Author's Note: I cannot thank you all enough for your patience since the last update. My break was much needed, and I am pleased to share that I am feeling much better and refreshed. Hope you all aren't too mad about the cliffhanger I left you on for a few months! But forget my chatting. You waited long enough. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. I promise the next update won't be several months away again ;)
Love as always to LightofEvolution for supporting me through everything.
Hermione sat in her armchair, leg bouncing as a book laid forgotten in her blanket-covered lap. It was growing close to midnight and she had yet to hear from Draco.
Her eyes were transfixed on the ink black sky. Soft glimmers of starlight speckled the dark expanse, still no sign of an approaching owl. Draco had told her his parents would be back at the Manor in time for their traditional family dinner, but that should have been hours ago.
Knots twisted in her stomach. She didn't know what that meant.
Suddenly, there was a pounding on her door, and Hermione jumped in her seat. Pulling the book and blanket off her lap, Hermione rushed to the door.
Her heart stammered when she opened it and revealed Draco on the other side. The fringes of his hair were in unusual disarray, and his eyes were dark and distant. He didn't say a word as he allowed himself entry, dropping his heavy luggage with a thunk.
A hundred questions raced through her mind. How had he gotten into her building? Had he followed someone inside? Apparated directly to her flat door? And what was he even doing here? This wasn't the plan. He was supposed to go to Theo's. What had happened with his parents? Why the change?
Concern built inside Hermione like layers of hundred-pound bricks. She doubted his presence meant anything good.
Draco marched into her sitting room, gripping the roots of his hair. "I can't believe him!"
Hermione gave him space as he began to randomly pace, like he was unable to settle upon a path or direction. She could practically hear for herself all the awful, disparaging things his father must have said in the conversation leading up to his departure. The cruel words that were festering inside his mind. The final comments his father may ever say to him now that Draco was most-assuredly disowned.
"I can only imagine how terribly your father reacted," she attempted to comfort him, seeing the boiling outrage in his eyes, "but it's over now."
Draco froze, facing away from her. Blanch white fists clenched by his sides.
Silence.
Hermione's stomach dropped. While their time together had been short, she had known Draco for years. She understood him. And she understood what his silence meant as well.
Throat running dry, Hermione took a single step forward. Fraught tension stiffened Draco's shoulders.
"It is over, isn't it?"
But even as she said it, she knew what the response would be.
"No, it's not."
For a fleeting moment, Hermione feared that Draco had once again avoided broaching the subject, but his tone was too clipped. His demeanour too rigid. And when he started to pull a folded-up parchment out from his pocket, the floor of her stomach completely gave way.
"He didn't," she gasped.
Draco slowly turned around. A thin veil of glossiness sheened over his gaze, but his words were still tight. "He did."
Everything went numb as Draco outstretched the parchment for her to read. With each new word of the signed marriage contract, disgust amassed even greater inside her, like a toxic bile. The past few weeks had only further demonstrated how loathsome and despicable of a man Lucius Malfoy was, but this seemed low, even for him.
Hermione thought back to the night before. It had been too good to be true — a night with just her and Draco in the Manor. She should have suspected something. Expected Lucius not to uphold his supposed promise to wait until Sunday for Draco to make a decision.
And then she remembered the owl.
"He tried to warn you, didn't he?" she asked, her mind a tangled web of enraged thoughts. "That letter this morning..."
Draco looked away, his nose wrinkling. "And the one he sent after you left."
"He sent you two?" Hermione gawked in disbelief. "Yet you didn't think it wise to perhaps read what your father found important enough to owl you twice?"
He whipped his head in her direction, a redness creeping up his neck. "I thought I could trust him, alright?"
"He had already proven that he was willing to stop at nothing to get you married to some pureblood," she said with a huff. Hermione lowered her head as she shook it, disappointed in both herself and in Draco for not seeing this coming. "I should have insisted you opened that letter. I had a feeling it was important!"
"Well, congratulations. You were right!" Draco bitterly snapped. "Happy?"
Her heart shattered at the spiteful anger marking his features, directed fully at her. For a splinter of a second, she felt like she was back at Hogwarts, on the receiving end of one of Draco's antagonistic taunts. But when the tears broke free from the corners of his eyes and he collapsed on her sofa, she rushed to the side of the wizard she knew to no longer be that cruel boy.
He cradled his head in his palms, voice weak as he repeated, "I thought I could trust him."
Gently, Hermione rested one hand on his back and the other on his knee as the tears turned into sobs.
"I know you did," she whispered. "I know you did."
A clamp tightened around her heart, watching Draco endure such agony. While Hermione had never liked his father, she had always known how much younger Draco had revered Lucius. He had thought the world of him. She couldn't begin to fathom how much such a betrayal stung.
When the crying started to subside, Draco lifted his head and sat upright. Puffy redness ringed his eyes. "I deluded myself into believing my father would keep his word. That I could trust him that infinitesimal amount," he choked. "Clearly, I was wrong."
The bob of a thick swallow travelled down his throat before he turned to Hermione. "I understand if you're upset with me. I'm upset with myself. But this contract is signed now, and if you and I want the chance to truly see what this could be between us, then I'm going to need your help."
Us.
The full weight of everything began to sink in. Her mind had been so focused on what this meant for Draco, she hadn't yet considered what it meant for them. They had only recently realised how much they meant to one another, and now Draco was legally committed to another witch. Sure, they could keep their mid-workday visits and endless chats about books. The explorations of Muggle London and mindless wanderings of the streets, as well. But the burgeoning feeling behind it — that would have to change.
Hermione searched the face of the man she had grown to care about so deeply. The blond hair that had splayed in the grass of the Muggle park that one afternoon. The grey eyes that twinkled with delight whenever she made an insightful remark or teasing comment. The cheeks that she knew revealed a dimple only when he was happy enough to be with her. And the lips. The lips she wanted so desperately to kiss right now but couldn't.
"I'm not upset," she managed, her voice softly breaking. "We always knew this wouldn't be easy. Now it's just a bit harder. But we'll find a way out of this."
Draco weakly chuckled. "That's precisely what I told my parents we'd do."
Their eyes met, and the aching in Hermione's chest ever-so-slightly dissipated. She had helped Ron and Harry get out of countless problems in the past. That's all this was. Another problem for her to help someone overcome. And she wouldn't stop until a solution was found.
Sniffing back her own tears that had threatened to reveal themselves, Hermione cleared the fog from her mind and attended to the new task at hand.
"There must be books on pureblood marriage contracts, right? I can't remember ever reading about them before, but it's not as though it was a subject I was particularly seeking out."
But to her disappointment, Draco shook his head. "Purebloods keep certain traditions private, especially ones so integral to maintaining blood purity."
"Okay," Hermione settled, though a bit taken aback that this wouldn't be something she could so easily research. "Then we'll just have to talk with whoever we know inside pureblood culture who would be willing to help us. Theo? Astoria? Blaise?"
"I doubt they'll know much more than me," Draco returned. "We were taught the expectations, not the intricacies of what the contracts themselves contain." He let out a long sigh. "What we really need is someone who successfully avoided this whole rubbish business."
The words had barely left his lips when Hermione instantly lit up, the same person seeming to cross Draco's mind as soon as he himself had said it.
"But I've never spoken to her."
"I have. Multiple times," Hermione said. A spark of hopefulness started to swell inside of her. "She's raising Harry's godson."
"So you know where she lives?"
Hermione nodded.
Draco pushed himself off the sofa, a new wave of determination radiating off of him. "Then we better get going."
...
Draco's feet landed on soft grass, the outline of a quaint, one-story home not too far up the path. The moon illuminated their surroundings, clearly no longer anywhere near London. He shifted his gaze upwards, finding minimal peace in the vibrant stars that he used to find such comfort in.
Only a week had passed since he had searched the night sky from the Weasleys' backyard. In the moments following his first kiss with Hermione, the constellations he used to cherish had left him feeling devoid of any deeper connection. He knew then that his bond with his family and its long line of traditions would never be the same. Now his best hope for future happiness laid with the only other living family member who had dared to defy expectations in the same way.
The cool touch of Hermione's fingers interlacing with his pulled him out of his thoughts. She offered him a soft smile that did little to move her cheeks. A tightness gripped his heart as he gave her hand a squeeze and they began walking up the path and towards the home.
Darkness cloaked the windows, everyone inside assumedly asleep. But when the knocks of Hermione's fist echoed within, it wasn't long before the front door swung open.
From the shadows, the Black sister resemblance was terrifying. With her strong jaw, thin lips, and heavily-lidded eyes, there was a brief, heart-stalling moment when Draco actually thought she was his Aunt Bellatrix. But as she stepped into the moonlight, he recognised the soft brown hair of the Black sister he had only heard mention of in clipped passing.
Similar shock marked Andromeda's features, undoubtedly able to identify him from his trademark family features as well. His pale blond hair and cool grey eyes would make it obvious who he was, even if she had never seen one of the dozens of photos of him that had been plastered in the Daily Prophet since the end of the war.
Her stunned expression grew even more confused when she noticed Hermione by his side. She blinked once, twice, and then looked down to see their fingers still laced together.
The wariness in her expression promptly faded, replaced with instant understanding.
"Come in," she said. "I'll put a kettle on."
...
Andromeda silently sipped her tea as Draco and Hermione recounted their past few weeks together.
They started at the beginning, sharing how their feelings had quickly developed for one another while Draco's parents played puppet-master in the background, trying with increasing ferocity to lock their son into a pureblood union. Draco spared no detail, ranting about the stream of proposal letters that would spoil his meals and the soirée his parents had orchestrated in an attempt to shove as many potential wives into his unaccepting arms. How all he wanted that night was to introduce Hermione to his parents, to open the small sliver of a crack at the possibility of them accepting a Muggleborn, only for the night to end in disappointment in more ways than one. Their first kiss the next night. His father's threat and unyielding deadline. The events of earlier that evening.
"And now, all thanks to my father, I'm bound to this stupid, bloody contract!"
Draco shoved back the fringes of his hair that had fallen over his eyes while he had raged. Hermione sat beside him on the couch, her hand firmly planted over his knee — a steady reminder of her solidarity while the anger rushed through his veins.
Andromeda sat across from them, one leg aristocratically tucked behind the other as she delicately blew the steam away from her recently re-heated cup. It may have been decades since she had associated with her pureblood past, but subtle traces of her upbringing remained highly visible.
She took a short sip before gently returning the cup to the saucer. "I'm afraid I understand your predicament all too well, Draco," she said. "I wasn't much older than you when I endured similar challenges."
"So what did you and Ted do?" Hermione asked.
Andromeda paused, a rigidity straightening her posture even further upright. Subtle sadness glazed her eyes as she averted her gaze to a framed photograph sitting on a nearby table.
Three smiling figures beamed in the picture, a younger version of his aunt, a wizard around the same age, and a teenage witch who laughed while her hair shifted from bright pink to deep purple. Draco remembered hearing snippets about his cousin. Even Voldemort himself had made occasional snide comments about her, particularly after she had married the former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Draco also remembered seeing her lifeless body laying next to her husband in the wake of the final battle. And the mention that her Muggleborn father had been murdered by a group of Snatchers.
"I was about your age when Ted and I began dating," Andromeda began, hands twisting in her lap. "He was a few years older than me, so we didn't interact while at Hogwarts." She shortly laughed. "Not that I would have spoken to him if our paths had crossed. It was only after I left Hogwarts that I began to see the errors of my family's ways."
Draco couldn't contain his curiosity. "What changed?"
Andromeda smiled. "I met Ted."
The sadness faded from her vision, joyful memories seeming to win control. "We met through a mutual friend, and from that very first night, I was completely enamoured." Happiness sparkled in her gaze. "He was so kind and loyal and unlike any of the pureblood males my parents had begun trying to set me up with. It wasn't until after our third date that I learned he was a Muggleborn. But by that point, I didn't care. I already knew Ted was the one for me."
A sharp pang seized inside Draco. The story felt far too familiar.
"So what happened?" he asked. "How'd you avoid getting roped into a contract."
"I left," she answered simply. "My father had already signed away my older sister into a loveless marriage with Rodolphus, and I didn't want to risk a similar fate. Ted and I had only been dating a couple months, but I loved him. With all my heart. So as soon as I learned that my father had sent out a proposal letter on my so-called behalf, Ted and I eloped."
Draco dropped his jaw. His mother hadn't told him any of this. "How did your parents react?"
Andromeda chuckled. "I'm sure I needn't go into much detail about how displeased they were. My mother was horrified that I would bring such shame to the family name. My father stormed into the Ministry and made every attempt to bribe or blackmail whoever he could into nullifying our marriage. I found out years later that they even went searching for me and Ted to kill him and drag me back home. But we had already feared and anticipated the worst from my parents. Ted and I remained hidden at his parents' home in Leeds until enough time had passed and the rumours of me having married a 'Mudblood' had successfully damaged my pureblood reputation beyond repair."
Stunned silence settled over both Draco and Hermione. His Grandfather Cygnus had passed away when Draco was young. It was hard to imagine the elderly man he knew to be his loving grandfather to be so cruel to his daughter. But then again, nothing should surprise Draco after what his own father had done. Clearly, some things were considered more important than the happiness of one's child.
Hermione, however, seemed to be focused on something else. She had that scrunched wrinkle in her forehead, the tell-tale sign that she was deep in thought.
"Then you never had to get out of a signed contract," she eventually concluded.
Andromeda shook her head. "Fortunately, I did not, so I'm afraid I won't be of much assistance getting you out of one if that's what you hoped out of this visit."
Draco hadn't yet made that connection, too wrapped up in the family history he had never been privy to. But that didn't seem to be what concerned Hermione the most.
"And even though you were married to someone else, your parents still made every effort to eventually rope you into a pureblood marriage, going so far as trying to find you and bring you back?"
Mutual understanding of whatever Hermione was getting at seemed to dawn on Andromeda's features. "To many pureblood patriarchs, the appropriate marriage of their child is the most important thing. It preserves the family legacy."
Draco finally caught on, comprehension numbing his system. "You think my father will come looking for me?"
Hermione glumly nodded. "It makes sense."
Draco didn't have a retort. Of course Lucius would come looking for him; he had signed a legal agreement to have Draco marry Aimée. The man had too much self-respect to let the contract go unfulfilled — especially if he saw the marriage of his son to a witch of another strong pureblood family as the key to revitalising the Malfoy family name.
"Then we'll go into hiding," Draco said, determined not to let his father win. He took Hermione's hands. "You and I will find a place to hide until the sixty days are up. If they can't find me, they can't conduct the marriage bond. And in the meantime, we can research how to undo the contract."
The possibilities swam through his mind but were promptly shattered when Hermione slipped her hands out of his grip.
"I can't," she said, regret heavy in her voice. "I have work."
"Of course you do," Draco returned, not sure how that was relevant. He wouldn't dream of tearing Hermione away from her job. What she was doing for young wizarding education was vital in raising a more open-minded future generation. "You'll go to work, and then after, you can come to wherever I am, and we'll work together until—"
Hermione was already shaking her head. "I can't know where you're hiding, Draco, in case your father attempts to get your location out of me."
"What do you think he'll do?" Draco refuted. "Torture it out of you?"
But Draco immediately knew he'd said the wrong thing. Her face blanched, undoubtedly remembering what his other aunt had done.
She swallowed thickly. "Don't think he isn't capable. He's proven to be a deluded man who has already gone to such extreme lengths to ensure this contract goes through." Hermione regained her full composure. "And even if he doesn't resort to that, there would be other means of using me to find you. Latching onto me while Apparating. Veritaserum. Memory extraction. It's too risky."
Draco's head was spinning, the severity of the situation fully sinking in. It stung to accept, but Hermione was right. They couldn't risk it. He'd have to hide alone.
Sixty days of hiding without seeing Hermione? It'd be agonising.
But sixty days without her was better than a lifetime married to someone else.
"I can set up a safe house for you," Andromeda offered in what felt like the distant background. "We'll protect it with a Fidelius Charm, and I'll be the Secret Keeper."
His gaze swept to Hermione who was already looking at him, awaiting his response.
"If you're worried about your father coming after me, don't be," she said, tone strong with resolve. "I'm more than capable of protecting myself."
Draco couldn't resist his resulting chuckle. "I'd be more worried about what you'll do to him if he even dares approach you."
Hermione shared in his laughter. "See? Nothing for you to worry about!"
But their laughter was short-lived and reality quickly caught up to them. The tears that he could tell Hermione was fighting desperately to hold back reflected softly in the candlelight as one began to trickle down her cheek. With the brush of his thumb, Draco swept it away.
"I'll do it," he said, not leaving his gaze from Hermione for even a second. "But we'll start tomorrow. I highly doubt my parents are out looking for me past midnight. And I need one more night. Just one."
From the corner of his eye, he could sense Andromeda's slight nod. "I'll cast protective wards around the home just in case. And we have a guest bedroom down the hall that you two can stay in tonight."
"Thank you, Andromeda," Hermione said, breaking her and Draco's eye contact. She offered a faint smile. "For everything."
"You're most welcome," the older witch returned before addressing her nephew. "I'm sorry that you're going through all this, Draco. I only wish you had come to me sooner. Perhaps then I could have been of more assistance."
Draco wished he had, too.