for tapas in muggle London."
"Muggle London, hmm? How did you convince me of that?"
She shrugs noncommittally, like it isn't monumental that pureblood Draco Malfoy dined amongst muggles. "I thought you might enjoy a break from wizarding society."
"Did I like it," he asks softly and she looks to find him studying her.
"You did," she answers back, equally quiet, caught in his gaze like a trap. "I mean," she licks her lips, "I think you liked the food, but you definitely had a nice time…" Searching his eyes, she lets the implication hang, purposeful and obvious.
Draco reaches out and brushes a curl back from her cheek, stroking the skin as he does. "We should try that then."
Hermione nods, heart racing at how close they suddenly are. So many intimate moments, first kisses and touches, and still each one makes her feel warm and breathless.
"Draco-"
He doesn't wait for her to finish her thought, which is just as well since she has no idea what it would have been. He presses his lips against hers and it's another first all over again: The first time he surprises her with a kiss. It takes her very little time to recover before she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him close. What starts as tentative quickly becomes heated, and then he has her pushed against the wall. One arm cages her, the fireplace to her right, while his other hand splays against her lower back, pulling her pelvis against him.
He's never been this frenzied before. Maybe because the day started so quickly, her panic gaining his trust faster than most days. Maybe because this happened so suddenly. They spent the afternoon cordial and friendly but her flirting came on strong at the day's end. Whatever the reason, she's never felt as desired as she does this time, with his strong hand holding her tight and the hardness of him pressed into her thigh. His kiss is bruising, devouring… full of tongue and pressure and teeth.
Hermione reaches cautiously down, finding him pressed against his trousers, and strokes along the outline of him. He grunts into her mouth and his other hand curls into her hair, pulling at the nape of her neck. She is encouraged and continues to run her fingers along his length, the pads of three fingers pressed firmly, thumb stroking up the side.
His hand has wandered from her back and he is cupping her breast through her blouse, caressing the peak and forcing a shudder through her.
They've never reached this point before; this intense petting. There is a promise of more in the taste of him, in the firmness of his touch.
Draco's hands move to work on the buttons of her blouse. He is frantic now, trembling, but never breaks the kiss. He caresses her mouth with his like he needs her to breathe. Her shirt is open before she can even realize it, and he pulls one cup aside to expose her breast to the cool air. His lips, ripped from her mouth, leave her bereft only for a moment, before he runs a line of kisses across her cleavage. It is only a moment more before he finally takes her peak into his mouth, tongue flicking against her. She moans his name and runs his hands into his hair, tugging at it and pleading with him for, "more… yes… oh, Merlin… please…"
He is worshipping her and she wants everything he has, all that he can offer. Swept away and lost in the feel of him, Hermione regains her senses just as he is working the zip on her jeans. "Wait… Draco, wait." She lays a hand over his and pulls it away from her, lifting it to her mouth to land a soft kiss on his knuckle. "We can't," she says regretfully and closes her eyes.
"We certainly can," he pants out. "Have we ever…"
"No… no. Never this far." Her breathing is trying to even out and she groans in frustration. "You made me promise. We can't. Merlin's Fucking Beard I want to, but I can't."
He's looking at her strangely, trying to make sense of her mixed signals, she's sure. "I made you promise?"
She nods, taking another cleansing breath, and explains, "You said we should wait until the loop is broken. You said you didn't want it to be something you couldn't remember."
"What the fuck? Why in Salazar's name would I do that?!"
She can't help but laugh a little at his distress. There's an element of the petulant pureblood boy he was raised to be under the delicious exterior of the man. She inelegantly blurts out, "You're so adorable..." He makes a face but she continues, "Believe me, if you hadn't made me promise, you'd be shagging me on the hearth by now."
He groans and drops his forehead onto her shoulder and grumbles, "I was probably right."
Hermione grins and pats his cheek. "You are, on occasion. I made you a promise in return though."
Looking up, he asks, "Did you? And that was…?"
"I promised that on Tuesday, I'm yours. And Draco, I won't forget."
He kisses her then; one last heavy press of his lips to hers, as he takes a deep breath in through his nose. "I can't say I'll hold you to that, but you better fucking remember."
Hermione laughs again, all the while righting her blouse and trying to look a little less disheveled. "Are you still hungry?"
"Not for tapas," he grouses, but turns to the floo anyway and gestures for her to take the lead.
It's nearly midnight when she finally falls into bed, the memory of a delicious meal, entertaining conversation, and a good night kiss to rival any that preceded it, sending her off into a deep sleep.
Good evening! Hope you're not disappointed Baker didn't have a quick fix. I guess our couple will have to keep searching :)
Can I just throw out a big thanks again? I'm so thrilled by how much many of your are enjoying the story. It absolutely makes my day to hear your comments, theories, and overall enjoyment with each chapter.