Chapter Twenty-Nine: Dinner at the Burrow
Hermione had been floating on cloud nine all week, and even now as she stood washing her dishes in the kitchen, she couldn't help but smile like an idiot. She was going to see them that night—Molly and Arthur and George and Bill and Charlie and even Astoria and Fleur. She was going to seem them all, the people she considered her second family.
She could tell her constant cheeriness was wearing on Draco, but even their small spats couldn't bring her down. She liked Draco, she did, but spending every waking moment with the same person grew tiring, and she longed to see someone—anyone—else. She knew he didn't feel the same way; he seemed far less enthusiastic about spending an evening with the Weasleys. They were starting to bicker more and get on each other's nerves. He had been spending twice as much time on his blasted Prophesieve than normal, claiming he was 'almost very nearly finished'. Despite her reservations towards divination, she was intensely curious to see how the final product would turn out. If nothing else, Draco certainly had a way with magic. He was smart, creative, clever.
He was softening more and more every day, too. Her heart very well near sang when she saw him playing with Teddy on his broom. Was that what women meant when they said they were attracted to men who were good with children? Not to say that she was thinking of having Draco's kids, oh no, but the knowledge that he was good with them… Well, it was nice to know.
But then there was the whole L-word ordeal. He'd said it to her just one night ago after they'd had an argument, and she had been stunned speechless. She wanted to say it back, but she couldn't… It was too soon. Any emotions she was feeling right now were merely chemical reactions, and love was something that had to endure past that initial dopamine high. And how was she to know that Draco really meant it? What if he was just caught up in a moment?
Hermione was so caught up in her own thoughts that she failed to notice Draco sneak into the kitchen behind her, and when he pinched her arse she squealed and dropped a dish on the floor, shattering it.
"Malfoy!" she scolded. He smirked and repaired the dish.
"Sorry," he said in an entirely unapologetic tone.
"What do you want?"
He shrugged. "To talk to you."
She blinked. "Because?"
"Because I want to, do I need a reason?" he said, irritated.
"No, I… It just seems uncharacteristic of you." Since he had said those three little words, he'd been acting extra attentive, and it was beginning to put her on guard. She decided to change the subject. "Are you ready for tonight?"
"No," he grumbled.
"I'm happy you're coming. It means a lot to me."
He sighed and leaned back onto the counter, pushing back his hair in the way he did when he was anxious. She'd learned so many of his little quirks, the way he expressed his feelings: he wasn't the touchy type, especially in front of other people, but in the middle of the night she'd wake up with him clinging to her waist like she was a raft and he was drowning. He still sauntered around the house like a little prat sometimes, but sometimes, when he was talking to Teddy or reading a good book, she'd see his shoulders relax and his eyes soften and he'd look innocent for a moment, like a child. Those were her favorite moments.
"I know it means a lot to you," he said. "But I still don't want to have to spend an evening with a bunch of Weasleys."
Hermione rolled her eyes and then wiped her hands on her jeans, approaching him slowly with a pouty face. "Are you whining, Malfoy?"
"No," he said in a very pouty tone.
"I can think of several ways to thank you for coming."
His frown softened. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," she said, leaning in close, then right before her lips met his, she smirked and pulled away. "But you'll just have to wait and see!"
The moment Hermione stepped through the fireplace into the Burrow, her heart immediately swelled with joy. She even forgot about Draco, who was nervously following close behind her. The room was so busy she almost went unnoticed, but then Molly spotted her and squealed.
"Hermione!" she wiped her floured hands on her apron and scurried over to embrace the younger witch. "Oh, it's so lovely to see you. It's horrible, what's been going on. But Ron added more wards around the house just for tonight."
"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley!"
Molly turned to Draco and gave him a smile as well, though this one was smaller and tighter. But Hermione could tell she was trying. "Mr. Malfoy, it's a pleasure to have you."
Draco extended his hand. "Draco," he corrected. "And thank you for having me."
"Draco," she said, accepting his handshake. She looked back to Hermione. "I have lots to do in the kitchen, you know how it goes. The boys are out back playing miniature Quidditch with Teddy, if you're interested."
Hermione reached for Draco's hand and squeezed. "Want to go see Teddy?" She knew if anyone there could calm his nerves, it would be the little boy.
"Sure."
Arthur, Bill, Charlie, George, and Ron were all in the backyard, tossing around a kid-sized Quaffle as Teddy flew around them on his toy broom. Hermione spotted Percy sitting off to the side on a bench, watching the others with a blank expression. He looked different than she remembered—there was something cold and distant in his eyes.
When Teddy saw her and Draco, he descended his broom with a wide smile. "Hermione! Draco!" he said happily.
The other men turned and their faces hardened when they saw Draco.
"Hi, Teddy," Draco said as he ruffled the child's hair. He nodded at the rest of them. "Hello."
"Malfoy," Ron greeted, trying to break the tension. Teddy looked between the men and frowned, astute enough to sense the strain in the air.
"This is Draco Malfoy," he said to the others. "He's my family."
Hermione thought her heart might melt right out of her chest. She smiled at Teddy and looked at the others hopefully. Then, with a deep breath, George stepped forward and clapped Draco awkwardly on the shoulder. "Right he is, Teddy," he said gruffly. "Right he is."
"Can he play Quidditch with us?"
"Only if he agrees to be a human Bludger," Ron joked, making Teddy laugh.
"No, I think he'd do better as a Keeper," said Charlie with a wink. "Teddy has a habit of 'accidentally' hitting the Keeper with the Quaffle."
Hermione nudged Draco forward and he looked at her with wide, nervous eyes. "Go," she whispered. "I'll be right over there. I want to talk to Percy."
"Promise you'll still shag me even if they pummel me with the Quaffle so hard I lose an eye?"
She chuckled. "As long as the rest of you is intact, I don't really think the face matters, now does it? Go on, now. Go make friends."
Reluctantly, Draco let go of her hand and made his way over to the grassy clearing. Hermione watched Arthur shake his hand and she thanked the gods that Draco was making an effort, and that her family was kind enough to extend him a second chance.
After making sure all was well with Draco, Hermione made her way over to Percy and sat down beside him hesitantly. "Hey, Percy." Growing up, Harry and the other Weasleys always had a hard time understanding Percy, but Hermione felt a kinship with him. Sticklers had to stick together, right?
The bespectacled man didn't make eye contact. "Hermione."
"It's so good to see you again," she said in the most cheery voice she could muster. Up close she could see Percy's face was pale, his skin nearly translucent, his body much thinner and gaunt. He was dressed in a Weasley sweater that practically hung off his frame.
"It's nice to be back," he said in a measured, robotic tone, as if he'd rehearsed the line.
She fidgeted with her fingers, thinking of what to say. Would it be rude to ask how he was? Obviously, he hadn't been doing well. "You don't want to play Quidditch?" she asked.
"I never liked playing Quidditch," he said.
"Oh. Right."
He sighed. "You don't have to pretend to care about me, Hermione."
She frowned. "I'm not pretending. It really is nice to see you again."
Percy lifted his head and stared over at his brothers as they wrestled Teddy off his broomstick. Hermione watched his gaze move over to Draco, and his eyes turned stony. "You brought Malfoy," he said coldly. "My mother warned that you might."
The hatred in Percy's voice scared Hermione, who chose her words carefully. "I'm sorry if it upsets you," she said gently. "I promise you he's a better man now."
Percy chuckled darkly. "I had really hoped you weren't that naïve."
Now entirely uncomfortable sitting next to him, Hermione stood and brushed off her pants. She had one night with the Weasleys, and she had no interest in spending it miserably. "It was nice talking to you," she said curtly. As she walked away she was acutely aware of Percy's eyes on her back. She tried to shake off the eerie feeling as she went to fetch Draco, but then she saw him deep in conversation with Charlie.
"I have some Silverback scales back at my place. I could bring you some if you'd like," she heard Charlie offer.
"That would be fantastic," she heard Draco respond enthusiastically. "They're so hard to get your hands on and having some would cut hours from my brewing process…"
She smiled warmly and decided to leave Draco alone. It seemed he was doing fine all by himself. She returned to the warmth of the Burrow, where all the women plus Harry were gathered in the living room. Astoria and Fleur both pulled Hermione into a hug. "We're so glad to see you again," Astoria said. "Is Draco here?"
"He's outside with the boys. He'll be happy to see you, though, I think he's overwhelmed by the amount of Gryffindor in this house."
Astoria laughed. "I'm not sure I have much of the typical Slytherin spirit left in me… Nor does it seem Draco has, either." She motioned out the window where Draco was now chasing Teddy around on his broom. Hermione smiled.
"He's a different man."
"And I'm sure you have everything to do with that," Fleur chimed in with a wink.
"I think he just needed the right person to bring the best of him out," said Hermione truthfully.
It wasn't long before Molly called the men in for dinner and Draco returned to Hermione's side. She grinned up at him. "You looked like you were having fun out there."
"It wasn't horrible," he said coolly.
"Admit you like them."
He wrinkled his nose. "I will never do such a thing. The only one I like is Teddy. And even he can be irritating."
Hermione elbowed him in the side. "You're a prat."
He kissed the top of her head innocently and pulled into a seat beside her at the long dining table. Hermione appreciated for the first time the strangeness of the situation. She had countless memories at this table, and never once did she think Malfoy would be sitting there of his own accord, by her side, his hand resting possessively, nervously, on her thigh.
Luckily, Astoria and Charlie sat beside him, which Hermione could tell put Draco at ease. George and Molly were across from them. Once dinner was served, Hermione laughed as Draco watched in horror at how the Weasleys dined.
"Why are they picking off each other's plates?" he whispered out of the corner of his mouth to her.
"It's called sharing," she said as she picked a grape off his plate and popped it into her mouth. He scowled.
"That's barbaric."
Molly leaned over with a falsely cheery smile. "So, Mr. Malfoy—"
"Draco," he corrected again.
"Draco," she said. "Ron tells me you've been training to be an Auror."
"Almost there. Grang—Hermione was my final assignment."
Molly beamed. "I think that's wonderful. Good for you. It shows you've… grown."
Draco's hand tightened on Hermione's thigh and she squeezed it, silently telling him: She's trying.
"Say, Malfoy, noticed you haven't had any of your potatoes yet," said George. "Don't think my mum's cooking is good?"
"What? No," said Draco defensively as he speared a potato slice and lifted it to his mouth. Before he could eat it, however, Hermione swatted it out of his hand.
"Don't!" She glared at George, who was grinning mischievously. "What did you do to it?"
"I haven't a clue what you're talking about."
"George," she warned.
"Fine, I might have charmed it to turn into a slug once it entered his mouth," sighed George.
"What?" Draco spluttered as he tossed the potato aside. "That's revolting."
Hermione, however, smiled and patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. "No, this is a good sign. If George tries to prank you, it means he's accepted you."
"You people are nutty," muttered Draco as he inspected at the rest of his food carefully.
On the other side of the table Teddy was telling everyone about 'Cousin Draco's broomstick tricks', which led to a yelling match across the table about who was the best Quidditch player. Draco even joined in after awhile, debating fiercely with Bill about speed over agility. As they shouted over one another, Hermione noticed Percy sitting quietly at the end of the table. He was squashed between Arthur and Ron and was staring at Draco with pure hatred in his eyes. While everyone else argued and laughed, he sat in silence, his shoulders hunched and his brow furrowed.
Hermione leaned into Ginny, who was seated to her right. "Is Percy okay?"
Ginny shrugged. "He's been a little off since coming back, but the doctor said it's normal. Side effect of the potions he's on. Percy's always been a little more reserved anyway."
Hermione knew this about the most pompous Weasley son, but she never remembered him being so angry. Nevertheless, Ginny was probably right. Mental health was a newer subject of research in the wizarding world, and current potion treatments were experimental at best. Percy was probably just experiencing some odd side effects. She tried her best to shake off the strange feeling she got from looking at him and leaned back in to Draco, who was now trying his best to engage Molly in a discussion about her mashed potatoes.
"They're very fluffy," he said with an unnecessary amount of enthusiasm. Molly began to prattle on about her secret recipe and Hermione tried not to giggle as Draco tried his best to look anything but absolutely uninterested. He drew little circles on her thigh as he mhm-ed and nodded at Molly.
In that moment, Hermione's heart swelled with so much happiness she didn't quite know how to contain it. She could tell he was trying, really trying. He wanted these people to like him, because these were her people. Draco peered at her from the corner of his eye, catching her stare, and winked just slightly, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. His fingers interlocked with hers and he squeezed, hard, and then she realized what this feeling in her heart was. It was love. She loved him.
She reveled in this realization for a moment. She wanted nothing more than to tackle him into a kiss and tell him over and over: I love you! But he was busy right now, and she had a feeling they'd have time in the future to talk about it. She pocketed the feeling and decided to give it to him as a present that night, when they were alone.
After dinner, Draco got caught up talking to Charlie about dragons again, leaving Hermione with an opportunity to be on her own. She walked from the kitchen to the living room to the dining room, joining in on conversations, until she made it to the staircase. It had been years since she'd been up in any of the Weasley children's rooms. Full of nostalgia, she started up the lopsided stairs, stopping to smile at the various pictures hanging on the wall. She went straight to Ron's old room, third room on the left, and was blown away by how much it hadn't changed. There was still a hideous Chudley Cannons blanket hanging off his bed, a pile of laundry that never got folded in the corner, and pictures scattered all over his desk. She picked up the first one—it was she, Ron, and Harry outside the Hogwarts Express before their fourth year (she could tell from their haircuts—it had been a bad year for the boys). She traced over her bright eyes—so young, so excited. So innocent.
"Hey, there."
The voice from the doorway made her jump, hand to her heart. She looked up—it was Harry. "Harry, you terrified me!"
"Sorry," he said, stepping into the room. Ron followed behind him and for a moment she was transported back in time, remembering the last time the three of them had been in Ron's bedroom: the summer before their seventh year, planning their expedition to destroy the horcruxes while also cleaning up the Burrow for Bill and Fleur's wedding. She'd no idea back then just how much she needed to prepare for.
"We were wondering where you'd gone," said Ron.
"And you thought to look up here?"
"You're not friends with someone for this long without developing a skill for tracking them down," said Harry with a wink. He sat on the edge of Ron's bed and sighed. "When was the last time we hung out? Just the three of us?"
"When we were eighteen?" guessed Hermione with a chuckle. "Then Ginny joined in. Not that I'm complaining, of course. She helped balance out the testosterone level in the group."
"I miss this," said Ron as he leaned against the doorframe. "Things were simpler when it was just us."
Hermione shrugged. "Sometimes complicated can be better. Makes life more fun."
Harry gave her a knowing smile. "I noticed Malfoy's getting on well with everyone."
"I made him promise to try his best."
Ron snorted. "And he agreed?"
"Well, you see, I've got these very persuasive lady parts—"
"Shut up, shut up!" Ron yelled as he covered his ears.
"What, like you haven't seen my lady parts before?"
He glared. "I don't want to think about Malfoy anywhere near those parts."
Harry shook his head with a grin. "You really like him, don't you Hermione?"
She took a deep breath and looked bashfully at her feet. The answer was yes, she did like him. A lot, actually. He made her feel challenged, and yet safe, he made her happy, but not in a complacent way. He complemented her, like a puzzle piece she hadn't known she was missing.
"Yeah," she admitted. "I really, really like him."
She could tell it pained Harry somewhat to hear this, but he still smiled supportively nonetheless. "Hermione, I want you to know… If you're serious about him, if you really care about him… Then we support you. Right, Ron?"
Ron seemed less inclined to agree, but after being stared down by Harry, he relented. "Yeah. We just want you to be happy, Hermione."
Hermione smiled broadly at her two best friends, feeling her heart swell with love. "That means a lot to me. I was worried… Well, sometimes I worried that you wouldn't want to be around me as much if I was with him…"
Ron scoffed. "What kind of friends do you think we are?"
"Yeah, Hermione, I think we've been through a lot worse. It'll take a lot more than your prat boyfriend to tear us apart." Harry tossed an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a hug, and she nearly started crying. She really had missed them. She'd have to start scheduling regular visits with them after this whole ordeal was over and she was out of Grimmauld Place.
"We really should hang out again, just the three of us. Sometime soon."
"We'd better hurry up and do it before the baby gets here," said Harry wearily. "Once that thing comes out, I won't have a minute of free time for a few years. Can you imagine—Ginny and a baby?"
Ron grinned and shook his head. "Come on, now, let's get back downstairs before Mum starts wondering where we've gone."
They descended the staircase together. Hermione had barely touched her feet to the landing when she heard a shriek from the backyard, and then a few more shouts. She turned to the boys. "What was that?"
"Probably one of George's pranks," said Ron with a shrug. Then there were two more yells, these ones frantic, and his eyes widened. "Or maybe not…"
A dark, sinking feeling settled in Hermione's stomach. With a lightning-fast speed she didn't know she even possessed, she raced to the back door, and nearly vomited at the sight she saw before her.
On one side of the yard, Draco was standing alone, wand raised. Across from him stood Percy, his eyes full of revulsion, his wand also raised. In between them was a scorch mark in the grass, the remnant of whatever curse had been cast.
Faintly she heard Harry yell at her to stay back, but he didn't get there fast enough to stop her. All logic flew out the door as she pulled out her own wand, raced to Draco's side, and threw up a shield.
"Hermione," she heard Percy call out to her. "Lovely of you to join us."
"Granger," she heard Draco whisper desperately. "Why?"
From this angle, she saw something that made her blood run cold: standing just behind Percy were two other figures dressed in all white. The truth hit her like a Bludger to the stomach: it had been him. The leader of the White Hats… it had been Percy.
"Now put down your wand and come join us on the right side of history," Percy said in an eerily calm cadence. "No one here wants you to be collateral damage."
A/N: Gasp! It was Percy! Actually, many of you guessed this, so maybe not such a gasp! moment. I'm so sorry this update took awhile, I actually didn't have the second half of the chapter written until today. I believe there are four more chapters, so… sniff… we're getting towards the end, y'all!
Review question: What's the best thing that's happened to you this week? Mine is that I'm done with my second year of college. Woot woot.
