Author's Note: *peeks out from under the rock she's been hiding under* Same old story here I'm afraid. There's never enough hours in the day, and I've been struggling with this chapter. I hate to send anything out into the world until it's ready. I think this chapter is ready. And I might just have the momentum to try and get another one out this week. Starting a story is easy. Finishing it is hard. We're not quite at the end yet, but we're getting there. I'm also attempting to re-write a hundred help desk articles for work in the next 3 weeks. But over all, life is wonderful and I'm writing when I can. I'm hoping that what I've written tonight has helped me get over the block I was feeling with this chapter.

To everyone out there affected by Harvey, and by the flooding in South Asia…stay safe, and I hope help is on its way.


Chapter 55: Severing


Deciding to act and laying out all his options had taken him a while, but once he'd decided…it was easier. He'd simply requested a meeting with Theresa for the end of the work day. He didn't think that his face gave anything away, but the look of concern on Theresa's face said otherwise. Still, she told him to come to her office at 4:30 and have one of the volunteers cover the desk. Draco felt a little lighter.

He led the reading circle that day, complete with funny voices and gold stars. He didn't have to lead craft time, but he did get stuck with some of the tidying up. There were a slew of young people checking out books to get a little more fun reading done before the school term started back up. Beep…beep…beep…scanning book after book. Books on horses and books on castles. Several copies of The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Books with mice on the cover, wielding swords.

He settled into the extra chair in Theresa's office promptly at 4:30. He was cool. Collected. He was going to miss this place. "Well, what did you want to speak to me about?" Theresa asked. She wondered if he was having personnel issues with any of the new hires, or if he was looking for a raise. He'd been there a few months now, though it was a bit early to be asking for a pay rise already.

Draco steeled himself. He wanted to continue his life with Hermione, and this was the next step. "Theresa…I've really appreciated the opportunity you've given me the last few months. I realize I didn't come in with much experience, and you really took me under your wing. Unfortunately, I need to put in my notice. My girlfriend and I are relocating and I'm not going to be able to continue working here. I can stay until the end of the month and finish out the kids reading program, although if you find a replacement sooner and need me to leave sooner I understand."

There was a pause. Theresa hadn't expected the conversation to take this turn. It was possible that it was some sort of ploy for better benefits or working conditions, but he seemed fairly resolute. "There's nothing that might change your mind?"


There was a lightness to Draco's footsteps as he opted to take the long way home instead of Apparating. He stopped for flowers, and a bottle of wine. The sun felt a little brighter that day.

He and Hermione arrived home at nearly the same time; she Flooed in, he walked in the door. She was exhausted and there was a smudge of something unrecognizable across her cheek. She smiled wearily across the room at him. Her regular work with Belby hadn't slacked off in the least while preparing for her meeting in the forest with people with lycanthropy—there were dozens of potions they needed to prepare in addition to all their regular work. It was important to bring some Wolfsbane potions of course, but also, an array of healing potions. There were also some protective measures Belby recommended they take—a potion that would reduce their general scent to make them seem less threatening had been one suggestion. Hermione hardly thought she smelled, but as Belby pointed out—even the smell of her body wash would be a foreign scent for folks living rough.

Still, she eyed her boyfriend from across the room as they came in and a weary smile spread across her face. "You look chipper."

He smirked. "And you look like you've had a hell of a day."

"No one said this apprenticeship would be easy," she pointed out. She hung her bag on the back of the chair and allowed herself to drop gratefully into it. She had more work to get done tonight, but it could wait for a while.

"In fact, I distinctly recall a number of people trying to talk you out of it as a matter of fact."

She chuckled. "When have I ever let something as minor as that stop me?" She stretched her legs out under the table and rotated her neck. It was good to be home. She pulled out her wand and gave the kettle a double flick, filling it with water and starting it heating.

"None of that," Draco said, pulling his own wand out to stop the kettle from heating. "I had something else in mind. Tonight, we're celebrating."

"I hope the celebration involves you cooking; I don't have the energy to cook or get myself together to go out," she said dryly, watching him. She raised an eyebrow curiously.

Draco chuckled and set the wine bottle on the table before her and summoned a couple of glasses. "I'll pick up take out if you want. But first, we celebrate."

"And what exactly are we celebrating?"

Draco took her hand. "I put my notice in at the library. We can move any time after the end of the month wherever we want to go. And I've made an arrangement for Weasley to take me on as a consultant. I don't imagine it will be forever or every day, but it's a start. I've got my own vault, so it doesn't matter if Mother officially disowns me or not—anything I've made from the calling mirror sales will be where she can't touch it." He took a breath and looked at her, wiping the smudge of whatever the hell was on her cheek off. "I'm ready. Let's find a place and make it ours."

"You're ready?" Her heart flip-flopped a little. They were going to take the next step. Living together in a place that was theirs. It was a little soon to talk marriage—that could wait. They'd only been seeing each other six months. And they were readjusting to his having his magic back. One step at a time. But now…they could take that step. "Are you thinking renting a flat or one of the wizarding villages?"

"I think it'd do you some good to live in a wizarding village, but I don't care. We'll live wherever you want."

"We'll look and see what's available." She was nothing if not a realist. She knew there were advantages to living in a wizarding village—but also advantages to getting another flat in the city or the suburbs.

He looked at her with a sardonic grin. "I know you've been saving newspaper clippings on available rentals the last couple weeks. Go ahead and dig them out and I'll go pick up takeaway and bring it back."


Hermione was back on the miserable rock again. With less than a week until her meeting, time was running out. If Arnold had anything he could possibly add…she needed to know it. Most days she couldn't get much out of him, but she still came down a couple of times a week to try.

Arnold sat in his cell. It was in considerably better condition than the first time Hermione had visited. The furniture and blankets and his clothes were whole. He had been taking the wolfsbane potion she offered, and no longer tore himself to pieces during the full moon. Still, if he did need medical aid, it was provided now.

Sitting on a chair on the other side of the bars, Hermione looked at him. "I want to help. You know I do. What can I offer?"

"There's hardly anything you can offer that anyone would want. You're just one person."

Hermione knew she couldn't right the wrongs of centuries overnight. It was why she was asking for Arnold's advice. But she'd just as well ask the stones to speak some days. Telling her what she couldn't accomplish or couldn't offer wasn't helping. And sometimes, Arnold would go distant, and talk about the things he missed. Above all else, he missed the smell of trees…wet earth…the freedom to move. At that point, she wouldn't get anything else out of him. She couldn't tell whether he genuinely missed it all, or if he was hoping she'd get him released.

"I'm meeting with your friends in just a few days. Anything. Anything you can tell me that will help the meeting go more smoothly. I want to help, Arnold."

The man was unwilling or unable to give her much in the way of specifics. She didn't know if there might be a dozen people at the designated meeting point, or a hundred. There hadn't been much for her to do as far as contacting them ahead of time. At best, her option had been that she might be able to leave a note at the location an hope someone would find it and read it. They decided against it, weighing not wanting to startle the community against not wanting them too well prepared for strangers. The community shifted around a central location, depending on how much food was available, what time of year it was, and whose temper was running hot.

There were a handful of recognized authority figures, but no official leader. The de facto leaders tended to be the ones who either were willing to fight for it, or the ones with the most immediately sensible plan. Unfortunately the two were not always the same.

She was about ready to give up for the day when he did offer one gem. "Bring chocolate. They don't get access to much of that. And blankets wouldn't hurt. They might not say they need them, but they'll get used if you leave them." His mouth snapped shut, unwilling to say more for the moment.

The brunette witch nodded. "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind." She gathered herself to go. Honeydukes would have to be her next stop. She slowed a little as she passed the corridor that she knew led to Lucius's cell. She hadn't looked in on him since the disastrous dinner with Narcissa…no, it had been longer. Not since before Draco's hearing. She hadn't exactly been avoiding him…she'd just been busy. But she hadn't tried to make the time either. She paused briefly, looking down the hallway to her left; she let out a breath and turned, her feet moving quickly.

Lucius was in his cell, as expected. He looked up sharply at the sound of footsteps. The pace was too quick to be the guards ambling through their rounds. A smirk twitched in one corner of his mouth and didn't touch his eyes. "Miss Granger." He gave a mock bow and spread his arms, as though welcoming her to his Manor instead of to a cell.

"Lucius. It's been a while.I thought you might like some updates." She tried to keep her voice steady, looking around his cell. There were a couple of books she'd brought him previously; she couldn't tell if they'd been read, but with nothing else to do, she suspected he might have actually read them.

He nodded, moving his stool nearer to the bars and seating himself, trying to appear as at ease as if he was in a proper chair.

The young witch focused her attention back on the blond wizard. Time to get to the point. "I don't know whether anyone has told you yet, but Draco had his hearing in front of the Wizengammot. They've restored his magic. He's a free citizen again." She paused to let the news sink in and decide what to say next.

"He didn't come with you today?" There was a note in his voice Hermione couldn't quite decipher. Longing? Resignation? Hope?

"He didn't." She left it at that. She wondered whether she should say the next words, but said them anyway. "Your wife is back in the country."

Stiff-faced, Lucius nodded. "She has been to see me." He looked closely at the face of the Granger girl. She was not a beauty. But there was an intensity about her. A resilience. "Were you planning to tell me about yourself and Draco?"

"Are you really going to pretend you hadn't already suspected?"

He pursed his lips briefly. "No."

"Is that all you intend to say about it?" She arched an eyebrow. Narcissa had certainly had no end of words for them.

The blond spread his fingers in a helpless gesture. "I'm hardly in a position to say anything else on the matter."

"Au contraire. You are in the position to say anything you'd like; it won't exactly make your situation any worse." She wanted him to say something encouraging. Anything. It'd be nice to tell Draco that at least one of his parents hadn't raged on hearing they were together, but she wasn't going to give him any false hope. If Lucius had something to say, she'd rather he said it and have done.

Standing up, Lucius found himself looking down on Granger. "I can't say I'd have chosen you for my son, but then again, my choices have led me to this side of these bars. My son's choices have led him to you, and walking free in the world. There is something to be said for that. Perhaps his choices are better than my own." He picked up his stool and put it back in the corner of the room and turned back to look at Hermione through the bars. "I have some reading material to get back to, and from the fidgeting you're doing, I can see you have somewhere more pressing to be, Miss Granger." He crossed to his cot and picked up Persuasion from the small stack of books on the floor beside his bed.

Hermione nodded. "Good choice." She turned and left before either of them could say anything else. She had to get to Hogsmeade. She and Draco had looked a couple of cottages there. The thought of being in an all-wizarding village was tempting for her, but it was awfully close to Hogwarts and neither of them was sure they wanted to be quite that close to the school. The metaphorical ghosts were too thick there.


Draco was tinkering with one of George's creations. He said he'd had it on the workbench for eight months or so. It was designed to be portable extra other-space storage. Not unlike an undetectable extension charm, but smaller than a Knut, and needing fewer physical ties than an extension charm. The extension charm had to exist within a physical carrier.

So far, it wasn't going well, but…it was his job to fix the things that weren't going well. The remains of dinner still smelled faintly in the flat, and Draco couldn't move his chair back far without running into the bags and bags of blankets Hermione had brought home. They were going need a bigger place. Something with more than one bedroom so they could set up a proper workroom. Maybe two workrooms. He grimaced at the realization that whatever they got would have to be within what they could afford. Even after thrifty living for the last year, it was sometimes difficult to remember that he didn't have the inexhaustible Malfoy wealth behind him anymore. The sound of bubbling liquid brought his attention to the stove, where Hermione was brewing her another batch of healing potions.

"You're going to need a carriage and team of horses to carry everything you want to bring to that meeting."

"I don't need a horse. You'll have that other-space pocket working correctly by then, won't you?" she said cheerfully.

He snorted inelegantly. "Doubtful."

She peered at him over the top of the counter. He was working at the kitchen table. They needed to find a place where she could have a laboratory and he could get a workroom set up. "Do you want to call it quits for the night, or do you think you're nearing some sort of breakthrough?"

"Breakthrough? More like ready for a break."

She reduced the heat on her potion and put a lid on it. It was going to need to simmer for about 12 hours before it could be bottled. She found a bottle of wine and two glasses and they settled in on the couch together. "Are you going to see him?"

Draco continued a long sip as he deciphered her abrupt change of topic. Him…? Oh. Him. "I don't know. It's certainly more promising than my mother's stance, but…well, she has set the bar a bit low. It would have been hard to have a worse reaction than her."

Hermione shook her head. "Not at all. If he was set on it, I have no doubt he could have been much worse. But when I was leaving, he was reading one of the Muggle books I gave him. Not that he had much of anything else to do, but still…" She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I'd give anything to see mine again. You should visit him. At least once."

His whole chest felt tight at the thought. "I'm so angry him. And at her." How far back did he blame them? For forcing him to live with terrorists? For teaching him prejudice? For raising him spoiled and entitled? He wasn't sure how far back his frustrations went…but they should have done things differently. Should have done better by him. They were the adults.

"Draco…hating anybody is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. It won't do you any good. There are so many people out there I could hate—the man who killed Ron. The Aurors who didn't stop him in time. Voldemort for creating a movement that made hate and prejudice unafraid to walk the streets. Voldemort's mother for letting him be born? Where would it end?"

"It doesn't. It spirals." He raised his hand, threading his fingers through her hair. They sat in silence.