A/N: Thank you, guys. I'm glad you liked it. Let's see if I can tie it back in.
For a personal request from Anon, here's the update (you're lucky that I just checked it over. Don't blame me if it wasn't ready to go (wink)) And hey, Anon, how were you able to review twice for one chapter? I thought you can't do that.
But I have to say: I went to read the last chapter on its actual site, not as a word file, and I was aghast how different it reads on the fanfiction page. And how far I still have to go to make this a really good story that reads as nicely as from really good writers. It reads very abrupt at times. Sigh. Oh, well. I also made the mistake to check out the Summer 2012 hp fanfic poll awards over on livejournal, and there are some freaking excellent stories in the running. And it makes me depressed every time I read a story by lomonaaeren. I just can't flex my words the way she can. Arrgh.
Thank you, articcat621, ChoColATE462 (I went to a Peruvian restaurant once that you wouldn't have seen if you didn't know it was there and it had fantastic food. ;-))), Gryff-Slytherin (yeah, sorry about Flint and Pucey but I needed the Quidditch connection, and Flint was Team Captain. I read fantastic nice stories about him as well and it was difficult.), Anon (I don't know how to put it lightly but: what are you doing up in a tree at night? You are not possuming, are you? And I've got a few more weeks' worth of updates for you but be prepared, hon. I can't go longer, I'm already way over my time limit, I need to get the story out of my head and concentrate on my (paid) work. And the story is finished where it's finished, you'll see. But I've got a few related one-shots running through my head already, while I'm writing this. Let's see what I can make out of it.), and Artemisgodess (I haven't envisioned any friendship between Pansy and Hermione, I just wanted Pansy to get to see Hermione's point of view, bridging the traditional gap so to say, but thanks for the tip. Harry and Draco, on the other hand, well, you'll have to wait another two chapters. They'll be getting there, very slowly.)
On that note, I really need to hurry and I can't invest as much time into the story as I used to. So, if you feel it starts to sound a little hurried or stops making sense because I overlooked something, TELL ME. You are all my beta readers, tell me if something stops making sense.
And I struggled, because I changed the last chapter very shortly before publication and I have to match everything through to the end to it and the end (it's pretty much written) back to this and so, I didn't get it done for the last weekend. In addition, I was gone both last weekends to family celebrations and didn't have much time to work on this. So, please, again, in light of this, tell me what went wrong and where it does.
Until then, enjoy the read
Oh, a Warning: this chapter contains a scene of a description of a non-con assault. Don't read it if you are sensitive to it.
And a Disclaimer for those who haven't noticed: the characters in this story belong to JK Rowling of the Potteruniverse. I just claim the story.
.
Chapter 30: New Year
.
On the first day of the year 1999, Hermione woke up, as usual with her limps intertwined with Draco's. How they could sleep like that was a miracle to Hermione. She knew that she normally needed more than half a bed in her sleep because she moved around, her busy mind reflected in her sleep. It seemed that Draco's presence in her bed calmed her sleep rhythms. Odd.
It was late in the morning, and watery sunrays filtering through the shades into her bedroom landed right on a male hip bone. She smiled, thinking "Happy New Year to me", when she let her eyes glide up and down the male body belonging to the lightened hip.
So, this was the New Year and she was starting it in the arms of Draco Malfoy. Coming home after the party, he had simply dropped on the bed, gathered her in his arms and fallen asleep. She didn't blame him. After what had happened, it was no wonder he was worn out. The nap that had never taken place had insured that they had already been exhausted beyond comprehension.
She was glad that he had come back with her, though. He could have been terribly ashamed or angry at her for fighting him in front of his friends and for beating him. But it would have made matters worse, if he had carried this out with himself. From what she could see, sleep hadn't brought the sought after respite for Draco, because even relaxed in his sleep he looked distraught. If he had been alone, it likely would have been worse. She was tempted to stroke over the frown on his forehead and the shadows under his eyes but she didn't want to wake him. Another hour of sleep would do him good.
And there had been something else. While she put her magic against him, it had given her an uncomfortable ache right behind her navel. Or a little lower. Funnily, the compow hadn't exploded like the last time they had fought, but Hermione figured that was because the previous day, she hadn't been fighting him in anger: she had prevented him from doing something stupid. When the compow had exploded on them, they had matched their anger against each other, their enmities out in the open. And this time, all she had thought about was to stop him from giving in to his rage because he would regret it later. But the thought that he would be angry with her for going so openly against him, and leave her alone for the night, had hooked in her lower belly and pulled painfully. Like a sharp menstrual pain. The thought that this wizard would not be here next to her on that very morning had given her an ache between her legs. An asinine empty, hollow ache. As if something elemental was missing.
But she had no doubt that before this day was over, they would have found opportunities to, well, get some exercise between the sheets and the hollow to be filled. Hermione pulled up an eyebrow in disbelief. Was she actually thinking about doing it with Draco Malfoy? Looking forward to it? Hermione Granger, the bookworm incarnate? She giggled a little and then stretched genially, anticipation tingling in her bones.
"Would it be too much to ask that you don't knock me awake in the morning?" A sleepy growl came from her right. She didn't let it bother her and sat up, bending over him.
"Rise and shine, honeybun," she sing-sanged. "If you sleep so close to me, you can't complain if you wake when I move. Count yourself lucky that I didn't push you over the edge during the night. I seem to sleep much quieter since you are here."
The deliciously handsome man with the rumpled blond strands opened his eyes and speared her with an ice-cold stare. "I've left girls in tears for much lesser offenses. Don't ever call me a pet name," he growled.
Hermione snickered. Yesterday's doubts in the past and token of appreciation given and received, and civil conversations had with some of his friends, she was content, and she started to love their bantering, she really did. Draco's snarkiness gave their banter the right spice. Harry and Ron had always been too intimidated by her snide remarks. She put her nose against his and smiled in his face. "Or what, sweetheart?" she teased slyly.
He snarled and with the velocity of an attacking snake he reached up and pulled Hermione down to his chest, turning her in the process so that she came to rest with her back to his front. With the same quickness, he had come up so that he could put his teeth on the side of her neck. Hermione squeaked in shock at his quick action but giggled when she felt him nibbling on her skin.
Oh, yes, and a magical fight won and his soul saved. Big sigh. Gawd, had that ever been hairy.
"Or I'll have you for breakfast. Crispy Granger skin would be just the thing."
His hand on her breast, palming it over the sleep shirt, he nibbled his way up and down her neck to her continuously shorter gasps until he reached her ear lobe and pulled it gently with his teeth.
"Happy New Year, Granger," he whispered directly in her ear.
He might as well have whispered little naughty nothings, because Hermione shivered. His whispering in her ear went directly down to the centre between her legs and tickled it awake. While Draco still rubbed the tip of his nose over her ear shell and neck, she turned around. They had somehow missed the clock struck twelve last night, and the wishing each other a happy new year. They had been somewhat busy holding each other up.
Looking up into tired grey eyes, she said: "Happy New Year to you, Draco," and stroked her forefingers once down from his forehead, down the side of his face to his chin.
After a brief shallow kiss, a short look in her eyes brought back the memory of last night and he let his head sink on her reclined shoulder in weariness. She stroked his hair. She couldn't hold her curiosity and concern back any longer. "What happened with Flint and Pucey?"
He slipped back to her side, settled flush against her and fixed his gaze on her mouth. "Remember what Flint said about a girl in a yellow dress?"
Hermione didn't dare move a muscle but she had to put her assumption out there. "The one they raped?"
Draco nodded. After a minute of staring at her lips, he seemed to have gathered enough resolve to tell what was on his mind.
"I followed the sound of her screaming to find them in the middle of it. It didn't even sound human and I thought they were slaughtering a pig in the stables, until I turned the corner into the barn. Her dress was ripped in two, and Pucey was holding her down in the straw while Flint had a go. She fought them tooth and nail until Flint had enough of her scratches and bites and beat her close to unconsciousness. I tried to distract and divert them with everything I could think up, asking if she was even magical and how disgusting if she was a muggle and had they no self-respect and so on, but they finished what they started, disregarding me, just leaving me standing there. I've never seen anything more disgusting and brutal, and so, I went to wait outside, biting my fingernails down to the flesh, trying to block out the sounds." He paused to exhale.
"When they were both sated, they fell asleep with their pants still pulled down and I had a chance to get to the girl. She was a mess. The only thing I could do was to heal and obliviate her. I couldn't have prevented the rape by stunning them, it would have cost my head, and my family's as well, to act against Flint. He was one sought after Death Eater recruit for his maliciousness, and I would have had a job to explain why. I repaired and cleaned her blood stained dress and levitated her far away from Flint's farm, close to the village behind the separating forest. I put her in the grass under a huge willow, so that she would think she had fallen asleep and had a bad dream. I hoped she lived in the village. It wasn't far from where I deposited her." He paused and swallowed heavily. Hermione held her breath.
"I didn't return to Flint's farm but went back home and hid in my room. I must have chucked up the entire content of my stomach and then some. I was sick for two days. Since he brought it up yesterday, of course, I dreamed about it."
Right, he had gripped her very tight during the night and whimpered. Hermione had woken up because of it but gone right back to sleep when he had turned away and let go. His nightmares had become less frequent but she hadn't been surprised that the events of the previous night hadn't let him sleep well. When he paused again in his telling and it didn't seem like he had more to add, Hermione asked quietly: "When was that?"
Draco swallowed again and said: "The summer before fourth year. I was just fourteen." Hermione gasped and put a consoling hand on his cheek, but didn't want to comment on it.
"Our relationship on the Quidditch team was a little disturbed after that. Luckily, there was no Quidditch in fourth year due to the Triwizard Tournament, but I had to make a friendly face. They gave pointed hints from time to time that the next time they would let me participate. I made a vow to myself that I would never, ever contribute to such brutality. I vowed to myself that I would never take a girl or woman against her will. And then I was initiated as a Death Eater at just sixteen and the exact thing was required of me."
"You mentioned it that night in the classroom but I never heard what became of it," Hermione asked tentatively.
Draco snorted. "I was able to divert them, again and again, and I was lucky. My mother did her very best to change the topic, whenever it came up, and pointed out that it would distract me from my task. Snape did the same thing, saying I wouldn't be able to focus if I was distracted by such mundane things, and my father, incredibly, didn't say anything either. Once I was invited to a meeting and I nearly lost it in freight. But before anything could take place, Voldemort got called away. He had to leave immediately, and the meeting was called off. Back in the manor, I sank to the floor just inside the door to my room, with our talk from the classroom on my mind, and didn't move for the rest of the night in relief. I believe early in the morning Deezy levitated me back on my bed. After sixth year, I refused to go home as much as possible, since he was living in our house when he was in Britain, and Voldemort luckily had other things on his mind. I had to endure their taunts at every opportunity, though. Flint and Pucey in particular insinuated that I was likely gay because I didn't push the issue to participate in a "meeting". One more reason to shag as many girls as possible, to get a reputation."
He had to tell her that much. Hermione had a right to know why he had sought out so many women and why he had reacted so vehemently last night, because she had put her neck out for him. But there were things he couldn't yet say out loud. He wasn't sure if he ever could. One of those things was that every time he was with a girl and he heard the noises of sex, of flesh meeting flesh, he fought himself tooth and nail, like the girl fighting against Flint, to disassociate these noises with his memory, focusing only on the pleasures. He tried everything he could think of to make this pleasurable togetherness enjoyable for both of them, the girl and himself, to try to replace the memory with pleasurable sex and to drown out the nausea that crept up his throat every time he didn't pay attention to their mutual pleasure. And every time he managed to climax, when he had convinced himself enough that this was effing good, when he had brought the woman he was with to climax enough to convince himself that she enjoyed it, every time he gave into softening his inner defences through the climax, the memory came flooding back and he had to leave, because the nausea overtook him. He needed the release to quiet his mind but he had to fight himself to get there, each and every time. He got there, alright, but it was a rocky road.
With Granger, though, he didn't need to fight with himself. When he was with Granger, not only did she arouse him more than sufficiently, but he didn't have to fight the memories surfacing. In fact, within the last few days he had been with her, he hadn't thought about it once. Not until Flint and Pucey had appeared at the party. As if she was a mental buffer to some horrors of his past. His mind was calm in Granger's vicinity, even though his mouth wasn't and other body parts weren't either. As if her presence blocked some areas of his mind and enhanced others, especially the ones to do with shagging. As if she grabbed his prick in her warm hands and held him thus, and he was perfectly relaxed and content to think of nothing else but the fact how her gentle hands on his prick felt. Warm. Comfortable. Tingling. Arousing.
And then he remembered why he thought about her hands on his prick, and was bolted back into reality.
Draco still didn't look in her eyes and Hermione could see by the flush on his usually pale cheeks that this topic upset him very much. And he put one more on top. His scowl had gotten deeper and deeper the more he talked.
"When they mentioned last night, these beasts, that they wanted to do the same to you, I couldn't stay calm. To think they could have gotten their fingers on you, just to imagine …" He couldn't continue. His voice got stuck in his clogged up throat.
Hermione quickly embraced him and pulled him against her. He breathed heavily into her throat.
"Draco, it would never happen. Even if you are not always around, I'm quite able to protect myself."
"You don't know that," he spat, pressed against her chest. She pulled back a little, being spat at. "You don't know what they are capable of. That's the downside of you goody-two-shoes, you cannot imagine what cruelties people, even wizards can think up. You just can't." He swallowed hard and then added: "I couldn't either until I saw it."
He hid his face in the crock of her neck and breathed deeply. Her scent was still the best pacifier for his upsets, the same as the rose scent that was prevalent in the protection of his rooms. Was that the downside of love? When you loved, you were afraid for your loved ones? But he'd always known that, didn't he? He still wouldn't trade it for the world, this heart opening feeling, now that he knew it. But he needed to hold her real tight, to make sure she was safe.
Hermione stroked through his hair, massaging the nape of his neck and his scalp. She felt his arms cling around her, as if he was afraid somebody would rip her out of them. She liked it, how he held her tight, but she would have rather that he'd not done it out of desperation.
So close to him, smelling his spicy scent and feeling his warm body next to hers and digging into his soft hair, the heat surging through her made her heart swell and burst. It felt like flowers blooming, like the air in the spring when you feel like skipping and dancing and singing because the sun is shining and the winter is over and Hermione let herself be dragged away by this wonderful feeling of being alive and of experiencing life to its fullest, of wanting to embrace even her worst enemy. He needed her. He couldn't be all bad if he needed and accepted her help. This was what love was all about, this heart bursting feeling because it was full to the brim. She'd never felt like that with Ron.
"Why did you fight me?" he mumbled into her throat.
Hermione kissed his temple and said: "You know why."
He nodded. A minute or two later, he brought his head up and fixed her gaze with a frown. Delving in her pleasant thoughts of love, she gave him a smile.
"How is it even possible that you won? I am a man and you are a slim woman." He didn't want to go into the pureblood-muggleborn discussion. It wasn't significant or relevant. She was magically as powerful as he was. Period.
Hermione breathed a laugh. "Well, we were not brawling, so physical strength didn't count. And since we are of equal magical strength, it didn't really make a difference either. So, I'm either smarter than you, strategically, or …" She paused, wanting to see if he owned up to it. He didn't.
"Or what?" he asked with narrowed eyes.
She gave him a light kiss. "Or you wanted me to win."
His eyes widened. "Why would I want to be vanquished by a muggleborn in a magical fight?"
She tilted her head as far as that was possible, lying on a pillow. "It wasn't about the fight. You didn't want to be defeated. But as enraged as you were, you still didn't really want to face the consequences of killing. You are too smart for that and too focused on saving your hide. You wanted me to prevent you from executing what your rage told you to do. You are no killer, Draco, and I'm glad for it. If you were, I'm pretty sure we wouldn't have matched. I can't be with somebody who doesn't value life, even if I'm in love with him."
Draco looked at her for a minute, processing what she had said. Not that she was in love with him, although that was a nice touch. Too late, Granger, he thought. I was in love with you first. When my friends see it, it has to be pretty obvious. But what he actually thought about was the way she had judged the situation last night properly and jumped in to protect him. She had protected Flint and Pucey effectively as well, but not for their sake. She had done it for his sake. Not many people had done that. His mother would have, he trusted her enough for that. His godfather Snape had done it. But Hermione Granger?
And now he owed her. He would have to do the same for her, jump into danger to protect her, to not be in her debt. For some reason, that didn't even irk him. Of course, he would. How could he not?
She saw it in the movement of his eyes, how he processed her words. She let him, stroking his cheek and his hair and her finger over his lips. When he was done thinking, he pulled her to him with full force and crushed her in his arms, breathing hard into her hair. Hermione held him back and endured that his crush was cutting off her oxygen and close to broke her rips.
"Thank you."
She nodded, choking. "Anytime."
When his breathing calmed a little and his arms slackened, she moved her mouth right over his ear and whispered: "I'm sorry for what you had to see. What can I do to help you now?"
He pulled back a little and she was sad to see his red rimmed eyes, looking sternly at her forehead in front of them.
"Draco," she exclaimed and pulled him close again, when tears pricked her own eyes. His face pressed against her, kissing his forehead, and his eyes, she murmured: "What can I do?"
He stilled her, finally, by his hands on her shoulders, and said hoarsely: "Keep me warm."
Hermione hmmmm'd, her chin on his forehead, her vibration going through him, she slung her limps around him, and he liked it, just as he liked the body heat coming from her and the feeling of her soft skin against his and under his hands and her perfect breasts right close to his mouth, even though they were covered. He liked almost everything coming from this woman. "Ginny said to keep you warm," she said. "I don't think she meant it literal, but there you have it. I'll see what I can do."
He snorted and freed his head a little. "Do you think it's another dimension of difference, warm and cold?"
She hmm'd again. "But you are not cold, Draco. Inside you are passionately hot. You just feel cold. And I think our compow is quite strong enough. We don't need to find more differences."
He pulled his arms around her tight again and pressed his face against her skin. "Well, I certainly don't feel cold when you hold me. On the contrary, I feel warmth flowing through me when I touch you."
"Hm, yes, I feel that, too," Hermione mused. "I wonder why that is. By the way, nice going with the spell capture. We knew we could break spells, we didn't know yet that we can actually capture them. Can you show me how to do that?"
"I wasn't really paying attention, Granger. I was out of my furious mind. I don't know how I did it," he snarled.
"Hm," Hermione mused. "Well, we'll figure that out in time. It's good to know that we can do it, though. Well, at least you."
Draco used the opportunity of her musing to explore her throat and neck thoroughly with his lips. Every last square millimetre to be exact. "If I can do it, you can do it, Granger. We are equal, remember?"
Hermione smiled. It was true but it was good to hear him say it. She let go of her thoughts and focused on the titillating things he did to her throat and neck. Until he halted suddenly, when a thought occurred to him.
"What do you think Dumbledore will tell us?"
Hermione sighed. "I have no idea. That's why we have to talk to him. I can't figure it out and it's driving me nuts."
Draco mulled something over in his mind. Missing his indulging kisses, Hermione asked: "Draco, what is it?"
"Remember what Pucey said? That's it's insane to love a muggleborn?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, but honestly, …"
But before she could say what one should obviously think of the stupidity of one Adrian Pucey, Draco spoke again, his face set in angry furrows.
"What if I am not in my right mind? What if they'll tell us that we did fall in love because of the compow?"
Hermione put a soothing hand on his shoulder. "Draco, the compow has nothing to do with it. You told me that."
He shook his head. "I said the compow didn't force us. But what if it has something to do with it? If we fell in love because of it?" What if the magic made him and he would lose this feeling if ever the magic stopped? What if it was all a fluke and it wasn't real to begin with?
Hermione rolled her eyes again. "That was my point exactly yesterday and before and you didn't want to hear it. You side tracked me on my fear of emotions. Now, that we are back to lovey-dovey, what would be wrong with it?"
He scrutinized her with narrowed eyes. "Are you able to tell exactly why you fell in love with me?"
She blushed. "Erm, I think so."
He waited. When she didn't say more, he prompted. "And?"
She wiggled uncomfortably. "What and? Are you?" She wasn't there yet, that she would openly gush about her reasons of falling in love with Draco Malfoy.
"And could it have something to do with the compow? Could magic have something to do with your reason?" He ignored her question. He wasn't able to answer it in one sentence. It was too complex.
She shook her head. "No. Well, only indirectly at the most."
He wasn't reassured. He moved on his back and rubbed his face with his hands.
Hermione urged him further. Her doubts quieted for once, her brain was fully functioning: "Look at it that way: if we had worked on something else together, we might have still gotten to know each other and fallen in love. Would you blame sick people in St. Mungo's for your falling in love, then?"
He groaned. "There wouldn't have been any connecting magic involved and it would have been clear that it was from our own free will."
Hermione shook her head sceptically. "You don't know that. You could have possibly blamed some magic happening in the hallways. We are magical folks, after all."
Draco snorted. "Unlikely, that. The thing is, we would have never worked together if not for the compow. If the compow didn't exist, I would have never gotten any closer to you because you would have remained "Granger the mudblood"."
Hermione sighed. She knew what he meant but it was idle to look at things that way. The compow did exist and they had worked together and now they were in love. Period.
"Draco, what's the worst that could happen if we fell in love because of the compow?"
"We would never know if we could have freely fallen in love. We would always feel manipulated into feeling something," he growled irritated, staring at the ceiling.
Hermione clucked her tongue. "And I know that you hate being manipulated. But would it change your feelings?"
"It might, knowing that my feelings are not natural."
She shook her head again. "No, let me rephrase that question. Would you want to feel any different than you feel now? Would you not want to be in love with me? Would you want to get rid of this feeling?"
He looked over, right into her warm eyes. Would he not want to be in love with this amazing woman who forced him to fight his demons? Who cared so much that she didn't waste a thought on possible consequences for herself fighting him down? Who even in overwhelming him and his magic was gentle and wanted to kiss him right after subduing him? Who was so strong that she was able to subdue him without harming or hurting him? Who locked horns with him for his own protection? Who didn't even want to explore it at length and bathe in her glory and knew exactly why their battle had happened? And didn't want to blame him for it? Merlin, he had it bad. Theo was right. But how could he not?
"No," he said therefore. "I wouldn't."
She smiled. Her smile was beautiful, when so freely given, and he had had so few opportunities to see it. He felt a tingling in his chest because of it.
"See? So even if they'd told us that the compow has something to do with it, it won't change a thing. "
He rolled over on his side to be able to scoop her in his arms again and smooched big, fat kisses on her smiling mouth. "Let's wait and see. Ignorance is bliss, so let's just indulge into our blissful sex-life as long as we don't know we are being magically induced to it."
But somehow the anticipation of the great resolution to their adjuncted magic distracted them. They found themselves mulling over things, remembering and reliving experiences they'd had together, and it did interfere with their shagging need.
Simply separating and staring into space, Hermione asked: "How many kids do you want?"
Draco shrugged. "I don't know. I want one boy for sure to carry on the name and I suppose it would be nice to have a little girl as well, as a minimum. But Malfoys don't usually beget girls. They are very rare. I wouldn't mind a whole house full of children. I'm rich enough to hire fulltime childcare if I need to get away and rest my tired head or want to enjoy time with my wife. But I really don't want to think about more responsibility right now, Hermione."
"Okay," she said, not in the least offended. "It's only ten. You can rest for another hour and then we have to get up to go and see Professor McGonagall."
"Hm," he made, nuzzling her shoulder. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to read a book that I had on my nightstand for months and haven't even cracked open yet, because you've kept me busy. And I wonder where the Daily Prophet is today," Hermione remarked.
He snickered. "As long as you stay in bed with me." To underline his point he put a hand on her breast and the other on her bottom to feel her up and went to work on her neck again.
Unfortunately, he was interrupted by an owl knocking on the window, carrying the Sunday's edition of the Daily Prophet.
With an "Oh. Finally." Hermione wriggled herself out of his embrace and crossed over to the window to let the owl in. Watching her open the window and shiver in the cold air that came in, taking the scrolled newspaper and paying the owl in just a sleep shirt that barely covered the essentials was enticing but not quite sufficient in Draco's opinion. But the view of her behind and the open window gave him ideas …
When she came back to the bed, Hermione was already perusing the headlines. "It's on page three. "Malfoy heir gives up his right for true love. Nott and Greengrass engaged"."
Diving back under the blanket that Draco lifted up for her, she quickly read through the article they had planted in the paper with the help of Rita Skeeter, to check for inconsistencies. "This all looks okay, she mentions the fact that Theo and Astoria were in love for a long time in secret but her parents pushed her to accept Malfoy, of course, well, you. When you realized how heartbroken she was, with her lost love, you went to Theo yourself and so on and so forth."
Draco pulled on a corner of the newspaper, wanting to see for himself. "Hold on, in a minute," Hermione mumbled. "What's this here? There's an addendum by Parvati Patil, called paddy whack." She read for a few seconds and then gasped loudly. "Oh my."
"What, Granger?" Draco asked alarmed, sitting up and ripping the paper away from her. There under the regular article by Rita Skeeter, where she had cited word for word what Draco, his mother, Theo and Astoria had fed her, on Hermione's advice, was a short addendum by Patil where she interviewed her friend Lavender Brown for the newest gossip.
"At the dinner party of one Harry Potter very unlikely guests were welcomed. As Lavender Brown, fiancée of Ronald Weasley who's the best mate of Harry Potter, tells me, Hermione Granger came with Draco Malfoy of all people. The same Draco Malfoy who just so heart wrenchingly has given up his fiancée to Theodore Nott. Is it possible that he simply found something better and needed to get rid of his betrothed?
"I doubt it," Lavender says. "I mean, we all appreciate what Hermione did, helping Harry to defeat You-know-who. But compared to Astoria Greengrass, she would rather fall short, wouldn't you say?
But there was something to the two. They couldn't keep their hands of each other and I was told they are magically connected. I would think, putting him under a spell is the only way Hermione Granger could end up with someone like Draco Malfoy.
But it is fishy that he discarded his fiancée for her. And that's not all. I saw her embrace my fiancé, Ronald Weasley, away from prying eyes, in the kitchen. Now, we all know that she had her claws in him for some time. Eventually, he was able to free himself and come back to me. The Golden trio went on a yearlong quest together and I can imagine that she put my Won-won under her spell during that time. We know she's a powerful witch. When they came back after the year, they got together, but it didn't last.
I think though, she'd like to keep her iron in several fires, in case the thing with Malfoy doesn't work out. We all know how love potions and - magic not always work reliably and Malfoy is not the most reliable of partners, is he?"
It remains to be seen what will come of that. It is well known that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger work together in seclusion at the Ministry to help the Aurors. But apart from his sentence to do work for the common good what reason could Malfoy have to be seen with Hermione Granger? This writer is certainly more than curious why they should appear together anywhere in public, apart for work reasons. Parvati Patil for the Daily Prophet.
"Bloody hell," Draco cursed, once he had finished reading. "That wench. No wonder Rita was so smug and obedient, the stupid cow. She already knew there was going to be something about us from Lavender. We played right in her hands." He looked up. "What are we going to do, Granger? Granger?"
Hermione had sneaked out of bed and put some clothes on while he was reading the article. She just came from her closet and was now about to leave the bedroom.
"Where are you going?"
Curtly she replied, her anger barely contained: "I am going to floo Harry and ask him to use his connections to give an interview. Looks like we'll have to give another one today. This time, the two of us and Harry."
Draco stared at Hermione with his mouth lightly open. "What about?"
Hermione frowned. "About our adjunction and what we've done so far with it and how well we fight. It's time to disclose it to the public. Harry will be happy to confirm that. And with any luck, we'll find out more when we talk to Professor Dumbledore later. It'll distract people from any relationship issues."
As soon as she had finished her sentence, she turned and left the room. Draco could hear her proceeding to the living room where she made more noise than necessary. He heard the whoosh of the flames come up and Hermione's voice calling for Potter. He looked back down to peruse the article again and mumbled to himself: "I love this woman. If she hadn't been a muggleborn, she would have made it in Slytherin."
.
.
A/N: It may seem odd after the Daily Prophet article and set-up of the interview, but they do have an appointment with McGonagall – and they intend to keep it. Pressing matters and all. The interview will come later. Just to keep you squirming in your seats.
.
When they arrived at Hogwarts two hours later, their old teacher, Professor McGonagall, greeted them already in the entrance hall and took Hermione's hands in both of hers.
"My dear Ms Granger, how have you been? It's so good to see you."
Hermione smiled at her favourite teacher. "Except for a short stay at St. Mungo's I've been well, how are you? Happy New Year, Professor."
"Ah, the work, the work. I heard about your stay at St. Mungo's. I'd like to hear more about the circumstances later. Mr Malfoy, how do you do?" Despite her friendly greeting, she looked at him sternly over her square spectacles.
"Quite well, Professor, thank you. Happy New Year."
"Thank you. Let's make our way to my office."
Climbing up the stairs to the higher level, McGonagall continued: "I have to say, Mr Malfoy, I was pleased but quite astonished to receive your Patronus with an answer from Ms Granger. Of course, I heard that you've been working together. But how is it possible that not only your Patronus changed, Ms Granger, but changed into a similar shape of Mr Malfoy's?"
Her beady eyes pierced her favourite former student. Of course, she wasn't nosy. Minerva McGonagall could never be called nosy. She knew her business and she stuck with it. But some things simply needed further explanation.
Turning a corner, Hermione hesitated, and looked at Draco for help. How to explain to her no-nonsense teacher the level of their relationship?
"Well, working our adjuncted magic to find Death Eaters, …" she started what was going to be a long tale of growing together, when she was interrupted by Draco.
"We are in love, Professor." He wasn't quite sneering his Malfoy sneer but he had a determined look, his jaw clenched, his eyes focused, ready to defend his right to love Hermione Granger against his former professor. He looked a little roguish with one of his blond locks falling into his eyes, so unusual for the usually impeccable Malfoy. "And we've been falling in love for quite some time. That's why Hermione's Patronus changed," he added, defiantly.
"I see," Minerva McGonagall replied, eyeing one of her least favourite students sternly while marching down the long corridor to the repaired gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office. It had been a pity. Such potential and nothing but pureblooded obstinacy in the boy. "Ms Granger, are you sure about this?"
The gargoyle jumped aside when McGonagall said: "Dumbledore".
Hermione swallowed. Leave it to McGonagall to become sentimental in light of the losses in the war and chose the name of a late colleague for her password. Well, not just any colleague.
Her old teacher had never been insensitive to other people's feelings. But Hermione felt standing up for her feelings to McGonagall so frankly was hard. She didn't want to see in the old woman's eyes the disappointment that Hermione had fallen prey to silly feelings for an unlikely candidate when she should be doing her best to rebuild the wizarding world. She hated disappointing her teachers. It was one of the reasons why she worked so hard.
But when she turned sideways and looked at Draco, who frowned because of her hesitation, she set her jaw. Just this morning she had felt the ache in her stomach and her heart swell because she loved this man and the time she spent with him. She deserved this break. Rebuilding could still be done tomorrow. And perhaps, they would be able to do something extraordinary, Draco Malfoy and she.
"Yes, I am," she said therefore. Her voice strong, she declared unerringly: "Absolutely."
Draco's face, well, his mouth twitched just the tiniest bit. But she could feel it through the compow, his relief. And she saw it in his eyes how the tension receded because of her acknowledgment. She smiled at him. Another twitch in his mouth indicated a back smile.
"I see," McGonagall repeated. Stepping off the spiralling staircase, she smiled. "I'll say, I didn't see this coming from your adjunction because of the circumstances of the time. But you will make a great couple. I'm sure of it."
Since this came rather unexpected from their former stern teacher, they both choked. "Really, Professor?"
McGonagall's smile became motherly. The pride of her former students was tangible. "But of course. You are both very talented. If Ms Granger's magic gets a little more focus from Mr Malfoy's, you'll be able to move mountains."
Hermione couldn't stop choking and swallowed hard. "You knew?"
"What did I know, Ms Granger?"
"You knew about our different approaches to use magic?"
McGonagall was confused. "Of course, I knew. I was your teacher. I saw you use it. It warmed my heart to see somebody like you being able to command and transform so much magic."
Hermione couldn't believe it. "Why didn't you tell me? Why is this never taught, these differences in handling magic? We could have learned so much so much earlier if I'd known."
"But, my dear child, most children who arrive here either already know or they have so many other, more important things to learn first. It's a part of your magic but not what makes you. If it becomes important to you, you will find out. As you already did, apparently." McGonagall didn't understand her upset. It was just one of the facets of magic.
Draco brought his front to Hermione's side and put one of his hands on her stomach and the other in her back, making soothing circles, and whispered in her ear. "Granger, it's not the most important thing. Calm down. We are here to speak to Dumbledore and Snape, remember?"
"Yes." Hermione inhaled deeply to calm herself. Looking up into his glacier grey eyes, she thought she felt his calm through their magic, steady as a rock. He was right. As blown up and shaken as he had been last night, as tranquil was he now, calming her. They seemed to be able to rely on it: whenever one partner was upset, the other was calm, and the other way round. A good balance. Taking another breath, she said: "Yes, that's right."
"So, before we proceed to lunch, what can I help you with?" McGonagall moved on, actually pleased to see how Mr Malfoy was able to calm an upset Hermione with very little effort and a very simple, if intimate touch. This bode well for them as a couple.
Before either of them could state their business, the office door opened again and in stepped Sybil Trelawney, shuffling a deck of cards in her hands.
"Minerva, upon a word, I just saw… ." She stopped abruptly when she saw that McGonagall wasn't alone.
"Happy New Year, Sybil. Could you come back later, perhaps in the afternoon? As you can see, I have visitors and they actually made an appointment with me."
"But … but… Ms Granger and Mr Malfoy? Oh, how beautiful."
Three pairs of eyes looked at her irritated. What was the old crow babbling about?
McGonagall tried not to look too exasperated but she only managed half way. She definitely couldn't keep it out of her voice: "What is it, Sybil?"
Trelawney stepped forward toward Draco and Hermione standing next to each other, with her hands held high like somebody who was going to worship on an altar.
"They are bathed in white and golden light. So much healing." Trelawney actually sounded as if she was close to tears. She came closer and closer to Hermione and Draco and Draco positioned himself half a step in front of Hermione because Trelawney looked positively spooky, like an enormous insect, with her usual amount of shawls and bangles dangling from her arms. She stopped short about two feet from them and tried to touch the empty air. Then she smiled sadly: "But of course, I cannot touch it." She let her arms sink down and shook her head. With a sad look at Draco and Hermione, she said: "It all makes sense."
Draco rolled his eyes. "And aren't we all glad that it does. At least to you."
Trelawney's sad smile turned to him. Her look reminded Hermione of the times when she had predicted Harry's untimely death and she couldn't for the love of Merlin keep her hackles from going up against the old bat. Which didn't help with openness at Trelawney's next words. "Yes, my boy. I always felt that you were somewhat hollow on the inside with all your riches and comforts from a pureblood family. I always wondered what was missing in your life, and now, that I see you standing here with Ms Granger, well, I see it."
Hermione couldn't hold her eyes from rolling up to the ceiling, although she tried really hard, she did. Her old Professor passed her sad smile onto her: "I know, Ms Granger, you were never quite open to the vibrations of the other world. But you do realize that there are sometimes forces at work that could not be considered entirely scientific, don't you?"
"Sybil, will you please try to explain?" Professor McGonagall admonished her colleague sharply.
"That's what I came to tell you, Minerva. The cards: The Tower, Death, the Lovers; again and again. Great changes are afoot, once again. And they have to do with these two, the lovers. Ah, you will be able to repay your debt, my boy, I can see it. So beautiful, this union."
If the old Divination professor had struck them with lightning, they couldn't have been more shocked. Hermione knew her to be an old fraud, except for these rare occasions when she channelled true prophecies. She had no reason not to believe Harry when he told her. But according to Harry's telling, on those occasions Trelawney wasn't quite herself. And today, she was clearly herself, and made even less sense than usual. Except for these few words, which rang in Hermione because she had heard them before in a different context. She had heard them in a dream concerning her and Draco, concerning their power, their compow, and what it was supposed to mean for them. Union. Debt. Repayment. Death.
"I'm afraid you are not making sense, Sybil," Professor McGonagall chastised the other woman.
"No." Hermione stopped her with a hand held out. "Please, Professor Trelawney. What are you talking about? What debt? What is this union?"
Sybil Trelawney was pleased somebody for once wanted to listen to her. And then her former, oh, so sceptical student, Ms Granger, of all people. She could have kept silent in spite against the doubt of her abilities from her former student, but she wasn't one to hold back her knowledge. She wanted to share what the inner eye revealed. The burden was heavy enough. She sniffed.
"Well, his karmic debt, naturally. In the services of He-who-must-not-be-named, he accumulated karmic debt, sharing in the negativity. But he can balance it out, with your help, as repayment. You are his balance. The white light envelopes both of you. The Tower, destruction, Death, changes, renewal. And then, the Lovers, connecting the roots."
Draco listened sceptically. He had never taken Divination, he had known Trelawney to be a less than adequate teacher. He had taken Ancient Runes instead. At least, there, with some logic deduction, you could find a proper translation. And yes, Granger had taken that as well and aced it as usual. How she did it, he never knew. But he felt vindicated when he looked at Trelawney at that moment. Even though she spouted words that reminded remotely of the shared dream and Granger seemed to have caught onto something, he couldn't believe that this old shrew should be able to contribute anything useful. Of all people.
He sneered: "Sorry, Professor, I don't believe in fortune telling. I believe in making it. Granger, do you really …," he started out, but was quickly silenced by Hermione's hand waving impatiently in the air. He shared a look with Professor McGonagall who was desperately looking for somebody in the room who hadn't gone around the bend. He shrugged.
"But the union? What is the union?" Hermione repeated.
"Well, it's you, you two. When you create a union, you discover the power. A powerful union. Like the Lovers."
Alright, that rang a bell. Powerful union. It had been in the dream. But how did she..?
"How does she know?" Draco murmured.
"That's what I'm trying to find out, you prat," Hermione hissed at him.
"Hey," he said.
"Wait," Professor McGonagall cut in. "You know what she is talking about?"
"Well, in a way," Hermione hedged. "There was a dream … .But it is a delicate matter and we came to discuss it with you and …"
While Professor Trelawney's face lit up, hearing about a dream, Professor McGonagall was quick to squelch her delight. "Say no more, Ms Granger. Sybil, as much as I appreciate your warnings and all, I must insist that you leave us for now. These two have made an appointment with me to discuss matters that are none of your concern. I'll be happy to see you in the afternoon."
"But, a dream, we'll need to interpret…" Trelawney started.
"If there will be any matter where we will need your … expertise, I will call you. Thank you, Sybil." With these kind but firm words it was clear that McGonagall expected Trelawney to get the drift. She did.
"Very well," she sniffed. "I shall keep myself available because I am very certain that before long you will need me in these dream matters. I am the only one who can explain to you clearly what it could mean because the horse speaks in a different tongue."
"Yes, Sybil, thank you. We will call you before Firenze, for certain; especially since he has a hard time coming up the stairs to the office. I'll keep it in mind."
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione called after her.
In being gently but firmly guided to the office door, Trelawney called back: "You are welcome, my dear. I knew you would eventually realize that you were mistaken," before the door closed behind her.
"I wouldn't go that far," Hermione mumbled to herself to Draco's devilish snicker.
"There," Professor McGonagall said when she joined them again. "You were saying …?"
"Well, we came to you for advice regarding our adjunction. We discovered many things about our shared, adjuncted magic but we still can't make hand or foot out of the information to discover what it is meant to do. We are certain it has a purpose. But as long as we don't know it, we don't know what else to do with it. It is very confusing and to make sense out of it, we hoped we could talk to you and Professor Dumbledore and Snape in their portraits," Draco explained calmly.
"And see, in addition, we had a dream, right after Draco's engagement, a shared dream and in it the phrases Professor Trelawney just used, were mentioned," Hermione added, a little less calmly.
"Well, I am certainly no expert in dream interpretation but why don't you have a comfortable seat and start by telling the dream and your discoveries?" Professor McGonagall stated with her usual calm and waved to her couch.
Draco and Hermione exchanged an uncertain glance. It would be difficult to recount the many details in the dream properly.
"May I make a suggestion?" a familiar voice cut in, from somewhere behind them.
.
A/N: Aaaaand, cut. I'm so sorry. For once I have to cut a running chapter in the middle. And this part is rather short in comparison. But the next part is very intense and when I wrote it, I always stumbled over the inequality of the two parts. I call them the Trelawney and the Dumbledore part. It's better this way, believe me.
Note: Trelawney, of course, is talking about Tarot cards: the Tower, Death and the Lovers are three trump cards in a tarot set. The white and golden lights are just auras, the colours white and gold stand for healing and protecting as far as I know. And I had to give her something to say and to "redeem" herself. Since the" powers that be" are not entirely scientific, she was the best person for those particular remarks. As Dumbledore was saying (is going to be saying), she has a purpose in the grand scheme of things. Hm, perhaps Lavender gets a chance to redeem herself as well? Nah.
So, up next the talk with Dumbledore and Snape.
I struggled to make the first part of this chapter fit to the newly written fight from the last chapter. I hope I succeeded.
And as usual, tell me what you think.