LightofEvolution: Beta

In Dreams: Alpha

Me: Grateful

"Another one?"

Draco cocks his eyebrow at Granger as she shuffles back into her room. Her nose is buried in a copy of the prophet, and he can make out a partial headline of "eater Aided by Minis" which he takes to mean something along the lines of "Death Eater Aided by Ministry".

She looks up, a scowl still sitting on her pretty face. "The third," she confirms. "Harry says Skeeter isn't usually this obsessed, even with him. For some reason, though, she won't let this go."

"You look concerned," he notes with a frown. "I thought Potter said this wasn't anything to be worried about."

"He did," she says, and then corrects, "He does. He's not really worried per se, but he is… paying a bit more attention. This article… they are now officially theorizing it's you." It wasn't such a big stretch, he supposes, hardly surprised, to opine as to the identity of a Death Eater the Ministry might keep in hiding. Draco is the only one still at large who was a minor. That alone makes him a likely candidate.

"Afraid they'll lock me in Azkaban, love?" he asks with a fond smile. His witch has been endearingly protective. After the first article, she had filed an official request for Auror protection due to her "anonymous involvement in the ongoing investigation of the whereabouts of missing Death Eaters".

"Actually, I think we might have that confirmed as a non-issue. Kinsley assures Harry that whatever Dark Magic landed you where you are, you will not be tried for it since you are basically held against your will," she says. "I hadn't wanted to count on Shacklebolt's support, but as of this afternoon, after this new Prophet article, Harry gave the Minister enough information to feel him out on the matter. Surprisingly, he is being supportive, even at an official level."

Draco breathes a sigh of relief. He knows the corruption of, not just the Ministry, but the more in-general corruption of man. To know the highest single ranking official in the Ministry will not look to make him an example does much for his peace of mind. He certainly hadn't thought he deserved to be strung up for Dark magic he hadn't personally used, but you never know how the powers that be might interpret 'truth'.

"But," she goes on, and Draco listens well, "I'm not above some irrational fear of Riddle supporters looking to take out the last of the 'traitorous' Malfoy family either. I worry all the press will lead them to Harry and then to his home. There are a few particularly zealous and vicious Death Eaters unaccounted for."

"Who?" He's never really asked before, not sure he wanted to know. He knows his parents are gone, and he still struggles some days to accept it. Perhaps because he didn't have proper closure, but it's easy to imagine they are still out there somewhere, along with whoever Hermione is about to name.

"Yaxley," she ticks off one finger, "Dolohov," another digit, "and Rabastan, just to name a few."

"Goyle's father?" he asks.

"Deceased."

"Rudolphus?"

"Azkaban."

"Greyback?"

"Killed by Aurors."

Draco wracks his brain, trying to imagine the old crew who would want him dead the most. He knows Vince's father would do him in without hesitation, but has already been told the man is in Azkaban, neutered to no more than threatening letters that merely scream into the void.

He looks back at her, then, and sees a strain behind her eyes. "There's more," he accuses, sure she has something else up her dainty little eyelet-trimmed sleeve.

"There's… Harry keeps receiving anonymous letters. Seems to be… digging for information. And now, after this article, becoming more focused on your identity. Harry's afraid maybe the author has an unhealthy obsession with finding you."

"Potter says it's safe here though, yeah? He won't let anything happen to you, right?" Everything that Draco has left in this world is standing in front of him. Not even a green apple to his name, his fortune in a state of flux he can't guarantee he will see again, family gone, name tarnished forever… All he has, and all he even really wants, is this witch.

Perhaps that's presumptuous. Maybe his reliance on her is unfair and assuming, considering everything: Their brief 'relationship', if you can even call it that, based on lust for so long on her side, their history before the war, how little he has to offer her and how much of a hindrance he will potentially be. He truthfully has no right to expect anything from her, but, as his godfather so recently accused, he is an entitled little prick, and he wants Hermione to be his.

"As safe as anything can be," she agrees. "Nothing is fool proof. Even Hogwarts-" She stops and flushes, and Draco blushes right back in shame.

"Even Hogwarts was breached," he finishes, the corner of his mouth twisting in his discomfort.

"I'm sorry," she rushes to apologize. "I don't… I just didn't even think. I don't think about you like that, so it's so hard to forget. That Draco Malfoy… I didn't know him. Sometimes it's still hard to reconcile him with you."

Draco shrugs, trying not to let it sting. That was him, after all. He may have been doing something terrible, something he didn't want to do, but he still did it. And it's not so very long ago. Not in the grand scheme. He wants very much to say he would be different now; that he would make better choices. But could he? In that exact position, not knowing the fates of his parents, and truly believing he could save them?

Not even just that, but what if it was Hermione? What if he had to make a hard choice for her? Draco knows he is a slick Slytherin, all the way to his core, self-preservation and ambition always ruling the proverbial roost in his heart, but he has the capacity for great loyalty as well. Even that blasted hat, for just one split second, had started to mutter, "Huffle-" but with a particularly venomous thought from Draco, quickly changed to shout a bold and sure, "Slytherin!"

What lengths would he go for his witch? Probably far more than she would appreciate. He imagines she would give him an earful of equal parts, "you should always do the right thing," and, "I can take care of myself, thank you."

So, he grins, and answers after only a beat, "It's alright, Granger. Forget about that little git. He let fucking Potter beat him in a duel. I'm much more appealing now."

She laughs lightly, and it seems sincere. "He was very handsome though. Even I could never deny that."

"Did you think of me then, holed away in your tower? Did you ever think of me as you do now?"

He expects more laughter, a fierce denial, perhaps a speech about how ridiculous the thought would have been. At the very least, he anticipates a sexually driven quip, confident and bold.

Instead, she bites her lip around a slow and shy grin.

His own smile, much more honest than before, splits his face in response. "You did. Dear Merlin, you sexy little vixen, you thought of me."

"You were very handsome," she repeats, watching him for reaction.

"Can I tell you a secret, Hermione," he mock whispers and waits as she nods her head, cautious as ever. "I might have thought of you, too. Perhaps quite often."

She looks like she might say something, but Draco wants to offer her something real, not just return to their typical banter or let this moment pass. "I saw you once, down by the Black Lake. It was fifth year and you were reading, alone, just back from Hogsmeade. It was warm, and it was the first time I'd really seen you in muggle clothes. You wore a sundress that day."

He tilts his head, envisioning the moment as he retells the memory, for the first time, to anyone. This was a secret he never shared, kept selfishly only for himself: the beauty of Hermione Granger.

"The dress was blue and your arms were bare. I wasn't accustomed to that much skin, just for anyone to see. Your knees were bent and the skirt was puddled on your thighs, like you were sunning yourself. Your blasted cat was next to you, doing the same," he chuckles. "You had your hair down but it kept blowing against your cheeks, no matter how many times you tucked it behind your ear, grinning down at your book but huffing occasionally at your own curls. I'd never seen you like that before. Relaxed and happy. I thought you were the prettiest witch at school, and for the first time I could see it clearly. I've never forgotten it."

"I… I don't know what to say," she whispers back, obviously a little overwhelmed.

"You're even more beautiful now," he goes on, intent to say something that has been bothering him. "But I want you to know that this," he gestures between them, "is more than what you may think. More than… desperation or… whatever else anyone might accuse me of. I've been watching you longer than I should admit, Granger. This doesn't go away," he places his palm over his heart, indicating the way he feels, "once I'm out. Not even if you want it to."

Her eyes are wide, but she manages an answer anyway, shaking her head slowly. "I don't… I don't want it to go away. I had hoped it was more than that."

"More than I think I want to say out loud just now, from the other side of this mirror. I'll tell you more, when you can feel my breath on your skin."

She considers him, and he's horrified to see a glassy sheen in her eyes. He certainly hadn't meant to upset her. "I wish I knew when that would be," she laments.

He smiles a sad smile. "So do I, love. I have faith, though, in that regard. I have the smartest witch in wizarding Britain on the case, have I said? She's absolutely brilliant."

Hermione snorts, and he's happy to see a crinkle of amusement at the corner of her pretty eyes. "If she's so brilliant, one might think she'd have made progress by now. You've been here for months-"

"Well, to be fair," he interrupts, "you weren't really looking at first."

"That doesn't make me feel better," she chastises. "Just another way my supposed intellect failed us."

Us. That sounds quite nice, indeed.

"Anything with the library today?" Hermione has spent the last few days looking for more about his familiy's oubilette. An Unspeakable team is simultaneously trying to physically find and penetrate the room from the property at Essex. Unfortunately, she just shakes her head when he asks, and looks equal parts disappointed and guilty, always carrying the weight of the world on her dainty shoulders. No one thought this would be easy, and he's still flying high on the one break through they've had. It is disconcerting to not even know where you physically are in world. At least he can now envision himself, tucked beneath sandy soil, the ocean waves crashing not too far away.

"What of Severus," he wonders next. "Has he had any luck? Any of those professional contacts pan out?"

There's that tightness in her eyes again. If Draco does make it out of this mess, knock on wood, he's going to challenge her to that muggle strip poker he's heard about from Theo. She has no capacity for falsehoods, at least where he is concerned. "What is it? Dear Merlin, now what's happened?"

She purses her lips in annoyance. "How do you always know what I'm thinking?"

Draco chuckles, feeling increasing adoration creep upon him. "You're so transparent," he accuses with a laugh.

She sighs, but explains, "There have been more letters. Seems to be from that same author that is sending to Harry. But now… they're coming to Grimmauld too. Like the writer is zeroing in on Harry more personally, as more than just the Auror on the case."

The levity Draco had felt is abruptly sucked out of the room. "Hermione, I don't like this. Maybe… maybe you should… I don't know… I don't like the idea of you being alone. Going to the shop every day, no one there with you…."

"I refuse to indulge the whims of a coward who won't even sign his name to an untraceable parchment," she says, haughtily, her nose in the air. Merlin, she's so much like his mother…

"I'd just… I worry, when you're not here, Granger," he admits. Alright so, he hadn't really been too worried before all this Prophet business, mostly just bored, but now he will be worried, and the Slytherin in him thinks that's close enough to truth.

"Are you suggesting I can't defend myself," she asks, and this feels like very dangerous ground. Ground he has anticipated would be often walked while involved with her.

"I am absolutely not suggesting that you in particular cannot defend yourself in a reasonable way." He sees her cheeks go pink. He supposes it's a sign of the frustration before the storm, but he goes on, imploring. "Anyone can be hurt, Hermione. No one is always prepared, always ready. No one. Not Severus, not me, and not you, either. The Death Eaters you mentioned… they won't challenge you to a duel or start with defensive spells. They Crucio first and Avada while you're down." He squints his eyes closed, flooded with a few choice memories he would very much like to forget. Nameless muggles staring with blank dead eyes.

Draco's vivid imagination, both a blessing and curse, changes the nameless, faceless muggle into a soft face, fanned by chocolate curls, warm brown eyes gone cold.

"Draco?" He looks up at her and realizes he has frozen, eyes closed and fists clenched while she watches.

"Sorry. Just, please, I'd feel better if I knew you were safe. Can you at least try not to be at the shop alone? You have an employee for a reason. There should always be able to be two of you there, right?"

She's eyeing him, and he's not sure what she's looking for, but she seems to find it.

"I suppose that's a reasonable request."

His heart is infinitely lighter at that. He lets out a slow breath, trying to offset the panic he knows she can see in his eyes with a casual reply. "Thanks, Granger."

"You're welcome, Malfoy," she throws back with a knowing smile. "How I'm going to convince Severus to agree is beyond me…"

"Tell him it's a favor to me," he snorts. "The man adores me."

Hermione arches a brow in response. "In the past month I've heard him call you 'entitled', 'petulant', and 'insufferable' on at least three occasions each. Yes, I can tell he thinks you do no wrong."

"All from a place of love," he assures her, grinning, and she laughs, much more free than before.

A knock strikes the door, and both Hermione and Draco look in that direction. "Come in," she intones. Draco is half surprised it wasn't locked. He's a little disappointed to note that probably means she will be leaving again before the end of the night. It's completely unfair of him, of course, but he wishes he could keep her here in this room all the time. It's more than boredom, more than concern for her safety, he just really enjoys her.

"Dinner, Granger." Theo leans his head around the door, but he has his hand dramatically hiding his eyes. "Is everyone and every portrait quite decent?"

"Salazar, you're such a git."

Quickly dropping his hand, Theo grins at Draco. "You know, we all missed you desperately. Glad you weren't really dead, you wanker."

"Yes. The affection positively drips from your words." He pauses, and then asks, "What's for dinner, then?" Draco isn't sure why he tortures himself like this, but his desire for something besides apples and almonds for dinner is growing by the day.

Theo grins that Cheshire grin of his. "Oh, you know, nothing fancy. Fruit and nuts mostly. Oh, and a lamb tagine with couscous and a lovely bottle of Nero d'Avola, already breathing of course. I know how you love those Italian reds."

"I fucking hate you."

Theo just laughs at him. Draco had expected nothing less, honestly. He's missed this fucker. "I'll make sure we put a stasis charm on any we have left. That can be your first meal when Granger here quits messing about and sets you free." Draco watches his friend wink at his witch, who merely rolls her eyes, obviously quite used to him.

"Of course we'll finish off the wine," he throws over his shoulder as he leaves. "I do love what it does to Potter. Less inhibitions and all that." Draco grimaces, not at all interested in thinking of the Chosen One with anything beyond barely-concealed annoyance and latent, never-admitted, envy.

"When you're ready, Granger," Theo says as he's closing the door.

Draco has some unkind words on the tip of his tongue, but Granger speaks first.

"He's really good for Harry."

That's not at all what he had expected. "Oh?" is all he can manage, not sure why she might think Theo is good for anything other than quippy one-liners and otherwise fading into anonymity. That is to say, Draco loves him like a brother, but those are pretty much the impressions of everyone else who ever knew the wizard.

"Harry's so intense. Carries too much weight on his shoulders. He needed someone to ease the tension in the room. Theo's good for that."

"Because the man has no sense of responsibility?" Draco huffs with a grin.

She shrugs. "For whatever reason. It's no one's business to know how they work. They just do."

"Like us?" He asks, very much liking her simple view on relationships, and hoping it carries over to her own.

He's never seen a prettier smile when she says, "Nothing at all like us. We make complete sense, and I won't let anyone tell us otherwise."

What he'd give to sweep her up into his arms in that moment. Certainly his last green apple if he still had one.

Mostly a bit of a relationship chapter here before we speed into the conclusion! Thanks once again to everyone who has been reviewing so far! If things go as planned, we are looking at 28 chapters and most likely being finished by the end of this month!