Disclaimer: I don't own this or make a profit off of it or anything exciting, ever. (Sad!)
A man's growth is seen in the successive choirs of his friends.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
"You've got to be joking, Perce," George said, sitting down hard. He stared at the report the other man had placed before him, astonished. Never mind that he was already tired and tense; it was two in the morning and he was still at work, after all; but now his older brother had gone and thrown him a real bludger.
"Do you think I'd joke about this?"
"No, but what is this, honestly? Are you still carrying some grudges? Got a thing for Hermione, what?"
Percy looked at his brother like he'd grown two heads. "Hermione? How does she even enter the equation- oh. OH. You mean she and Malfoy- but that's obscene! Harry's not even been gone- you know what, it's none of my business. You're not baiting me that easily." He sat down across from George. "No, I am not after Hermione, you perv, and I could care less who is, aside from Hooper since I still don't trust him. I'm not still carrying any grudges, for that matter, although I think you would be wise to carry a few of your own. You're too damned trusting for the prankster you are, you know that?"
George sighed and set the papers down. "I know, I know," he replied. "But…Draco?"
Percy sighed. "It's all conjecture, George. I didn't say I suspect the man. I'm just saying that it's a theory and it wouldn't be too far-fetched for the investigators to jump to the wrong conclusions. It wouldn't be the first time they did, would it?"
"No, that's true," George admitted. He frowned and looked back up at Percy. "So this is it? My only options are a completely goblin related scare, or an inside man setting up Muggle Relations, or a Muggle Relations man framing an inside man to set up the ministry?"
"Yes. Well, they're your best options, at any rate. You really don't want to hear the other crazy things I came up with. They're completely mental."
George looked at him with a strange gleam in his eyes. "Oh, I think I do want to hear them. If this is the best you can do…"
"Hey, you asked for it. I'm just being honest with you, for once. It's not my fault you hired a one man think tank."
"No, you're right, and I'm sorry for pressuring you. So, judging from what you've said, Hooper is still our best bet."
"I recommend you detain him immediately," Percy nodded.
"What? Hermione would kill me…he's apparently a saint for her department. I really don't want to do that to her right now, not when she's in such a state- twins, Viola, Malfoy, the trial, Harry…I can't do that to her. Can't you see it now?"
Percy shook his head. "And you thought I made a mistake three months ago…you'll regret it, George."
His younger brother's face grew grim and he stood up. "I may, but it's something I'll have to live with. How much damage can the man do over the week-end? He thinks he's practically won, after all. He won't do anything to jeopardize his position before the trial."
"Promise you'll do it first thing Monday, then?"
"First thing Monday," George promised. "Thanks, Percy. You've been a big help."
"I've been something, at least, which is more than I did before. Look, I'm sure things will turn out alright this time. I wish I could do more for you than I have, actually. I'm still trying to figure out what went wrong when I was in office. I was such a fool- and don't interrupt me, I know perfectly well what you all think of me. I know it's in me already to be a complete ass, but this was different. I should have listened to you, I should have seen the signs sooner and I didn't and I'm sorry." Percy paused and took a deep breath. "There. That's a proper apology. Don't you dare make me take it back."
George's eyes widened, bewildered. "I wasn't going to- actually, you're completely right, Percy. I can't believe I didn't think of it before. I mean, with emotions riding as high as they were and your previous record, well, it's no wonder we didn't think of it, but really-"
"What are you on about?"
"A spell, Percy. A spell. A hex, a charm, something."
"What…like- oh, you can't really think that. I mean, as nice as it would be for me to have my name cleared…there's no way you can test for something like that at this point, is there?"
"Bloody hell, yes there is. Come on, there'll be some aurors on duty tonight. We'll get them on it straight away." With that, George grasped Percy's upper arms and steered him out of his office and down the hallway. Clearly, their work would never be finished until they overturned every damned stone. And if his older brother's Confunded and Imperioused head didn't count as a stone, he didn't know what would.
While George, Percy and several disgruntled aurors worked tirelessly through the night and well into the next day, Hermione was busy getting a good night's sleep and wondering what to do with her Saturday. She woke up with a bee in her bonnet about something, but the dream was wispy and escaped her memory before she could even pull it out for review. Discouraged, she spent half the morning stomping about while she cleaned, ignoring Crookshanks' ploys to get her attention. Viola ignored her mummy's strange behavior by watching morning cartoons; but when the cat finally ran hissing from Hermione's path and straight into her lap; covering her in fur and making her lose her juice all over the floor; she decided she'd had enough.
"Mummy!" she exclaimed and Hermione stopped in her tracks.
"What is it? Oh, darling, I'm so sorry! Here, let's get a towel for that- oh, hell, I'm a witch, never mind," she babbled before flourishing her wand and sending the apple juice into oblivion…or wherever it was things went when they were cleaned with magic. Hermione still wasn't sure about that one. It would have taken another two years of Physical Magic to get it down and by that time the war had been in full swing.
"Mummy, you need to get out more," Viola declared rudely, sticking her nose in the air, arms akimbo and Hermione blinked at her a few times before dissolving into laughter. "I'm serious!" the little girl exclaimed, stamping her feet.
"Oh, I know you are, love, I just- whoo! Oh, Merlin, I'm a mess, aren't I?" Hermione hooted. Viola rolled her eyes and sat back down in front of the telly. It was clearly time to ignore her mum again.
Hermione sat on the couch behind her and let herself relax some. It had been a tense Friday, as much as she'd enjoyed seeing Draco. Though they were all in order for the trial, she couldn't help the nagging worry about Draco's department and Hooper. Something bad was going to happen, she could feel it. But then she'd just be sick and assume it was the pregnancy and not her sixth sense. Her mind drifted to yesterday's lunch. Friends…with Draco. It was a nice idea, it really was. Thoughtful, sweet. Adult. Mature. It practically made her sick again, just thinking about it. The truth was, though, that as confused as she was about her feelings, she knew he was right. They'd only ever been mortal enemies or star-crossed lovers. It was either at each other's necks or necking. There had to be some common ground, some balance, if they ever wanted things to work out in the long run. And there it was, the reason they were trying to be friends in the first place: because they wanted it to work out in the long run. That had been the unspoken agreement between them, starting yesterday. An acknowledgement that somehow meant even more than that passionate kiss.
Hermione liked it. It was responsible of them, she thought, and responsibility was definitely something that had always been a bit of a turn on for her. She smiled smugly, thinking of Draco's reactions to her. Apparently it was something he found exciting as well. Who would have thought? They had far more in common than she'd ever imagined, even given their tumultuous relationship a decade ago. She came out of her daze to find Viola twisted about on the floor, staring up at her.
"What is it, pumpkin?" she asked.
"You have a funny look on your face, Mummy."
"Do I?" Hermione's hand came up to her lips and found she was smirking. She laughed again. "Come on, let's get dressed. Would you like to go for a little trip today?"
Viola's eyes lit up. Time spent with her mummy was always better than watching cartoons. Her mummy was the best, after all.
"Where?" she asked, excited.
"It's a surprise," Hermione replied before scooping her up off the floor and carrying her back to the bedroom amidst giggles and squeals of protest. "Shower time!"
Draco padded down the stairs and into the kitchen to find Barclay up already and seated at the bar, legs dangling in the air. There was the smell of crepes in the air and Draco looked at his son suspiciously.
"And how did you get up there, young man?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"Shackleton," Barclay replied, his wide blue eyes open and innocent. "He's making blueberry crepes!"
Draco's face creased into a smile and he swooped down to give his son a kiss on the forehead before he wandered over the busy house elf. "Crepes, eh?" he murmured, inspecting the pan. Shackleton held the skillet away from him, sniffing disdainfully.
"You can wait your turn with Master Barclay, over there if you please," he said imperiously, waving the spatula.
Draco laughed and moved away to join his son at the bar. "Alright, alright. I'm gone. So, how is everyone this morning?"
"Good," Barclay announced, digging into the first plate of crepes that the house elf set before him. The older creature looked over at Draco and winked before turning back around.
"Coffee, Sir?" he asked and Draco smiled.
"Of course. Wouldn't want to start the day without it. So, Barclay," he said, taking the cup handed him, "what do you want to do today, aside from stuff your face?"
"Da-ad!" he groaned around a mouthful of the pancakes and Draco let out a chuckle. He couldn't believe the good mood he was in, personally. It was like, after yesterday, the clouds had finally broken. He had a plan. Even thinking it was enough to make him smile. His new friendship was off on the right foot, his department was salvageable and he had made the decision to join the Mungo's group. He was being…proactive and it felt pretty great, despite the momentary lapses in mood. Like last night, after putting his son to sleep back in his own bed in the room Pansy had decorated, he'd stood in the doorway and watched him that extra moment before turning to his right. As if he expected to see Pansy standing there, smiling up at him after tucking their son in for the night. He'd almost leaned over before he remembered there weren't any lips there for him to kiss anymore.
There would be new lips, but it would never be the same…something he supposed he was actually very grateful for. The thought passed over his mind like a fleeting shadow, however and he was able to focus in on Barclay again easily enough. He would mourn the dead appropriately, he knew, but he also had to celebrate what was left: his son, a living testament to Pansy and their relationship. Just like he would honor Harry's memory by being a bloody gentleman about Hermione, for once. It was the only way to do things, no matter what his giddy-as-a-teenager hormones were telling him.
They had finished breakfast and Draco was helping Barclay struggle into a sweater when the doorbell rang.
"Shackleton!" Draco called as he held the sweater still while Barclay wriggled his arms into it. His little head had just popped through the top when the house elf appeared beside them.
"Visitors for you, Sir, in the front parlor." he said and disappeared again as quickly.
"But- oh, alright," Draco sighed. He took Barclay's hand and surveyed the boy's outfit. Blue sweater, brown courduroys…his son would never shame him in the pages of Witch's Weekly, of that much he was certain. Barclay stared up at him.
"Can I come too, Daddy?" he asked and Draco nodded.
"Of course. Got your shoes?"
Barclay held them up for inspection and then the two of them trudged down the stairs, Draco holding his son's hand as the boy jumped down every step. They were both laughing again by the time they reached the bottom and walked into the parlor, smiles on their faces, Barclay caught up in his father's arms as he pretended to make Quidditch noises.
"Draco?" came the hesitant, but happy voice of one of the visitors and he paused, Barclay hanging half out of his arms, giggling madly.
"Hermione!" he responded, surprised. Viola and Barclay both exclaimed at the same time and Draco quickly let his son down and watched him run over to the girl, taking her hand and dragging her over to the sofa. The children took seats right next to one another and Barclay immediately pulled a book off the table in front of them and began flipping through it, asking Viola if she'd seen it yet. Draco recognized it as one of the fairy tales Pansy had bought him a year ago and he felt his heart constrict a little before it settled down and he turned to face Hermione.
Hands in his pockets, he looked at her calmly, a smile still on his lips. "This is unexpected."
"Nonsense. This is what friends do, isn't it? Pop in on each other to make play dates with the kiddies?"
He raised his brows. "I guess you're right," he said slowly. "I hadn't thought of it that way, but yeah. Well, nice to see you, anyway."
"You, too," Hermione answered. She looked as at a loss for words as he felt and he smirked. She rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop it, Draco," she murmured, stepping forward and throwing her arms about his shoulders to hug him. "It is good to see you, and Barclay too." She hugged him tightly and he was stiff at first, then leaned forward and relaxed, putting his arms about her as well.
So…hugging Hermione was nice, too. He didn't have to snog her all the time in order to show affection. Grown up friends did hugs, didn't they? He smirked again as he pulled away and surveyed her. She seemed to grow self-conscious for a moment before making a visible effort to shrug it off. They wanted to be comfortable with one another, didn't they? Well, grown women didn't blush like little girls when a man stared at them in a friendly manner.
"So, I hope it's not a problem that we're here," Hermione offered. "Vi and I wanted to get out of the flat and we were on our way to the park when she mentioned Barclay for the eleventh time, so…"
"Here you are," Draco supplied. "No, it's not a problem. He's been making leaps and bounds since the other night, actually. Still needs a bit of a nap in the middle of the day, but we're going to work that out with the school nurse. So he should be able to start back next week. It was amazing, how well he was yesterday morning. I think more time with Viola is just the thing, actually."
"Oh, wonderful," Hermione sighed. "I was worried about that. She's so attached to him…"
"She is, isn't she? He's a complete sot for her."
The same thought struck them and they turned to look at each other, brows raised in concern.
"You don't think-"
"I'm not going to think about it at the moment, no," Draco replied firmly. "They're babies. Although when I was his age…"
"Draco!" Hermione exclaimed before stifling a laugh. "Alright, well…we really wanted to know if you'd like to come to the park with us. Ginny and Neville are meeting us there for lunch after a while."
"Hmm…spend time with you and your watchdogs? No, thank you." He spared a glance at her and saw her frowning at him dangerously. "Kidding! It sounds lovely, actually. I'll let Shackleton know."
"Wonderful," Hermione breathed with relief. "I already told them you would and I was worried of you said no that I'd have to eat double."
"Aren't you doing that already?" Draco said slyly, eyeing her as he walked to the door.
"Draco!" Hermione flushed to the roots of her hair. She had the feeling she was going to be very tired of his name by the end of the day. Draco, on the other hand, had the feeling he'd never get tired of the way she said it.
AN: I went to see HBP today and was inspired. OMG, I love Draco. Was Tom Felton not fabulous? So introspective! So subtle! So obviously in pain and needing a cuddle! I LOVED it. For the most part. I have to admit that I was a bit squidgy on some of the changes they made and yet they didn't change that stupid, dumbass cave scene with the drinking of the poison and the water and the zombies. I wanted ZOMBIES, man. Like, NotLD zombies. Bloody Inferi (sp?). Not nearly as interesting. Still, that part beat watching Harry drag the shiny, crystalized oyster shell to and from Dumbledore. That was...special.
And...cookie!
