a/n I am facepalming myself because at the end of the previous chapter being tired AF I didn't see that I wrote this days, and not these days. I am sorry. I fixed it, but now you seen it so.. yeah..
This is one of the biggest chapters so far. I had ideas flowing into my head, but I was like, keep it short (not) and the story will continue as you thought.
This Sunday is my birthday and I wanted to upload two chapters this week, but I didn't have the time. I hope you like this chapter, because the next one is going to be.. well, you will see.
Thank you aaaaall for your reviews, follows and favorites, you are amazing! I wish you the best and I send you all my love!
The Unity of Opposites
Chapter Thirteen
Connection
Hermione woke up in the middle of the night. Her heart started to beat fast, at the familiar sense of silk sheets on her body.
She blinked slowly, as her eyes started to adjust to the darkness of the room. She took a big breath, smelling the fade cologne of his in the air.
She exhaled fast, feeling his scent burning her insides and then she felt it - a light heaviness on top of her stomach.
Raising her head a little, she frowned at the sight of his big pale hand resting on her body. Her eyes stayed there, as five fingers were touching her covered flesh.
She started to breathe slowly now, thinking that he might understand that she wasn't sleeping and wake up, but her heart was beating faster than before.
She thought that he might hear it - it could almost reach her own ears. She laid her head down again and looked at the white ceiling of his bedroom.
At once her mind brought up the boldness moment that made her walk to him, wanting to be by his side for a while, so she couldn't feel alone.
She knew that it was too much to ask, she knew that he might take it the wrong way, but she did want his company at the moment.
Her lips curled up a little remembering the way he blushed, but she didn't understand it at the moment.
She started to notice the way his hand burned sent heat waves to her body - she didn't even flinch. At that moment, it felt normal to feel his touch.
How was that even possible? How was it possible to make her feel a certain calmness in her heart and mind?
Turning her head to see him, his sleeping face resting gently on top of his pillow, as his right hand was under it and his naked chest was falling and rising slowly.
She looked at him, his peaceful face giving the impression of a totally new person in her eyes in that moment.
Cowardly, she blinked twice, fearing that he might disappear from her sight and she will never have to see this vulnerable stage of him.
Even if she didn't dare to move, as if her smallest action of her body would bother him, in her mind she was laughing.
Who could ever believe her, if she said that she, Hermione Granger, had slept next to him? That she was staring at him, now that he was sleeping. That he was touching her.
She swallowed hard, feeling the way his presence next to her felt right at the moment. Was it all in her imagination?
Not knowing how, her eyes started to travel to his face - a face of a man who caused tears to her younger self, now laying next to her.
It felt surreal to her eyes - surreal and strangely pleasant seeing him like that, calm, peaceful even.
His sometimes frowned forehead now was completely relaxed as his closed eyes, with the perfectly blond eyelashes, dreamed something only Merlin knew.
His nose, which she had punched when she was younger, his pink from the sleep cheeks ending at his jaw line, which was now relaxed and not tightened.
Red lips, gently touching at each other, as small laugh lines were accompanying them, making Hermione certain that he was a different man after all.
He sighed in his sleep and some long tufts fell from his messy now hair, all the way down his pink cheek.
She smiled at the way he was looking. It was the first time in her life that she has seen him without his hair being flawless, and combed backwards.
Without his wall of protection being raised up, so his feelings were not being able to get hurt. Without his cockiness blocking his real self from others to see.
She didn't know why it meant too much to her to see him like that – tranquil and at ease, but she felt a knot creating to her stomach making even her breathing difficult.
She lowered her gaze, all the way down to his naked torso, slightly visible under the blanket that was resting on his side.
The faded now scars on his pale skin from the spell Harry cast made her heart heavy. It really looked like he had been slashed by a sword.
He must have been in so much pain, especially when there were so deep cuts. A faded memory of Snape's robes filled with blood popped in her head, making her bite her lower lip.
She looked at his scars, the new tissue in every cut looked much softer and shiny. She remembered the words of Madam Pomfrey, saying that it could leave deeper scarring than anything else.
Well, she was not wrong, she thought wanting to extend her hand and run her fingertip between the lines of his body.
She frowned, noticing that she had seen him naked before, but this moment was the first time she actually seen them.
Maybe he was feeling insecure about it? Perhaps he hated and cover it up with magic? It wouldn't be odd if he did. She knew how much of narcissist was he.
How hard life was for him back then? she thought and she looked at his sleeping face again.
Sure, he had done some questionable things, but did that meant that it was his choice? She could remember Harry, coming home from Draco's private hearing, paler than white, telling her that he testified.
She couldn't remember now if she was mad at him for not telling her, but she remembered, trusting her with some horrifying details of his trail.
Even if Draco never spoke about the war, his mother or his trail, Hermione could hear him screaming in the middle of the night.
Whatever happened to him, whatever dark spell made him fear of his own dreams, it was as bad as her own experience.
Thinking about it now, she wanted to turn the time back to the days they hated each other, and help him. Help him have a choice.
A choice that someone took from his needy, helpless self, burned it down to ashes and threw it into the sea like it meant nothing to him.
No, she thought and she smiled at his sleeping face. Sometimes strong people born from the ashes of their fall. And he fell. And he rose.
She wouldn't change the way he was now for anything - he was someone else, someone who made something out of nothing.
Someone who rebuilt himself out of the likes of him and not anyone else - and Hermione liked that person now.
It felt intrigued enough to have him in his life - sometimes the nature of their relationship felt more of an idea than a reality, and she mostly blamed him.
She knew that she was starting to care about him long before she could understand it. Three months had passed since they started to work together.
Three months of speaking to each other on a regular basis, her enjoying some of the privileges of him, such as ordering the library for himself and actually getting it.
Or having some of the most wanted books in the Wizarding World first, and maybe sometimes enjoying greater than she could even think of, the depths of whatever conversation they were having.
She noticed that one day she was mad at him and then next thing she knew, she had a need to speak to him, or even see him.
She didn't know how to explain it, but it was something that was making her more aware of his presence, but especially when he wasn't around.
Hermione knew that some deeper feelings than care, interest and curiosity were making her wonder more and more about the wizard sleeping next to her.
And that scared her the most. Not because she was scared of her feelings, or him, or his past for that matter, but she was scared that maybe this all kindness was a way to apology for his earlier actions.
She lightly sighed, trying to leave these thoughts out of her head and embrace the moment she was witnessing.
It felt like it was the first time in her life that she wanted to do nothing more than laying there next to him.
She took a breath, taking in all of his body scent. That faint metallic scent, coming from his galleons, with a strong hint of parchment, mint and prestige.
That scent made her relax a little bit more if that was possible. She didn't know what made her come here that night, but she was happy she did.
Nothing naughty was on her mind the moment she walked to his room – she didn't even think of him seeing her like that, but she felt the need to be closer to him.
She was feeling stronger whenever she was standing next to him. Stronger and powerful. Something that she never felt before with any other wizard.
He sighed in his sleep again and made himself more comfortable as he moved a bit closer to her. Now his elbow was resting on the bed too. Once again, she didn't move.
She watched him, wondering why she was feeling so familiar with his touch, why wasn't she scared of her feelings for him, why she wasn't afraid.
She rolled to her side closing the distance between them even more. She felt his hand moving upwards, pulling up her t-shirt revealing some of her flesh.
Feeling his palm to her waist, his fingertips on her back burning her exposed flesh, she looked at him, and not knowing why, she smiled.
She stood there, fighting with herself by accepting or ignoring her feelings. She felt his thump caress her side, like he sensed that she was pressuring her mind for an answer.
At once an electricity wave shivered her whole body. Her eyes widen – she had never felt like that before. She looked at the man sleeping next to her and relaxed her body completely.
Perhaps it wasn't a feeling of attraction, but only the feeling of wonder and excitement of the new person who walked into her life.
She opened her eyes the moment she smelled the fresh pancakes. Her stomach made a sound like it was alive. That was normal, she did eat too little the night before.
She sat on the bed, realizing that she had woken up to his side. She looked at herself, her white skin against the dark sheets.
She looked around her to see that she was indeed alone in the master bedroom. She felt relieved that he wasn't there when she woke up.
She wouldn't know what to do, or what to say. She felt her heart beating faster than before. Would he be his cocky self, or would he be different? she thought and she sighed.
And why would he be different? She did nothing wrong - she was sad and she wanted some company. She didn't propositioned herself to him.
She covered her face with her hands feeling frustrating. Why was she overthinking it so much?
She stood still, trying to hear if someone was in the house. If he was there it would make it harder for her to face him.
Some moments only passed when she thought that she was being silly, and she stood up from his bed looking at her bare feet.
If he wanted to think the worst of her when she lay down next to him, needed his presence to sleep, be it.
She waved her hand to the blanket to fold and she took a sweater she found on the chair next to the mirror.
The door to his room was wide open and she put her hair in a messy bun and walked to the hall, following the smell of the fresh pancakes.
When she reached the kitchen, the picture she witnessed made her frowned. She wasn't alone in his house as she was hoping for.
There he was, his silver blonde hair once again perfectly combed, his body dressed up with a black shirt buckled in his black trousers, and the sleeves up to his elbows, as he was making pancakes.
She stood there for a while, liking the sight of him making something from scratch. She smiled to herself, but he turned around and she panicked.
He looked at her for a while, wearing his sweater on her small body and looking at him surprised. He frowned and then smirked at her.
''Are you going to stand there for much longer?'' he asked her and she crossed her arms under her chest.
She walked towards him, his eyes never leaving her face. She was feeling her heart beating fast and sat at the table looking at him as well.
''There you go Mrs Granger, a very well carefully cooked breakfast for you.'' he said and put in front of her the plate he was holding.
''You made this?'' she asked, raising a brow at him, remembering the conversation she had with his mother's elf.
''Well of course and I did. I confessed to you my ability to prepare a meal, but your Muggle arrogance did not believe me now did it.'' he said breathing in prideful.
He took his Daily Prophet and he looked at her. She wanted to smile for some reason, but she didn't let herself do that. She was just staring at him like she did last night.
''What?'' he asked, amused, ''No elf had been hired for the proses Granger.'' he said and he watched her lips curled into a small smile.
He watched her taking her fork and knife in one hand, and putting honey on her pancakes. She looked pleased with the amount of food and she ate her first bite.
He was waiting to hear her approval, or even some kind of facial expression to make him feel prouder than he already felt, but she only sat there and ate peacefully.
He should have known that she wouldn't say much to him today, and he didn't mind. He knew that she wouldn't like to discuss what happened last night.
Neither would he - he woke up with her being too close to him, with his hand on her waist, making it impossible for him to move away from her once again.
And when he finally managed to move, she let out a small voice of protesting, making his heart miss a beat.
He cleared his throat and looked at her, she wasn't speaking much - the only thing that she did, was eating and every now and then agreeing to his comments on the Prophet's articles.
When she finished her breakfast, she looked at him, then the empty plate in front of her and then him again. She smiled and he smiled back.
''Is this the only thing you can do?'' she asked and he narrowed his eyes to her.
''Honestly? I prepared for you this lovely breakfast and you insult me with your suggestions about my abilities?'' he said, putting the hand he used to touch her on his sleep to his chest and tried to look offended.
''So is it?'' she asked, amused, on her lips was playing a small smile.
''Of course and it is Granger. I am a Malfoy. Feel blessed for what you have.'' he said and pointed at his body making her laugh.
''Is that what every other witch gets from you after you slept with her?'' she asked out of the blue taking even herself off guard.
He looked at her eyes, examining them for a while, as he was trying to understand where this was coming from.
She was looking surprised with herself when she said it, and she had blushed, making Draco thought that she was more than adorable at that moment.
''I do not allow women to sleep with me Granger.'' he said with a serious face.
''Why?'' she asked with her breath caught up her chest.
She was looking at him, trying to see if he will open up to her or not. She could see that he was strangling with himself to either tell her or not.
''I have never met a single person in this blue, miserable life that shared the same amount of pain and defeat as I did growing up.'' he said after a while and he looked at her.
He could see the agreement in her eyes. He could see that she knew what he meant by that – and he was pleased that she did.
He watched her nodding at his words and she looked at him sighing. He cleared his throat and took a sip from his tea.
''I will meet The Parkinsons in an hour.'' he said looking at her.
''You will?'' she asked, surprised and he nodded.
She was so sad last night that she had forgotten about his date with his old classmate's family. She opened her mouth to speak, but he looked at her disapproving.
''It won't take long Granger.'' he said and she nodded again.
By the time he was about to leave, Hermione made sure to inform him of every question she wanted an answer to – and Draco was making sure she let out every idea her Gryffindor mind could get.
Draco watched at his childhood friend as he was leaning on the door frame. He was smiling to her, but she was too busy giving orders to the women preparing her wedding dress.
Her face was radiant and she had a light pink shade painted on her cheeks. Someone could see that she was feeling out of her waters.
If he only had that camera thing Granger had spoken fondly about. He would keep teasing her for years.
He laughed in his head, watching at her anxious movements of her hands playing in the air like she was a maestro. She clearly didn't like the length of that thing.
What was wrong with every friend, he had from school and marriage? Have they all lost their damn minds? What was good about it?
Spending a lifetime with only one person sounded boring to Draco's ears. Boring and unavailing to say the least.
Remembering the silly wedding his best mate had, Draco wondered if he was right when he told him that he found the one.
And how would he suppose to know if he did find the one? Such a trouble, he thought and he met her eyes through the mirror in front of her.
''Drake!'' Pansy yelled when she saw him.
''I hate when you call me that.'' he said, rolling his eyes and entering the room.
He watched the young witch taking the dress off her body and running towards him with an unknown joy that could easily fill the room with warmth.
She put her hands around his neck, holding him tight and she sighed when his arms curled around her waist.
''How long has it been?'' she asked after they broke their hug.
''Too long I am afraid.'' he said and looked at her happy face.
She looked at him with love and care that could almost remind him his mother, and he gently rose his brows.
She looked at her, her silky black hair was longer than the last time he saw her, and he was sure that she lost weight because of her excitement.
He put some black locks away from her face and he lean forward to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.
''Can't I focus on something else than the gang and you all decide to settle down?'' he asked her and she blushed.
''Well, it was not entirely your fault – Blaise started it long before you focus on something else.'' she winked at him, ''Blame him.'' she said smirking.
''You looked beautiful.'' he complimented her, seeing the way her cheeks fired up again.
She gave him a small smile, looking at the way his eyes held a fiery gaze and not a coldly troubled stare.
Something had changed in his life and Pansy knew it - he was much calmer than the last time they met. She put her hand to his.
''I am so happy you are here.'' she said with a small relief in her eyes.
''I had to be. You are taking Nott into marriage - on purpose for Merlin's beard. I had to check on your mentality.'' he smirked looking at the wedding dress floating in front of the mirror.
''You are an arsehole.'' she said, laughing and pushed him on the shoulder.
She looked at him with care and she started to walk to the velvet sofa with him following her. She could hear the small protests, but chose not to listen.
She waved at the women fixing her dress to leave, and turned her head to him, looking at his gentle now features and she smiled with a small frown.
Draco frowned, looking at the way her eyes were examining his face and he cleared his throat, fearing that she might see right through him.
Maybe greeting her, was not a good idea after all, he questioned himself and looked at his hands between his legs.
''I brought you a - ''
''How are you Draco?'' she asked, not wanting to hear whatever he had to say.
He smiled at her. She was only calling him Draco when she needed to ask difficult questions. He sighed and looked at the witch he came to know from a young age.
She looked much happier and beautiful than before - she looked calm and loveable. She looked like she had lost a burden of her life.
He took her hand into his, kissing it gently and smiling to her once again. There were not words to express his internal gratitude.
They have shared a history, long before everyone else walked in his miserable life. Even if he was distanced and moody all the time, she had always found a way to make him talk.
Sometimes he was mad, either he was upset or even sad, but she always found a way to make him feel better - even if she was just sitting next to him, saying nothing.
Draco needed that in his life - he needed a friend like her, and she knew. She knew that sometimes he needed a small push, because his cowardness could easily overtake him.
''I am alright.'' he said, nodding after a while.
She looked at him waiting to hear what else he had to say. She encouraged him with a nod and an awkward laugh escaped from his lips, making her frowned.
''I had been busy, still am, mind you.'' he said with a husky voice, but then his face fell.
''I was intentionally doing that so I don't have to..''
''Think?'' she finished his sentence looking the way he was strangling to find a word.
''Remember.'' he said, frowning a bit and she gave him a small smile.
''Memories can be tough Draco.'' she said and she put her hands on top of his.
She gave it a small squeeze and looked at the way his eyes lost contact with hers. She took her hand back, not wanting to make him feel cornered.
She waited for some time, wondering about what could be on his mind. He looked different in her eyes at that moment. As if he had grown more - not only physically, but mentally as well.
''I can't find a way to make them stop coming back Pansy.'' he confessed with a small voice and she nodded understanding. ''There are nights that I wake up screaming.''
He confessed and looked at her. She nodded, knowing how difficult it was for him to leave some dark days of his past fade away.
Memories of him isolating himself for weeks popped into her mind and she took a big breath, not wanting to remember how depressed he was back then.
''You have to help yourself Draco.'' she said with a soft voice.
''What is that suppose to mean?'' he asked with a snort.
''You need to sort things out with yourself. Have peace with what keeps you up.'' she smiled looking at his eyes.
''It is not that easy.'' he admitted taking his eyes away from her.
''It doesn't have to be. We all make mistakes, but it is up to us how we will let them affect us.'' she said, putting her hand under his chin and turning his head to look at him.
He looked at her with sadness and she took her hand off his face. She sighed and smiled at him, thinking that he might need a push to make him think of himself.
''I stopped screaming when I found Theo.'' she said to him smiling and he laughed.
''What a keeper.'' he said and she laughed too.
''What I want to say you git, is that he was there when I was trying to heal my own wounds.''
''You mean love.'' he said and rolled his eyes.
He took his eyes away from her trying to think useless information about Quidditch or the Ministry, so his mind wouldn't bring the memory of her.
He tightened his jaw and Pansy's eyes saw it at once. She took a big breath, knowing that it was not something that made him feel comfortable.
It was not in his nature to discuss about emotions, or lust, or love, or any other feeling that could make him look weak.
''There is someone who is going to love you for the person that you are Draco, not the person you were.'' she said and she smiled to him.
He wanted to believe that. He wanted to be the person who would let love come into his life and quell him.
But he was afraid. Afraid of what love could do to him – and if he deserved it at this point in his life.
Because he could feel Hermione coming closer and closer to him – and the part that scared him the most was that he was letting her.
He had been hurt by so many people in the past, that he had learned to keep his distance for whatever trophy came in his way.
But with Hermione, it was different. He was feeling like she was making him opened up to her like a fucking peonie.
Him, who make her life a living hell all the way back to their Hogwarts years, who sat and watch his aunt playing with her like she nothing.
At once, guilt filled his body and he embraced it like they were old friends. He knew that she would not allow any type of feeling bond them greater.
And why would she, he was the one that called her names and made her cry - he was the one that let her down in so many ways.
He looked at his old friend, eyes full of hurt made her frowned and tried to reach his hand, but he took it off his leg and awkwardly fixed his right cufflink.
''Well, you know that I love talking about my not narcissistic self, but I do have an appointment with your father.'' he said looking away from her.
''My father?'' she asked with a laugh and he nodded. ''Why for?'' she asked again surprised.
''Ministry clarifications.'' he said and he stood up buttoning his suit.
He smiled to her, took her hand into his, lift her up from the sofa and kissed it gently. She nodded her head for his show like they used to do when they were in formal balls and he laughed.
''What ever busy agenda you had made for yourself keep it. It suits you better than the old one.'' she winked at him and he frowned.
He knew that she could see right through him - he cursed himself and he took a step aside, allowing her to walk in front of the mirror.
She put her dress on, and looked her reflection, liking the way it fit her body. She was truly happy and he liked that - she deserved happiness.
He walked to the door, but his feet stopped him. He looked down for a second, battling with himself and the question that was troubling his mind.
He then turned around to see her smiling face looking at him as well as if she knew that he wanted something.
''Do you believe that people can change?'' he asked and she smiled like she had waited for this question her whole life.
''When we talk for strong people like you, always.'' she said and gave him a kind smile.
''Last time a Malfoy set foot in my office, we were about to have a war.'' Mr Parkinson was standing in the opened door of his office and looking at Draco's proud body standing still in front of his bookcase.
He turned around to see the curious face of Hector Parkinson, who walked inside the room, closing the door behind him as if someone might bother to disturb them.
He walked towards his desk, a heavy vintage furniture that Draco knew where he bought it from, and looked at the way his eyes seemed tired.
''I can assure you this is not the case here, sir.'' Draco said, shaking Mr Parkinson's hand and sitting on the chair he was pointing.
''Some of the older wizards saying that you grew to be better than your father.'' he said to Draco looking at him like he was his own son.
He smirked, looking at the proud gaze of the old wizard in front of him. He tightened his jaw starting to feel bad for what was about to follow.
Draco knew the Parkinsons from a young age - often he would hear his father pointing out Pansy to be his daughter-in-law.
He waned to laugh at that memory, thinking of what plans life had for him. The distant sound of liquid pouring into a glass made him look at him frowned.
Hector raised the glass in front of him asking if he wanted one. ''No, sir, thank you.'' he said his brows still frowned. It was too early in the morning to drink.
Noticing him now, he could see that the once proud body of him was now stiff and seemed rather exhausted under the morning light.
''Well, I am sure they knew him better than me.'' Draco said at last and heard him snorting.
He watched him walking back to his desk and sitting in his chair, his eyes never leaving Draco's. He took a big breath, feeling the need to run away.
''To what do I own the presence Mr Malfoy?'' Mr Parkinson asked him, looking at the way his gaze wanted to escape his.
Hector watched him turning his head to his left where a big family portrait decorated his office. He narrowed his eyes, starting to have a weird feeling in his stomach.
''That is a lovely painting, Mr Parkinson.'' Draco said admiring the canvas.
''My life only has meaning for them.'' he said with a cold smile that sent a shiver all the down to Draco's spine.
Perhaps talking him about Nehone was not a good idea - he knew how close the Parkinson family was. He could still remember the way Pansy was crying when she heard that her parents were in Azkaban.
Or how devastated they both were when they lost her for good. Draco felt his heart beating fast. He could not think of losing anyone - not even Hermione.
''Were they only two?'' he gingerly asked, waiting to see if he would talk about something regarding his family.
''After Jasmine death, I had never allowed myself to love another woman.'' he said and he put himself another glass of firewhiskey.
''Would be better if Pansy had a sister don't you agree?'' he asked and he watched the gaze on Mr Parkinson face changed to horror.
''What do you want Malfoy?'' he coldly asked and looked at the young wizard sitting opposite from him.
Draco took a big breath, Hermione's face popping in his mind, remembering that he was doing that for her and his hand reached the inner pocket of his blazer.
He took out a tine black folder with a gold ribbon in the middle. He spoke something under his breath and the folder returned to its normal size.
Carefully and without losing any time, he untied the ribbon, and the beige folder with the word classified appeare in his hands.
Draco opened it wide in front of the surprised eyes of Hector who's breathing started to go in and out rather hard.
He looked at the opened file, on the left page the names of the women he killed and on the right the photo of Damien Nehone.
Reminding himself what he was about to do, Draco took a big breath, feeling the fear from Hector's gaze rising uncontrollably and stood up from his seat.
He placed the folder in front of him and he watched on the way his eyes looked at him - he knew, he knew why he was here.
The already harden features on his face harden even more, making him look older than he was. He slowly lowered his gaze and then raising it fast.
Draco watched his jaw tighten - his left hand was placed on top of the names of the women, like he wanted to hide the name of his daughter.
He started to feel his pain and his hurt, as his hand slowly turned into a fist, holding the parchment with the victims inside.
Furious black eyes were now looking at Draco as if they wanted to tear him apart. He took a step back, not liking the feeling he had in his guts.
''What the hell is that Malfoy!'' he said, tossing the paper ball to his face and the whole folder to his torso.
Draco's eyes fell to the floor as all the papers were now spread around him. ''I have some questions - ''
''Questions? You have questions?'' he yelled at him standing up.
''Mr Parkinson please - ''
''I was right thinking your coming here was a bad augury.'' he said and he drank his whole firewhiskey.
With a sudden move, he threw the glass he was holding on the wall near the portrait of his family breaking it.
Draco didn't even flinch. He looked at the man in front of him, his hand slightly shaking as his eyes were no longer being able to look at the smiling faces of the women in the portrait.
He felt sorry for him - he felt like he had torn his heart again. He wondered if he would feel the same if something similar happens to him.
At once his mind brought up the smiling face of Hermione - he had a goal here, and he needed to finish it. Having something bad happening to her was not an option.
''Sir, please you have to - ''
Mr Parkinson pointed his index to his face. ''I am not going to let you wake up a monster that should be already dead.'' he coldly said.
''The monster has already been woken up, sir.'' Draco said, looking at the million pieces of the broken glass on the floor.
That was like Mr Parkinson's heart. Million of pieces that sewed back together after so many years.
He looked at the old wizard staring at him furiously, his chest rising and falling fast, waiting for Draco to tell him he was lying.
He had this blank stare as if the words that Draco spoke were a spell that made him unable to understand.
''I am sorry, sir.'' he said looking at him.
''You are sorry?'' he said a snort escaped his lips. ''You have no idea what you are facing here.'' he added after some time.
He watched him sitting back in his chair, his body falling like it was motionless, his eyes stuck at the emptiness in front of him.
''A person that I care about is in danger because of him. I demand your help!'' he said, taking a step towards him feeling his own anger growing.
He rose his eyes to Draco and he smirked with a way that reminded him his father. He heard him laughing.
''Dead is what she is Malfoy.'' he yelled and looked at him, raising his shoulders like it would be the most normal thing.
''Forget her.'' he said with an apathy that made Draco feel his anger reaching his own levels.
''Soon or later, his claws will wrap her good - but who knows? Perhaps he will spare her his time and make her take her own life.'' he said raising a brow.
''That could please him, seeing his victims cutting themselves, hanging, yell for help as he quells their minds is what makes him who he is.''
Draco's eyes had stuck to the photo in front of his feet - the wicked eyes of Nehone meeting his, the smirk he gave to the camera started to print in his mind.
It felt like there was more in the photo - was that Hermione in the back? Her lifeless body on the floor of Wizengamort with Nehone sitting in front of her drinking tea next to her body.
He turned his face to see Draco, as if he knew he was watching them - thank you, he read his lips and at once he felt his heart beat fasten.
''That is not true.'' he whispered to him and push his nails to his palm, closing his eyes and feeling the physical pain pleasant.
He opened his eyes and he saw the wicked eyes of Nehone staring back at him - that was in my mind, only in my mind, he thought and pushed his nails more.
She is safe, he said to himself, looking at the man in front of him who had his face covered by his big hands - for now, he thought and tighten his jaw.
Draco could feel his knees betraying him. It was an hallucination, nothing more, he said to himself scratching painfully his palm.
He looked at the man in front of him again. He was feeling like someone had told him his future - her future. He couldn't end up like Hector could he?
He could allow to be broken and lost, filled with memories of a person that could have done more to protect.
''No.'' he snapped looking at the old man raising his head and looking at him as well.
''No!'' he repeated, taking a step forward and stepping on top of Nehone's photo.
He turned his hand into a fist, feeling his temper rising, as the fear of something happening to her found an excuse to his troubled mind.
It made him freeze for a second as the thought of her meaning much more than he allowed himself to see fit like a glove to his heart.
''That can not happen to her!'' he said with eyes looking away from the old wizard. ''It simply can't!'' he spoke, realizing again what he was missing all this time.
Hector looked at the way his eyes losing focus, knowing that he might have never truly thought what he was up against and stood up.
He walked towards him and stood in front of him, feeling his pain covering with the room with a blue aura.
''You have to help me. You have to tell me what to do!'' Draco said with a breaking voice.
Hector looked at him - the need of a father written all over his face as small pieces of defeat paint his face red.
''Son.'' he said, looking at him.
''If his eyes have seen the life of hers, as much as you are going to protect her, as much as you treasure her moments next to you, he will take her life as he did to my Lorry.'' he said with his eyes wet.
His hand grabbed his wand and waved it to the family painting. At once the picture and the colors changed. The dark colors gave their place to cheerful shades of red, white and yellow and green.
Mr and Mrs Parkinson were sitting on a leather sofa, their hands threaded together. Next to Mrs Parkinson, there was a three year old Pansy.
On the other side of the portrait next to Mr Parkinson, who had started to cry at the moment his eyes landed on the girl next to him, Draco saw Lorran Parkinson.
A woman with porcelain skin, heavy long curls and petite body was smiling, looking rather happy surrounded by her family.
She looked just like Hermione. Fragile. Small. Powerful. He looked at the man sodding. He had hidden his face in his hands.
Draco turned his gaze to him and put a hand on his shoulder, looking back at Pansy's sister who had the kindest eyes.
''If a chance land to your feet, do not hesitate and spoke the curse.'' he advised him as new tears ran down his cheeks.
Draco found the new Wizarding Art Museum to be much tackier than he thought – but who was he to judge of something his mother made.
He was waiting for her at one of the freshly painted rooms of the museum for the past half an hour trying to relax himself of the thoughts that was currently on his mind.
Around him there were only some paintings to keep him company. He needed that. He needed to be alone and think about what happened.
The truth was that he was shaking with fear the moment he walked out of the Parkinson Manson and the only thing that was stuck in his mind was his advice.
Draco was not a fool. He knew what great danger she was into, but he knew he would do anything to protect her.
He had to protect her. That was what he had signed for – her safety. And that's what he will offer her. Even if that meant to kill that man with his bare hands.
He was a different man when it came to danger. He was blaming his days as a Death Eater for that. He learned to be ruthless because of his cowardice.
He could keenly feel the danger coming to their way. He could feel that they were coming closer and closer to a joint path with Nehone.
Maybe the old wizard, he came to know as he was growing up was right. Maybe that time it will be up to him to finish it once and for all.
He couldn't trust Kingsley or Hermione and risked everything by putting him back to Azkaban and wish he would not escape this time.
Into his mind had stuck the sense of fear he felt the moment, Mr Parkinson told him that she would die. He will not let that happened. He should finish it once and for all.
''Draco.'' his mother's voice made him snapped out of his thoughts.
He looked at his hand – it turned into a tight fist, something that he always did when he was mad or scared.
He relaxed his hand and cleared his throat. He fixed his blazer and turned to see the woman standing behind him.
''Is this how you want to see your mother? Once every other month?'' she asked, extending her hand caressing his cheek.
''If that's your wish.'' he said, sighing and her hand fell.
She only gave him a small smile and awkwardly put her hands together in front of her. She looked at him, like it was the first time she had seen him.
''My wish is to have my son back, not a one hour visit.'' she complained with her sad smile still on her lips.
''Well, you did lose half of it as I was waiting.'' he said, looking at his feet, but he could feel her heart breaking.
He regretted it the moment he said it, but his mind was not in its place at the moment. He was still feeling his hands shaking and his thoughts were on Hermione.
''This is what I have to offer at the moment mother.'' he said and looked at her putting his hand on his trousers' pockets.
He watched his mother nodding and putting her robes on. He noticed that she had lost weight since the last time he saw her.
She was holding something like a folder made of leather which reminded him one of Hermione's lady bags. He frowned at the sight, but chose to say nothing.
''I have made a lunch reservation for us at The Sober Dwarf.'' she said and she turned around to leave but Draco's eyes caught up in something.
Behind his mother there was a painting he had seen before. It was the first painting his mother took to the museum.
He frowned and walked towards the painting passing by his mother who was calling his name wanted to protect him for what was about to follow.
He walked in front of it and he felt his heart being cut in two. At once his body knew that something was about to happen even if it was not real.
His hands turned into fist, as his nails started again to scratch the surface of his palms. He knew that his feelings will start to change in any second.
His eyes fell on the surface of the painting, examining it. It was a dark canvas, with black background. In the middle there was a man, his naked torso slightly leaning to the right.
The arms of the man were cut off and its stomach and chest had small black scratches at the places where the muscles were. Anyone could sense the powerfulness of the body.
His eyes traveled up to his head. There were no hair, forehead not even a mouth. Only black eyes, being drawn like someone had ripped them off.
Draco stared at the picture for some more seconds trying to realize what was its purpose. He could feel his spine shivering at the sight of it.
Suddenly the image changed – the man disappeared and its place took hundreds birds flying away from a black sky.
Draco took a step back, feeling the horror of the painting overflowed him. A feeling of pain, fear, loneliness, as well as emptiness took him over.
He felt his mother's hand on his back and he snapped out of the delirious, he was letting himself being drown.
''It is enchanted to feel every emotion Mrs Nehone had when she lost her son.'' she said and Draco nodded.
He looked at his hands were small drops of blood were on his palms. He blew them and the small cuts healed at once.
''Who?'' he asked when he realized what his mother said and turned around to see her.
''Mrs Nehone.'' she said, meeting the confusing gaze of her son.
''The first female artist in our world. She was promising enough, but no one gave her a fair chance. It was a wizard's world.'' she looked at the painting, and then her son.
''I am sorry, when did that happened?'' he asked still confused.
''Long before your time. You were ten when she gave us her work to save. She was old and sick, and after she lost her son.. well, it was not pleasant.''
He looked at his mother with a shocked face he didn't know he was able to make. He knew he had heard that name before.
''Is everything alright Draco?'' she asked when she didn't take a word for an answer.
''Always. Shall we have lunch?'' he asked and took his mother's hand on his arm.
He gave one last good look at the painting and he left the room. That was something new. That was something great. He couldn't wait to see Hermione now.
Hermione looked at the clock behind her and it was almost five in the afternoon. She sighed and stood up, leaving the book she was reading on the sofa.
She stretched her arms and walked to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. He was gone for the past six hours, which gave her the time she needed to think.
Something that she shouldn't have done because, she promised herself that she wouldn't cry for her ex boyfriend's stupidity.
She promised herself that she wouldn't have to save him this time. She was done protecting everyone than herself.
She was done thinking of everyone else than her. That was something that was always defined her – she was caring.
She was caring so much for all the persons in her life that she loved, and made herself the second option.
But this time, Ron's actions were something that she couldn't fix. She was in danger and it was beyond her power to clear up a mess that could have her killed.
Sure Wizengamot was not the best decision, and certainly the idea of him into that room was making her sad, but her hands were tied.
That was what he said in her letter she sent to Harry this morning when Draco left. She explained that she couldn't do much at the moment.
She hoped to Merlin he would understand. She hoped that the Weasley's would understand too, and kept an opened mind.
The noise from the boiling water made her look at the mug she was holding. She let it down and added some water.
The smell of the peppermint tea made her smile a little. She noticed that she had put too much water on her mug when she held it.
She was about to turn around and go back to her book on the sofa, still looking at the mug when a gasp made her jump a little and some water burned her hand.
She let the mug on the table and looked behind, the shocked face of Pansy Parkinson looking at her, straight into her eyes.
''What on Merlin's hell are you doing here?'' she asked, taking some steps towards Hermione, taking her wand out and pointing at her.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak once too many times but no words came out. She could see the confusion on her face.
The same face Harry had when he saw her with Draco the day before. She wasn't moving. She was feeling her brain numbed.
Pansy's eyes looked her up and down, seeing his sweater on her and making her frowned even more. She had turned pale, but Hermione couldn't think of anything to say.
She could see that she was speaking to her, but her ears were blowing. She didn't know why she felt like that.
''He offered me a safe house.'' was the only thing that she could think at the moment.
''A safe house?'' she asked with her brows still frowned. ''Weasley King threats to marry you?'' she asked sarcastically her wand still pointing at her.
''No, I am not with Ron anymore, I - ''
''So you take your revenge by bagging your childhood enemy?''
''I am not bagging anyone! I wanted a shelter and Malfoy gave me one!'' she told her and looked down her hand which it was hurting from the burn.
''What would you, from all the people need a shelter?''
''It is something that's better left unsaid.'' Hermione said narrowing her eyes.
''Where is Draco, Granger?'' she asked her after some time of staring at her.
''I don't know. He wanted to see your father.''
''That he did. That's the reason I am ruining your honeymoon.''
''What have you not understood?'' she asked, throwing her hands into the air.
She walked passed her to go and find her wand to heal herself, but Pansy put her own wand aside and grabbed her arm.
''My father was drunk in the middle of daylight and he was mumbling things that he should have forgotten by now.'' she said with narrowed eyes.
Hermione took her hand back and looked at her dangerously trying to mimic Draco's gaze when he was mad.
''There are much more important things than - ''
''Is your father alright Pansy?'' Draco asked and she turned around at once to look at him.
Hermione took a step back and watched them looking at each other. She started to feel weird at the picture she was witnessing.
Pansy's eyes were full of rage and hurt, something that she had never seen before. He took his blazer off never losing eye contact with her and he threw it on the sofa.
He opened his mouth to speak, but out of the blue Pansy slapped him, making Hermione gasped a little and took some steps back.
Draco didn't say anything but looked at his feet for a while and then back at her like nothing happened.
She started to hit him, multiple times, sometimes at his chest or arms and sometimes on his face, but once again Draco stood still.
Hermione had covered her mouth with her hand not knowing what to do to make her stop and think reasonable.
Pansy started to cry as she was hitting him and she stopped letting her arms fell to her sides. She was trying hard to take breaths now and Draco took her into his hands and hold her tight.
Hermione's heart broke at her sight, as her sobbing became louder and louder until she let it all out and just stood there.
Hermione watched Draco's face being completely expressionless as he was holding the young witch, looking in front of him, blankly.
''Thank you.'' Pansy said to Hermione when she offered her some tea.
She looked at her, her eyes red and her cheeks pink, covered in a blanket she had brought to her from her room.
She was sitting in the big armchair, her legs at her side, with Draco sitting opposite from her and looked at her concerned.
Hermione walked to the sofa as well and sat a bit afar from them, seeing Pansy completely but only Draco's back.
''I am sorry Draco.'' she said after some good sips of her tea. ''I really am.'' she said and she felt a tear ran down her cheek.
''I didn't mean to make your father remember your lost, I just..'' he sighed, trying to forget what the man told him, but failed, ''..I just wanted his help.'' he said looking at her and she nodded.
''Well, in two days will be twenty years without her so..'' she said with her voice breaking.
Hermione felt bad for her. She watched her sitting there, looking like a broken doll, her eyes not even daring to look at Draco.
Yes, she felt bad for her. Because she knew what was like to lose something. She almost lost her parents too.
''Pansy, Granger is - .''
''I know. I knew it the moment safe house came out of your lips.'' she said and she met Hermione's eyes for the first time.
Hermione nodded and bit her lip. She looked at her hand, the burning spot started to feel numbed now, but the reddish was still there. She wanted to heal herself but she didn't want to leave.
''I didn't know if it was wise telling you or not. I was thinking that I should protect you from something that you were not part of.'' she said when she met her eyes again.
''I am sorry for what I said earlier..'' she said and her eyes looked at the kitchen remembering her words.
''It's alright, I - ''
''I never hated you, you know. Not truly at least.'' she said and she looked at Hermione in the eyes. ''I had forgotten how she looked like until I saw you at Hogwarts.''
Pansy said with a small smile and some tears reappearing on her cheeks. She tightened her hold around her mug.
''There were times that I would stare at you, admiring the way you two were look alike. I can still see her in you.'' she said and made Hermione's eyes watery too, and looked at her feet.
''What happened to her?'' Draco asked and Hermione's jaw fell open.
''She had just finished Hogwarts and wanted to be a healer. She had big dreams.'' she said with a sad smile.
''She came home one day with him. He was older than her, but yet, he had a sparkle in his eyes that I have never seen on another wizard.''
''You remember him?'' Draco asked and she nodded.
''He promised her a wedding, a big life, a house for of children.'' she looked at her feet and then at Hermione.
''He promised her a life she had never thought. That should make us realize that something was wrong. But it didn't.''
''Did he marry her?'' he asked and she snorted.
''No. At first she started to ask my father for her dowry's galleons. My father gave them to her. Then they never showed up for Sunday's dinner. Then she wasn't even answering my owls.''
She wasn't taking her eyes off Hermione's making her feel uncomfortable, but yet a feeling of those words being familiar curled around her brain like a scarf.
Inside of Pansy's eyes Hermione could easily see the pain and the lost she had experienced in her life.
''One day, my father wanted to see her, so he apparated to their house without a notice. He found her laying down on the bedroom's bed, holding a rose to her chest. They were staying in that house for four months – she was dead for three months.'' she said taking her eyes away from Hermione.
Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to show any emotions. She was taking big breaths and feeling her spine shivering.
She was looking at her feet. No one ever knew what he was doing to those women. None of the families ever spoke about it.
Thinking about it now, it would be for the best. If she knew what kind of twisted mind, he had perhaps they wouldn't arrest him in the first place.
''Could your father - ''
''No Draco. Do not make him remember this time of his life again.'' she said and looked at him dangerously.
''I am not going to ask how you two got involved with it, or how he escaped in that matter, I only ask you to keep your eyes open, and with the first chance kill him Draco. Do not hesitate.'' she said coldly and looked at him in the eyes.
He could only agree to her request with a small nod – a request that he had promised himself do that earlier that same day.
''What did Mr Parkinson said?'' Hermione asked, breaking the silence among them.
''We can talk later about it.'' he said not looking at her, his head resting on his hand.
''I want to know now.'' she demanded with a small voice making his heart break into a million pieces.
He couldn't look at her. He was afraid of his emotions being shown to her at that moment. He was scared, even the idea of her being dead made him lose his mind for a second.
''Not now.'' he said after some time and Pansy looked at him understanding that he was being cornered.
She tried to make eye contact with Hermione to tell her to leave him alone, but her eyes were rested on his muscular back inside his black shirt.
''Why is it so hard for you to tell me now?'' she raised her voice a bit making him turn around to see her.
''Granger put at rest, your Gryffindor spirit and do not push me further with this one.''
''Haven't you listened to a word she said? How do you expect - ''
''It's because I have listened that I don't want to talk about it!'' he yelled making her lips slightly fell apart.
She looked at his stormy grey eyes being full of anger and fear that made her even more furious with his decision not to tell her.
She stood up, looked at him like he had just lost her trust on him and stormed out of the living room, leaving them alone, and closing her bedroom's door loudly.
''Just fucking great.'' he said hitting the empty seat next to him hard making a sound. Twice.
''Drake?'' Pansy asked him, looking at him with a slightly amused gaze. ''Do you have any idea what did just happen?''
''One would hope you stopped asking so much nonsense.''
''Oh Merlin you do!'' she said with a faded smile on her lips. ''I am telling everybody.''
Kingsley was wearing something that he had never wore before in the Wizarding World. It was something that Malfoy would wear, but not him.
He could never understand the fascination of young wizards about suits and shirts. For him it was only an attire for some Muggle event he had to visit.
But this day he made an exception. He wanted to look like he was not the Minister of Magic. He listened to Ron Weasley when he said about the Oz's pub at his hearing.
He wasn't sure if he believed him or not – he knew how well trained the Aurors well, so he had to do something and found the truth himself.
He thought that if his testimony was indeed correct and Theophile Stohard had managed to tricked him, could be used in his favor.
And that would be great, because the idea of him pulling a member of the Golden Trio at the Wizengamot was not an option.
He took a sip from his firewhiskey looking at the people around him. It wasn't a busy day and he was sitting alone in one of the tables.
With the corner of his eye, he saw that the barman was looking at him funny. He stood up, taking his drink with him and walking towards the bar.
He nodded to the young man in front of him and drank up his drink. The young wizard grabbed a bottle and poured him some more.
''Haven't seen you here before.'' he said and looked at Kingsley.
''I am not from around. I wanted a drink and people spoke highly of this place.'' he said and raised his glass like he was making a toast.
''Glad to hear that.'' he said and walked to the other side of the bar to see some other costumes.
Kingsley looked in front of him where a mirror was hanging from the wall. He looked himself – some new wrinkles around his eyes made him frown.
Life had passed by fast hadn't it? he asked himself and took another sip. He was feeling tired and had a rather big urge to run away.
Some people behind him made him turn around to see them. They were talking loud and stopped when they saw him. They didn't seem to recognize him, but they took the message.
He was glad about that. He was glad that he was feeling his old days as an Auror filled him up with excitement and adrenaline.
And he missed that. He missed it so much and he couldn't even say it to a single soul. It felt nice being back in the game.
''Hello mate.'' the barman said to the old man who had just sat two seats next to Kingsley.
''Hello Adam.'' the man greeted and looked at the bottles of firewhiskey behind the young man. ''Just the usual.'' he said after a while.
''Don't really like change?'' Kingsley asked and looked at the man holding his glass.
''Can anyone really do?'' he said and he raised his glass to him and Kingsley nodded agreeing.
''I am Theophile Stohard.'' he said, standing up and sitting next to Kingsley.
Kingsley smiled to himself cursing his luck and the Fairies who led him to him so easily. He nodded to the man he was looking for.
''I am Johnathan Smith.'' Kingsley said and looked at the man standing next to him nodding.
That would be a really nice evening after all.