"I miss him," Hermione confessed to Ginny and Luna.
Ginny had called her brother a moron and charged Harry with keeping him in line. She had ushered Hermione and Luna into the bedroom she shared with the former to avoid any more stupid comments from the peanut gallery.
"He is nice to look at," Luna commented.
Hermione still wasn't sure how to talk to Luna; sometimes the younger girl would just blurt out some random ridiculous notion which left her speechless. At other times she would say something utterly profound and leave everyone within hearing range in awe of her insights.
"He can make me laugh," Hermione said quietly, "In a witty way, you know?"
"I love Harry and Ron," Ginny added, "But wit was never their forte."
"They are more genuine," Hermione agreed, "What you see is what you get. They never had to hide their feelings to protect themselves."
"You do that," Luna mused, "It's odd how much you two have in common."
"It's so hard trying to get to know him," Hermione confessed, "Whenever the conversation veers toward anything important he brushes it off with a sneer or an insulting comment."
"Defence mechanism," Ginny mused, "He'll never change really. As long as he opens up to you in private I don't think it would be a problem."
"I'm so used to issues being spewed out to be dealt with," Hermione said with a small smiled, "I never appreciated how blunt our boys can be."
"The boys in Ravenclaw could be subtle when they wanted to be," Luna added, "It turned out that hiding my shoes was an attempt to flirt."
"Maybe it's just Gryffindor boys who have the subtlety of a rampaging hippogriff?" Ginny wondered.
"You'll end up being the only person who can see through his act," Luna sighed, "I bet it will take years to figure out all the facial clues to indicate when he lies."
"I doubt I will need years," Hermione decided, "I can feel an echo of his emotions, and he can feel mine."
"How is he feeling now?" Ginny asked.
Hermione stared at the wall behind Ginny's head to concentrate, "Anxious, confused and a bit guilty."
"He might think you're angry at him," Luna hypothesised.
"I'm not; he should be able to feel that at least."
"You were furious at Ron," Ginny recalled, "How is Malfoy supposed to know who the anger is aimed at?"
"Great," Hermione realized, "He's probably beating himself up for no reason."
"How silly," Luna agreed, "Ron would gladly save him the effort. He seems oddly fond of violence around Draco."
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"Why don't you want to see a Mind Healer?" Andromeda asked Draco casually.
He shrugged, "I don't want to talk about it."
"A problem shared is a problem halved," she continued, "It took Ted months to convince me to speak to someone after I was cast out by the family. I had nightmares and bouts of depression for years but sorting through the pain was the only way to control it."
"If I talk about it, I have to accept that it was real," Draco said tightly.
"It is real," Andromeda replied smoothly, "Hiding from those memories will only give them more power."
Draco wanted to say something rude to drive her away. Unfortunately for him she reminded him too strongly of his mother.
"I'll think about it," he said grudgingly.
"You may look like your father but your personality is mostly from the Black side," Andromeda decided, "We can be just as stubborn and judgemental but at least we are never boring."
Draco could not label his father as 'boring'. As a child Lucius had been terrifying, and as a teenager he had been ruthless and respected. Now he was a shadow of his former self.
"Your father was nicknamed 'Sponge-man' when we all got drunk together," Andromeda revealed, "He always seemed to absorb the opinions and demeanour of the people around him. Too bad he was surrounded by arseholes."
Like Lucius, Draco had long ago learned how to become what others expected. He had always considered it a useful skill, and it had certainly saved his life in the past. Spending time with Hermione had softened his reactions to unfamiliar situations; even Potter was mostly tolerable most of the day. Weasley was annoying, but no longer worth inflicting violence on.
Draco had always wanted to be like his father; until Voldemort had returned. Seeing the once proud Malfoy patriarch bow to anyone was traumatic enough; seeing him tortured and brown-nosing had left him nauseous. He had been fifteen when he realized he didn't want to be anything like Lucius.
Of course, he had ended up following the Death Eater path anyway. Fear had driven him to act as bad as any other simpering lackey trying to avoid torture and an early grave.
"He never had a choice either," Draco said sadly, "His father threw him to the wolves just as he did to me."
"And the cycle of fear continued into the next generation," Andromeda agreed, "I am glad I will be around to see you step out of their shadows."
The ache in his chest had been much worse when Hermione had left the Burrow. It was uncomfortable enough that his hand kept moving up to press against the same spot. He wondered if he had simply braced himself for it better when he had been the one to depart.
Andromeda had withdrawn her hand from his shoulder but the way she had reached out to him so casually lingered in his mind. Other than his mother, Hermione was the first person he trusted to touch him. He would always associate his father's touch with impending pain.
"I can see your mother in your face when you are thinking deeply," Andromeda revealed, "The shape of your mouth and that crease between your eyebrows give it away."
Draco felt questions surface in his mind and wondered if it would be rude to simply ask them. Hermione preferred the direct approach, but he wasn't sure if it was a female trait or a Gryffindor one.
"When you began dating your husband," Draco began carefully, "Was he surprised by things you would say and do?" He didn't observe any flinch at the mention of her late husband so he completed the question rather than abandoning it.
Andromeda nodded, "All the time. He couldn't understand why I would cringe when he first tried to hold my hand. He was so hurt that I had to explain that my parents would only reach out to me if I was to be punished. He thought that was incredibly sad."
"It's frustrating too," Draco decided, his voice strengthening, "Molly and Arthur hug their kids all the time. Why couldn't we have had that?"
"Was it difficult realizing how much you envy the Weasley family?"
Draco stared at her for a few long seconds. He hated that she could read him so easily.
"Of course it was. I've been punched in the face before and the experience was oddly similar."
"That is definitely your mothers' sense of humour," Andromeda said with a smile, "Lucius would have sneered and said something like 'A Malfoy would never be envious of a Weasley'." Her impersonation of his father was uncanny.
"He's a prat," Draco sighed, "But I still want him to be proud of me. I'm screwed up."
"You're normal in that regard Draco," Andromeda disagreed, "Everyone wants to make their parents proud in their own way. Even knowing logically that his opinion is not worth hearing most of the time, a part of you will always want his approval."
"Did you have the same problem?"
"Definitely. Most of my sessions with the Mind Healer were about my sense of guilt for letting my parents down, even though they were disgraceful excuses for human beings."
"I'm not even sure when Father started looking at me strangely," Draco recalled thoughtfully, "Clearly he and Mother suspected I would become a Veela well before I was informed. His lectures on choosing a Pureblood bride kept getting longer after I turned fourteen. Did he really think his opinions would influence a decision I had no control over?"
"He was clutching at straws," Andromeda provided, "As much as he likes the Pureblood ideology, it simply doesn't hold up to scrutiny."
"No matter what else he is; he was never an idiot. I can only imagine how much effort it took to ignore the truth for so long," Draco mused.
"Lucius was always stubborn," Andromeda mused, "He might still have his head firmly planted up his arse. Has he said anything disparaging about Hermione since he found out she was your mate?"
"Not to my face," Draco grumbled, "I'm sure I've walking in on a few conversations between my parents about it though. The sudden silence is a bit of a give-away."
"They could have been discussing Voldemort?"
Draco doubted it. Lucius had always tried to keep Narcissa out of important conversations, and had shut down her opinions even when Draco was in the room instead of just eavesdropping.
The roar of the fireplace was a welcome distraction. Hermione stepped out, followed a few seconds later by Looney and Weaslette.
Draco took one look at the distress on the face of his mate and wanted to sink into the lounge. He hadn't realized that his anxiety and longing had covered the same feelings he was picking up from her.
"See?" Weaslette said to Hermione, "He's fine. Quit stressing; you're giving yourself wrinkles."
Hermione had her fingers entwined in the material at the bottom of her shirt, and was fidgeting nervously. Her bottom lip was being trapped by her teeth again, which was very sexy.
"You didn't come back," Hermione said quietly.
The presence of the other three people in the room was easily ignored; they could have used a Portkey to go to Antarctica and Draco would not have noticed.
"I'm sorry," Draco apologized, "I thought you were angry at me. I deserve it."
Hermione huffed at him, "You felt the wave of fury as you arrived here?"
Draco nodded. Weaslette was rolling her eyes at the two of them.
"I was angry at Ron," Hermione explained, "More rubbish tumbled out of his mouth. Luna managed to shut him up pretty effectively though."
"Silencing Charm?" Draco guessed.
"The Sprute Flies are moving in the opposite direction around your head," Looney replied, "I bet your other elbow is itchy now."
Andromeda stood up to hug the three young witches in a warm greeting. Draco only had eyes for Hermione.
"Ron was being unfair," Weaslette was saying to Andromeda, "Luna pointed out how much he tried to help her when she was held prisoner."
"Malfoy Manor didn't feel like a prison," Looney mused, "All the stories about growing up there were helpful at the time."
Draco regarded the strange blonde in surprise, "Whose stories?"
Luna smiled at him, "My grandmother Ellaria Lovegood. Her maiden name was Malfoy. Apparently her brother Abraxas would pretend to be a gallant hero and save the kidnapped princess from the dungeons. She was exiled from the family when she married a Muggle-born."
If Draco hadn't been sitting down, he would have fallen on his backside. His grandfather Abraxas Malfoy had had a sister? Looney Lovegood was his second cousin?
"You didn't know?" Weaslette guessed, "I wonder if anyone else at Hogwarts can claim to be your family?"
"After being exiled, the family member is never spoken of again," Andromeda explained, "I am not surprised that you had never been told of the connection."
"Your father looks like mine," Luna added, "Except he always looks cranky. Does he eat enough fibre?"
Weaslette began giggling and even Hermione smiled. Andromeda soon convinced the younger two women to accompany her to the kitchen.
"I missed you," Draco said simply when he and Hermione were alone.
Hermione didn't bother replying. The ache in her chest wasn't painful, just distressing. She didn't like feeling that something vital had been ripped away.