Reformed

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Goldensnitch18

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Rated M for Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Language, and Violence.

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Summary: Draco Malfoy is released from Azkaban and sent to Hogwarts for his eighth year where he has a year to show that he can be reformed. Hermione Granger, and her friends, are struggling to come to terms with what has happened to them and move on, but she has agreed to be Malfoy's Muggle Studies tutor anyway.

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Disclaimer: I am not profiting from this story.

Anything you recognize belongs to the great and mighty JKR.

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Chapter Twenty-Five

Wednesday, January 20th, 1999

On Tuesday morning, Hermione and Draco received an invitation from Professor McGonagall to join her and the Minister for dinner on Wednesday evening. It wasn't the kind of invitation one turned down, but Hermione still wished a tiny bit that she could. Her nerves about the situation that she and Draco were in skyrocketed, sending her into an anxiety induced frenzy. She hardly looked at or spoke to anyone in the 36 hours leading up to the dinner. Instead, she poured over her study materials for N.E.W.T.s.

When Draco reached out to touch her should, she had snapped at him about not taking this seriously enough, and he had sat silently across the table from her the rest of the evening. He had never seen her quite this tense before, but he quickly realized that trying to reach her was not going to work out in his favor. So, he resigned himself to just being there in case she decided to talk about what was going through her mind. She did not, and they walked silently to dinner on Wednesday, not touching, not even looking at one another. He was irritated to say the least.

They arrived in Professor McGonagall's office before the Minister. "Good evening," she said, smiling at them both. She also seemed a bit off, and Draco hoped that this wasn't an indication of the kind of support they could expect from the Minister. "Have a seat," she told them, motioning to the small table that had been added to her office with settings for four. Draco and Hermione followed her direction, sitting next to each other. Hermione reached over and grabbed his hand, surprising him. He looked over at her, but she was staring down at her empty plate.

Professor McGonagall moved out from behind her desk and joined them. "I suspect the Minister will be here any moment," she said.

"Okay," Draco said, not wanting to just sit there without speaking the entire night.

"I expect you've both been well since we last talked?"

"Yes. We're just studying for N.E.W.T.s," he told her.

"And, you'll be taking a break to go to Hogsmeade on Sunday?" She looked sternly at the both, and Hermione finally seemed to wake from her trance.

"We hadn't really talked about it," she told the headmistress.

"You should go. Enjoy a day off. Everyone needs a break."

Draco laughed, remembering his conversation with Hermione last weekend while his hand had been buried under her skirt. Thankfully, the floo flared green, and the Minister of Magic walked in precisely at that moment, saving him from having to explain what was so funny. Hermione looked at him with wide eyes, as if to ask him what in the world he thought he was doing. He knew she was remembering the exact same conversation that he was.

"Kingsley, thank you for joining us," McGonagall said, motioning to the fourth chair.

"Of course, Minerva." The Minister sat, nodding his head at the two students. As he did so, the plates before them filled with food. "I do love eating at Hogwarts."

"You're welcome any time."

"So, how are things going with your tutoring?" he asked, looking over at Hermione and Draco.

"Very well, sir," Hermione said. Her hand released Draco's as she reached for her goblet. "Draco is doing quite well in Muggle Studies. I believe he will do well on his N.E.W.T.s."

"Wonderful. That is what I hoped to hear." They all ate quietly for a few moments, and then Kingsley cleared his throat. "Hermione, I was wondering if you've seen Harry lately?"

"Over Christmas," she said, worried.

"I … as someone who cares about him, and not as the Minister, I … " he trailed off, looking down at his full fork.

"Worry about him?" Hermione finished.

"Yes." He nodded, looking back at her. "I really wish he would take a break."

"You could make him," she reminded him. "You're the Minister."

"But, if he isn't the one choosing to take the break, is it going to help him?" Kingsley sighed.

"What is going on?" McGonagall asked, her own concern showing in her face now.

Hermione looked over at Draco, not that he could help, before she turned to the headmistress. "Harry isn't himself really. He's working an absolutely ridiculous amount, and, well, everyone is worried about him. Every time I see Ginny, or Ron, or any of the Weasley's, they ask me if I've seen him, or if I've talked to him. I did. I tried, but I don't know what he needs."

"How can any of us know what he needs?" the older woman asked. "We can't possibly imagine."

"Ginny did say that they are having dinner at the Burrow this weekend. I'm hoping that maybe Arthur and Molly can say or do something to get him to open up or … something." Hermione shook her head, pushing at her food with her fork. She wasn't hungry.

"He needs someone to talk to," Draco said, and Hermione looked over at him, surprised.

"What?"

"Potter. He's, well, we've talked about it. He's not talking to anyone about what happened. It isn't healthy. We all need someone to talk to, and he's just keeping it all inside, and he has more to deal with than any of us." Draco shrugged.

"He has Ginny. And Ron."

"That doesn't mean he wants to talk to them." Draco lifted his hands, counting on his fingers as he spoke. Ginny is his girlfriend. He probably doesn't want to make her think he's insane or tell her about all the crazy shit he had to do while she had to sit at school and be a good girl. Ron is emotionally handicapped and dealing with his brother dying. He just vanished for months. He's clearly not doing well. The Weasleys are his girlfriends parents now, no longer his own pseudo parent figures, and they lost their son, and their daughter wasn't talking to them for months because of her relationship with him.."

Hermione stared at him, her mouth hanging open.

"You talk about your friends a lot. Harry needs someone that he can actually talk to without feeling like he's going to break them, like you do for me. And, I hope that I do for you."

Hermione reached out and grabbed his hand, right there in front of the Minister and the Headmistresses, squeezing tightly as her eyes swam. He wasn't wrong.

"Which, I suppose, brings us to the reason we're here," Kingsley said. He was looking carefully at them both.

"I suppose it does," McGonagall agreed.

"How are you planning on dealing with this?" Kingsley asked. It was clear that he only wanted to know what their current plan was.

"Right now, it seems like the best plan might be to wait until after Draco's fate has been decided. We're worried that it would be a distraction, that he may be seen to have … influenced me in some way," Hermione told him.

"There is certainly safety in that," Kingsley agreed. "Professor McGonagall and I have been talking, and we do think that is a good plan, but we have discussed the alternative as well."

"The alternative, sir?" Draco asked.

"Letting other people see what Hermione sees in you, what you have very easily displayed to the Headmistress and I today."

"What is that?"

"That you are not the same boy who stood in that courtroom six months ago, or the boy who was manipulated and -"

"Chose to be that person. Minister, I'm not simply a product of someone else's molding. I chose to be who I became."

"And even in trying to contest my point, you prove it by taking responsibility for your actions. I know the risk. I know what is it at stake, but I believe that this -" he motioned to their still joined hands "- may be the best way to show that you have become exactly what we had hoped you could."

"So, I should use our relationship as a pawn?"

"Draco," Hermione said. "It's not."

"That is what they are suggesting, Hermione. That I let you fight my battle for me, show how much I've changed, even Hermione Granger, the famous Muggleborn can love me now. It makes you seem like a silly girl."

"I would do it a million times to keep you from that place."

"Hermione is not a silly girl. They know that, Draco. If anyone thought of her that way, this wouldn't work," the Minister said.

"I'm not doing it," Draco insisted. "I won't."

"It isn't just up to you," Hermione snapped.

"Why don't the two of you take some time and talk it over," McGonagall suggested. "It's a lot to think about."

"It is," Kingsley said, "But, if this is the path you choose, then I recommend you become open with your relationship as soon as possible. The longer the Wizengamot has to get used to the idea, the better."

"They'll think I've drugged or Imperiused her," Draco demanded.

"Your wand is still checked each week. You've never given us any reason to be concerned. She can be checked for love potions or any other ridiculous idea they come up with."

"Draco, let me do this for you," Hermione said.

"I don't want to put you through this," Draco told her.

"Why don't the two of you let us know by the end of the week what you've decided?" the headmistress asked. Draco simply frowned and went back to eating. Hermione nodded, a stubborn look on her face.

XXX

Saturday, January 23rd, 1999

On Saturday, Ginny and Harry apparated to the Burrow for dinner. Harry kissed her softly before they left, telling her that he was glad she had made plans for them, glad that she was talking to her mother again. When they knocked on the door, Arthur pulled it open quickly. In the next moment, he had them both in a tight hug, kissing them on the side of their heads.

"Good to see you, Ginny. Good to see you, Harry," he told them, releasing them.

"Arthur, stop it." Molly said, but she also kissed them both on the cheek, holding each of their faces in her hands for a moment.

Harry was bright pink by the end of it, and Ginny smiled at his discomfort. "They love you," she whispered to him as they made their way to the kitchen.

Molly piled them with food. Harry ate everything she offered until he felt like he might bust if he had another bite of pudding. As they ate, Arthur regaled them with stories of their early life together. Harry listened raptly, devouring each story, loving the way that Molly knew her role in each one as if they had rehearsed them a million times. Ginny sat quietly beside him. She was smiling. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, carefully reading her as the night progressed. He was worried about her, worried about what might happen, but it seemed that his fears may have been unfounded. She and Molly seemed to both be genuinely trying to accept the things about each other that they could not change and enjoy the evening.

After dinner, Arthur and Harry stayed in the kitchen to clean while Molly and Ginny went to grab some of her things from her room. "Harry," Arthur asked him, "are you talking to her yet?"

Harry stopped what he had been doing, dropping his wand arm, and subsequently shattering a dish. Arthur waved his own wand, repairing the plate and sending it flying into the cupboard.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Are you talking to Ginny about the war?" Arthur asked again, his face serious.

"No," Harry said plainly. "I - why?"

Arthur put a hand on his shoulder. "You are a good man, a man that I will be happy to call my son one day, but if you don't start talking to her about what you went through, it's going to grow and grow into a river between you so vast that you will never be able to cross it."

"Mr. Weasley," Harry started, but faltered. He didn't know what to say.

"I know it's hard. I know it's … it seems like you're hurting her, causing her to suffer, but you aren't. Molly and I - well, we aren't perfect, but we've figured out a fair bit about being married I would say. If you can't talk, if you can't be weak in front of one another, then there's no point."

"Okay," Harry told him, lacking better words in the moment. He was quiet as they finished the dishes. Ginny came to retrieve him shortly afterwards, a few bags and boxes of her things sat at the bottom of the stairs. They said their goodbyes, promising to come for dinner again soon, and left for Grimmauld Place.

As they arrived home, Harry set down the box and bags he was carrying and felt anger flare in his chest. "Did you tell your parents that we're not happy?" Harry asked, pulling at his jacket.

"What?" she asked, confused as she removed her own coat. "No."

"Then why did your father ask me …" Harry shook his head, tossing his coat on the rack before he moved down the hall.

"Ask you what?" Ginny followed after him, but Harry ignored her, moving into the parlor. He ran a hand through his hair. "Harry?" she prompted.

"He asked if I talk to you about the war. Basically said that if I didn't, we shouldn't get married."

"Married?" Ginny said sharply.

"Yes. I'm making a river between us, and if I don't start being weak in front of you then I'm basically going to make you miserable for the rest of our lives."

"Well, if the past nine months are any indication, I can't say that he wouldn't be far off," Ginny told him, irritated. It wasn't fair of him to be using her father's words, words he had clearly told Harry in love to try and instigate whatever argument this was.

"If you're so fucking miserable, then why don't you just leave. I didn't ask you to move in here. You wanted to be here."

"I wanted to be with you. I love you. That doesn't mean you're easy to live with."

"I'm sorry that I'm dealing with-"

"You're not dealing with anything, Harry! That is the problem, and everyone knows it but you. Hermione, and Ron, and my parents, and probably everyone you work with. We all know you aren't dealing with any of it, and it's horrible to watch."

"I - Just because -"

"You have to let me in. I can't keep sitting over here wondering what is going on inside of your brain. You're falling apart, and you won't let anyone in! We all love you, and we just want to help you, and you're killing yourself, and I just need you to let me in."

"I don't know how!" Harry screamed, and Ginny stared at him. His face was red, his pupils dilated, his fists clenched. It was so very unlike the man that he had been since the war. Everything about him filled with rage and pain. She nearly cried in joy that there was still some part of the man she loved hiding within the shell he had become.

Instead, she spoke quietly, "You just have to start. Tell me something, one thing that you don't want to tell me."

Harry looked at her and then down at the floor. He sank into the chair behind him, letting his head fall into his hands. Ginny waited patiently, not moving. Time ticked past, seconds became long minutes, but she waited, watching him struggle before her. He needed to do this. He needed to say something, anything. She wasn't giving up on him. She loved him too much. So, she stood for ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, and the world around them seemed frozen. Eventually, she sat down on the floor in front of him, her eyes never moving from him as she refused to give up.

It took her brain a few seconds to acknowledge his words when he started talking. "I thought … when Ron left us … I thought Hermione and I, we could just keep living that way, hiding out there, alone. I miss it sometimes. It was so simple. It was … it wasn't this."

Ginny was silent. She was afraid to talk too quickly, afraid of her initial reaction which was to wonder for the first time, basically ever, if her boyfriend was in love with his best friend.

She took a deep breath, reminding herself that if that was the case, he wouldn't have come back to her. "What is it about your life right now that feels complicated?" she asked.

"I feel like … like everyone is waiting for the next amazing thing. My life for so long has been about these incredible and horrible things that have happened to me and the people I love, and it never stops, and I always have to save everyone, and someone is going to need me soon and what if I'm not there, and what if it's you? What if something happens to you? What if I can't save you? What if you're gone forever like everyone else I planned to spend my life with?"

His words were a flood, rushing over her with the force of a hurricane, drawing a choked sob from her throat and fiery hot tears from her eyes. "Harry," she moved forward swiftly, grabbing his hands in hers. "Harry," she pressed her face to his, kissing him hard. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, and I don't need you to save me. I just need you to love me, and let me love you. Let me save you for a little while."

Harry was crying too. It was the soft feeling of his tears landing on her hands that alerted her to this fact, but it quickly dissolved into full on sobbing, his body shaking as he sat doubled over in the chair. Ginny held him, whispering words of comfort and love to him, her heart aching in the most horrible way even as she praised every God she could think of for him finally, horribly cracking open just a sliver, enough that she could peek in at the anguish locked inside of him.

XXX

Sunday, January 24th, 1999

"We're doing this," Hermione said stubbornly, holding out a pair of gloves to Draco who sat on his bed, arms crossed.

"I haven't agreed," he told her, his face sour.

"I honestly don't care anymore, Draco"

"So, I just don't get a say?"

"You can have a say when you're willing to have a conversation. So far, you've just been 'No, I'm not letting you do this' and 'I'm not using you as a pawn.' That isn't a conversation."

"So the alternative is you decide for both of us?" He said.

"Yes, because I'm right." Hermione moved closer and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. "I love you, and we don't know if we can keep this quiet for another five months. Theo figured it out already, and who knows if any of our other roommates have figured it out. I want to be the ones to write the narrative."

"Stop trying to be logical." Draco wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in closer.

"Let's just go to Hogsmeade today together. We won't do anything blatant. See what it feels like to be in public together. We can talk again when we get back?"

He leaned back, giving her a suspicious look. "You won't take advantage of my inability to say no to kiss me in public?"

"Oh, Draco." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Put your gloves on." She dropped them into his lap, and pulled away, heading for the door.

Ten minutes later, they were walking down to Hogsmeade together. True to her word, Hermione stood a friendly distance from Draco as they talked about Muggle weather prediction systems. As they entered the village, Hermione's eyes did a double take, focusing in on a head of bright red hair which belonged to a man standing on a ladder outside of an abandoned shop.

"Ron?" she asked causing Draco to stop suddenly, looking at her and then following her eyes.

"Of course," he said.

Hermione frowned at him, wanting to say something more, but a group of Hufflepuff's was walking beside them, so she just said, "I'm going to say hi."

"Okay, I'm going to stay here."

She tried to ignore the expression of dissatisfaction on his face as she turned to run down the short path to where Ron was working. "Ron!" she shouted.

He turned on the ladder, his face breaking to a broad smile. "Hermione!" he called back, surprised. He turned back towards the ladder, moving quickly down.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione yelled as she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

Ron laughed as he hugged her back. "I'm fixing up the new location." As Hermione let go of him, Ron turned to motion at the sign in the window explaining that it was the future site of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"This is wonderful. Is George here as well?"

"No, just me. I'm running the setup mostly on my own."

"That seems like a ton of work," she said. "Do you like it though?"

"I love it, actually," Ron told her, beaming back at the shabby store. "I really do."

"Good. I can't believe you didn't write to tell me you were here!"

"We just started." He held up his hands in surrender. "I didn't realize this was a Hogsmeade weekend. I would have written."

"I would have come to visit you even if it wasn't," she insisted. It hurt that he hadn't said something, but to be fair, no one in their trio was being very diligent with their letter writing. She needed to be better. They all did.

"I know you're busy." Ron gave a meaningful look back to where Draco stood alone, hands shoved into his pockets. Hermione looked back as well. "So, tutoring is going well," he said quietly. "You're coming to Hogsmeade together."

"It's going very well," Hermione told him, nerves flopping madly in her stomach.

"Is he being decent?"

"Ron," Hermione said looking back at him, "Draco and I are … we're together."

Ron's body went a bit rigid as he realized what she had said. "As in …"

"Yes. We're dating," she confirmed.

"I -" Ron's eyes traveled up to Draco again. "For how long?"

"October," she told him softly, knowing it would be a heavy blow.

"October," he repeated. She waited for him to blow up, to be Ron, erratic and unpredictable. Instead, he was quiet, watching Draco pace.

"No one knew," she said softly, knowing this would be the hardest part.

"Does Harry know?" he asked, his tone unrealistically aloof.

"He figured it out." This was true, and it seemed better than letting Ron think she had voluntarily told Harry about Draco and excluded Ron.

"When you went to see Narcissa Malfoy," Ron said. It wasn't a question, more a realization.

"Yes. Can … do you think you could be civil. Say hello?" she asked.

There was another long pause before he said, "Yes."

Hermione turned back to the road, waving for Draco to join them. He raised an eyebrow. "Come on," she insisted.

Draco was slow, his feet following her path to Ron, his steps much more reserved than her own dash towards the shop had been. Hermione nearly rolled her eyes, but at the same time she knew it must be hard for him to come here, to see Ron, but she needed him to do this, to see that it might not be all horrible.

"Malfoy," Ron said, extending his hand.

"Weasley," Draco replied, taking his hand to shake it firmly.

"If I didn't know she could do it better, I'd threaten to kill you with my bare hands if you hurt her."

"Noted," Draco said, and Hermione was nearly positive that he was biting his tongue, swelling whatever comment had come to mind about Lavender or Ron's vanishing act last summer. She loved him for it.

"I can take care of myself," she reminded them both firmly.

Ron looked back at the shop and then down at the Three Broomsticks. "Maybe we could get a drink? You two could tell me more about this?" he suggested.

"Yeah," Hermione said, looking to Draco for confirmation that he was willing to give up their 'date' to spend time with Ron.

"Sure," Draco shrugged.

"I'll lock up and meet you there," Ron told them, smiling widely.

Hermione appreciated the opportunity to talk to Draco for a minute as they finished the walk to the pub. "Thank you," she told him. "Things have been off between us, but Christmas was pretty good, and he seemed to take this well."

"Besides threatening to kill me," Draco reminded her. "When he just-"

"I know what he did." Hermione cut him off. "And, I know you won't do anything like that," she said quietly.

Draco shook his head. As he opened the door to The Three Broomsticks, he leaned closer to her and whispered, "I'm going to need a lot of sex to recover from this."

Hermione snorted, and then covered her face in embarrassment, praying that no one had heard him.

XXX

A/N: Thank you for sticking around for this very long and unpredictable ride. I appreciate you all so much.

XOXO

Meg