DISCLAIMER: the only thing I own are the plot and the original characters of this story, everything else you may recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling. My only profit is my personal entertainment and hopefully yours.
WARNINGS: pureblood!Hermione, OOC, rated M for sexual encounters, language, mentions of violence; modern.
This fanfiction comes with dedicated website: godisawitchfic dot tumblr dot com. You can also find me as slytherinsauce on both tumblr and pinterest with more content dedicated to this story.
Author's notes: Merry Christmas to you all! It's the second one I celebrate here after I first begun publishing my story and the thought is making me kind of emotional, to be honest with you. Never could I convince myself that I had it in me to start something and then stick to it. This random, super fast update is therefore my gift for you to thank you for all the attention, love and overwhelming support I am receiving. I never take it for granted, but it's always very heartwarming and appreciated. I hope you're all having an amazing day! P.s. leave me a review as a Christmas gift, please? :)
33.
HIGHEST IN THE ROOM
.
"hope we make it outta here
when I'm with you, I feel alive
you say you love me, don't you lie
won't cross my heart, don't wanna die (…)
case it's fumes (smoke)
she fill my mind up with ideas (straight up)
I'm the highest in the room"
(The Leaky Cauldron, outside area – Diagon Alley, London, England;
October 24th, 2003, around 09:00 p.m.)
Hannah let out a sigh of relief and moved past the Leaky Cauldron's old entrance as a little smile played on her lips.
It was, perhaps, the first time since she'd broken up with Neville that she felt so lifted in the spirits: the initial phase of anger and sorrow had been followed by a lonely sadness that had left her catatonic for months, from which she'd escaped just by throwing herself in her new job at the pub and with the help of her friends from school.
But tonight, tonight she had had fun without trying too hard, without imposing herself to be in the company of other people just because she needed to.
It was like the floating bubble she'd felt around her head since last spring had finally disappeared, and she'd barely noticed, as if day by day it had lost more and more importance.
So, finally, she'd reached the point where she was letting go of it all, the good and the bad of the longest relationship of her life, and it felt great to look back at it without breaking down in tears like she usually did.
When Susan had promised her things were going to improve she hadn't believed it for a single moment, but maybe the circumstances, namely bending in front of the toilet to throw up even her soul, had made her judge things a bit too harshly.
Things were better already.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm fairly new to this part of the city. Would you mind if I asked where's the closest place that sells something against this horrible heartache I have?"
Normally Hannah hated cold temperatures, but right now she was too busy smiling at herself to be bothered by the annoying chill of the late October's air.
Which is why she didn't immediately understood the man outside the Leaky Cauldron was talking to her, and at first she made to surpass him.
"I'm sorry, Miss", he called again. "You're the first person that walks by the alley in ten minutes and I really need some type of medication".
Hannah was a little startled but did her best to hide it.
"I didn't know you were talking to me", she admitted. "But I'm afraid everything's pretty much closed at this time of the day. Your best option is St. Mungo's as of right now".
"That's unfortunate", he replied. "I gotta be at work in less than two hours and everyone knows Healers like to take their time before they visit patients who don't come in with a red code".
Her overall experience with the wizarding hospital was quite different, but she didn't want to worsen the stranger's headache by starting an argument, so she gave him an awkward smile.
"Even if they're Aurors", he added.
That information alone made her a little less jumpy. No witch liked to be stopped on a street by an unknown person while the sun was asleep, but if he worked for the DMLE, then he couldn't be one of the bad guys, right?
"I'm very sorry, Mr?"
"Loughty", he answered, offering his right hand as the Auror badge pinned on his jacket shined in the dark. "Magnus Loughty".
She shook it.
"Name's Hannah. Hannah Abbott", she introduced herself. "If you don't mind a five minutes walk I should have some leftovers of LightMind Potion at my place".
"Normally I wouldn't take advantage of your kindness", the wizard said. "But I really do feel like a Thestral walked over my brain. It'll be my pleasure to escort you, Ms. Abbott".
The man that then proceeded to accompany her as she returned to her small flat for the night wasn't much taller than her, about her age and with sandy blond hair and brown eyes. He kept his hair short, and a little stubble framed his jaw.
"Call me Hannah".
The walk to the witch's apartment was under ten minutes, during which the pair did small talk over this and that topic, often founding themselves in agreement.
Something told her the man by her side was just as lonely and disappointed by life as she'd felt in the past months.
Magnus was extremely easy to talk to, and oddly enough she was missing his company as he waited outside the building and she went upstairs to fetch the potion for him.
She blamed her unusual talkative self on the way too many drinks she'd had after shift.
As she grabbed the half empty vial from the nightstand in her bedroom, her gaze fell on her reflection in the nearby full figure mirror. Pinching her cheeks to get them a little bit more coloured, Hannah took a deep breath and returned downstairs, where Magnus was waiting and looked as if he was freezing to death.
Perhaps he was just very pale.
"This should help a little. Unfortunately, I don't have anything stronger", she apologized.
"That'll do the trick", the wizard reassured her. "Thank you, Hannah".
She smiled. "You're welcome".
It seemed as if he was about to ask something, but then he pursed his lips and weakly shook his head.
Hannah spoke without thinking. "I know it's not recommended while taking healing potions, but would you like a drink? You look as if you could use some warmth".
"A drink never killed nobody", Magnus smirked. "But I really don't want to keep you when you probably have way better things to do".
"That would be feeding my imaginary cat", she joked.
"Well, if you insist…", he trailed off, suggestively. "After you".
The witch beamed. "This way", she said, heading for the door and then leading him up four rows of stairs.
She hadn't paid much attention to the state of her apartment while retrieving the vial, but she hoped it wasn't as messy as it usually was.
Over the next hour and a half Hannah found out she had more things in common with Magnus Loughty that she could have ever imagined.
Meeting him at the end of a such an unexpectedly pleasurable evening seemed a sign directly from destiny.
Grudgingly, she walked him to the door when the time came for the Auror to go work his ten-hours night shift.
"I appreciated the company", she thanked him, eyes gleaming from the overwhelming high the absurd chain of today's event was making her feel.
"Yeah, me too. Thank you again for your help", he croaked a grin. "We should do it again some other time. That is, if you'd like the idea".
A single thought crossed her mind.
Why the hell not?
"Well, I just happen to be in need of a plus one for a party", she grinned back.
(Wizville, Curie Road n. 8 – London, England;
October 25th, 2003, around 04:00 p.m.)
Almost twenty days after the attack that had nearly wiped off his beautiful face from the face of earth, Hermione was enjoying immensely the one on one time she was finally allowed to be spending with Malfoy.
Though Draco had returned to the Manor for the time of his recovery, not able to properly look after Adhara while simultaneously taking care of his health, the couple had agreed on meeting up in the house he'd just recently bought in WizVille for some privacy.
They were in his living room, curled up on the sofa as they watched a movie on his flat-screen TV without really paying much attention to it.
Every kiss led to another, hands everywhere, and their bodies were so pressed against one another it would have been hard for a third party to tell where Hermione ended and Draco begun. They couldn't.
It was perhaps the first time since they'd started seeing each other that they got to spend almost an entire day together: Adhara was busy at school until six, and Draco had managed to have his parents retrieve her with the excuse of a curse-breaker setting some additional wards on the home around that time.
It wasn't completely a lie.
New and stronger protection spells had been placed on the house, only it hadn't been the work of a random person. If there was someone he could say he trusted with his life, and optimistically so, it was Hermione Granger.
Not only she'd had saved him from certain doom once already.
The witch also possessed a power whose extent was yet to be clarified, a source of strength her former schoolmates couldn't even begin to understand: if his enemies tried to attack him again, no curse-breaker would be able to prevent it more than she could.
His hands trailed down her back to go rest on her ass, to which he gave a not so gentle squeeze as they broke off the kiss to catch their breaths.
"What do you think it's happening there, mh?", she asked, looking above her shoulder and at the tv.
Draco gently bit the other, which the cut of her sweater left completely exposed.
He couldn't care less about the existential crisis the movie's protagonist was going through.
"Looks like he's finally realized all the moping will get him nowhere".
She swatted him on one arm, but giggled. "You're impossible".
"I'm impossibly right", he corrected. "Happens all the time. Makes me very tired".
Just as his pouting was drawing her to plant another kiss on those lips she adored, the doorbell rang and magic was out of the window in a matter of seconds.
Draco helped her relocate from his lap to the sofa and raised from his seat with a scowl.
"I wonder who it may be. Nobody's got this address yet", he complained. "Besides, who would bother someone recovering from a near-death experience?"
The same name popped in both their minds.
"Pansy".
Indeed, when the blond opened the door he was met by the dark-haired witch's bright smile.
Pansy glanced inside, seemingly cheering up when she spotted Hermione, and dragged to his living room the three people behind her, namely Blaise, his girlfriend and Potter.
"We were having lunch together and thought it would be nice to stop by and see how you were doing", she chirped, plopping down on an armchair without waiting for an invitation.
"That was very nice of you", Draco muttered, unconvinced, as he returned to his seat next to Granger.
As much as he truly appreciated his friends and fellow Slytherins, right now it was someone else's the company he really craved.
"How are you feeling, mate?", asked Blaise, occupying the other sofa with Ginny.
They kept holding hands as Potter sat next to them, though his body was visibly directed in Pansy's direction.
"I've seen better months", Draco answered, sincerely. "I'm recovering, but not as fast as I would like. My leg's still acting a bit funky".
On his side, Hermione scoffed. "Serves you well for refusing to see MagiTech Healers. They'd patch up your tendrils in a matter of seconds".
The argument was one they'd had many times ever since he'd left St. Mungo's, and the wizard knew he was sailing in very dangerous waters.
He was running out of excuses for not taking the bloody Portkey to Australia.
Truth was he didn't want to leave Adhara alone in such uncertain times: he knew Lucius and Narcissa were going to put their lives on the line for their granddaughter at any given opportunity, but he was also genuinely afraid it wouldn't be enough.
His parents were skilled duelists, that was true, but Lucius had just recently got reacquainted with his wand, while Narcissa was much better at offensive spells than she was at shields.
He just couldn't risk something happening to his offspring while he was on the other side of the world, nor did he wanted to drag said offspring so far away from home just to have her locked up in a hospital the entire time.
"I'd be glad to keep Adhara entertained while you're with the Healer", the witch added, as if she could read into his mind. "It's not like I didn't get enough practice while you were unconscious for days, anyway".
He cut her off. "Hospitals are hardly the place for a toddler".
Draco expected Hermione to protest some more as she usually did at this point of the argument, but the familiar chain of events was altered by Pansy's excited squeal.
"I could come with you and take Adhara do something fun while you're otherwise occupied. It won't be more than a couple hours, in any case. MT's Healers are the best of the best, Draco", she offered. "You should let them see you. I actually do have some business matters in Sydney that require my attention sooner rather than later, anyway".
Blaise and Ginny exchanged a look before the red-headed spoke for the both of them. "We could join, too. The more, the merrier".
Harry pretended to cough.
"I guess I could ask Kingsley for one or two days after the shifts he's been giving me recently. I'm up for a vacation, as little as it may be, at any given moment", he joined, though his remark seemed directed at his fiancée rather than at the owner of the house.
"I appreciate the sentiment", Draco said. "And thank you, too. But I really don't want to bother you all with my shit more than I already did-"
"Bollocks, Draco!", Zabini exclaimed. "It's decided. As soon as Hermione can get you an appointment with her Healer, we're all leaving for Australia".
"Suck it up, Drake. It's been decided", Pansy repeated with a smirk.
The blond turned his face to the right and spotted an identical one on Hermione's lips. Only now he did realize he'd been played.
The information she'd shared hadn't been casual, but spoken out loud with the sole purpose of getting their friends on board with her plan to take him to an Australian Healer.
It felt very odd to formulate such a simple thought – their friends – but also somewhat nice.
As much as he'd known Pansy and Blaise for a large part of his life, and Ginny had started hanging out with their usual group shortly after first hooking up with Zabini, it was still weird to add Potter to the list of the people he'd invite to an inner-circle-only event.
Now more than ever he was happy about the six months he'd spent with The Boy Who Lived at the DMLE, back to a simpler time where Draco hadn't been a father and therefore responsible only for himself.
At first both wizards had struggled with letting go of the past, but after a couple of unnecessarily heated and unfiltered arguments, in which they'd screamed at each other regrettably nasty things, the two had managed to find a way to co-operate, and slowly but steadily a tentative friendship between the two had blossomed.
It had gone pretty much dry the day Draco had resigned from Auror training upon hearing the news of his daughter's birth, but it was still there and he was very grateful for it.
If he'd tried only for Hermione's sake, the Slytherin wasn't sure he could have forced himself to get along with the likes of Potter.
He was pretty much sure he was never going to like Ronald Weasley, after all.
The witch glanced up at him from her telephone and tried to look innocent.
"They'll see you on Friday afternoon", she announced. "We can all take the Portkey from my apartment".
As the crowd around him started agreeing on time of departure, number of suitcases allowed and activities to try once in Australia, a quite flabbergasted Draco looked between Hermione and Pansy, shaking his head.
"I'm being completely overruled, don't I?"
Some time later it was easier for Draco to accept the idea of packing up some bags and have a casual trip to the other side of the planet in less than two days.
It was going to be Adhara's first trip out of England, and there were very high chances things didn't go as planned and turned messy very soon.
But it wasn't the time to care for all of that.
If chances were high, Draco was higher. Pansy and her bloody brownies.
Luckily for him, there were still hours left before his eventual return to the Manor for dinner.
But how could he keep a straight face and fabricate some story for his mother about the guy who'd placed the new wards when all he could touch were his feelings and why did his skin felt like a cloud?
Blaise and Potter were currently having a not so friendly match at wizarding chess, one in which winning seemed to matter far more than the rules.
"You can't do that", Ginny protested as she returned her boyfriend's Queen to her former position on the chessboard. "You can't just eat a piece because you don't like it".
"I'm with Red on this one", Pansy said, looking disapprovingly at her fiancée. "If you want to cheat, the least you can do is try not to get caught".
A small fit of laughter came from his shoulder, where Hermione was resting her head.
"If only he ever tried to learn how to play chess rather than how to get away with cheating".
Draco tightened his hold around her, pulling the woman closer to him.
"He's hopeless, anyway", he whispered in her ear. "Couldn't fool a kid".
"Mh", was all she had to say about it.
Something else seemed to be on Granger's mind as she broke their embrace to look up at him.
"I'm sorry I dragged them into this. I shouldn't have. But you wouldn't even begin to listen to me..."
If that was what she called an apology, perhaps he'd finally found a subject she wasn't very good at.
Actually, she kind of sucked.
"And I had perfectly good reasons not to do that", he dryly chuckled. "But what's done is done, and I wouldn't mind getting my leg fixed, after all".
"I would have asked the Healer to come here if only the Ministry didn't tighten our borders so much lately", she complained. "But I'm glad I get to show you where I lived for the past five years. Something tells me you'll love it there".
A single thought crossed his mind, but he couldn't get past the cringe of even thinking it.
I'd love it everywhere if I'm with you.
Draco couldn't tell exactly in which moment he'd fell for her, if it had been at the reunion, when he'd seen her and for a moment he'd forgotten about anything but her name, or if it had been a slower, more gradual process, but truth was he'd fallen hard.
Even as the world around him started to shake and crumble and death felt too close and friendly for a man his age, all it took was one look at her face for the wizard to truly enjoy being alive.
The more he knew about her the more he wanted to discover, and even though his position felt extremely precarious (she could do so much better than a single father and former child Death-Eater with spiked brownies in his living room), the relationship he had with her was like no one he'd had in his life.
He never felt like he needed to hide when he was with Hermione; she had this special little habit of making him feel especially welcome and. after a lifetime of playing his part, the opportunity to just be was alluring and irresistible. Delicious.
"A trip's always nice", he shrugged. "I guess pretty much everywhere is better than home right now. I never thought I wouldn't feel safe in my own country".
"It's pretty bad not having a bloodline to shield yourself with, isn't it?"
There was nothing sour in her voice, but something in her eyes suggested Hermione was deep in her thoughts, reminiscing like she did so very often.
For the most part, it was about the war.
Draco was starting to understand how Muggleborn students had probably felt with the Basilisk strolling around Hogwarts looking for one of them to either kill or petrify.
Life was precious and they rightfully cherished it. It was so fucking unfair for someone else to try and take it away from them.
"How sad is that I still need a shield?", he asked. "It's been five years".
"And it'll be five more, I'm afraid", Potter chimed in. "Once Kingsley's out the door, you can bet your ass we get someone less radical for a Minister".
Apparently their conversation hadn't been as private as he'd thought.
That didn't mean other people were invited to join and give their opinion.
How rude of Potter to assume so.
Without thinking about it, Draco grabbed another brownie from Pansy's plastic container, and remembered only after swallowing half of it that it wasn't normal food.
This thing was getting a little out of hand.
"Only Fudge is less radical than Shacklebolt", Blaise smirked. "Another bloody tax raise. I realize Voldemort was bad and we should prevent such a thing from ever happening again, but how is sucking to death what's left of Purebloods the solution?"
"I don't have an answer for that", Harry said, looking apologetic. "I don't really keep up with the politics, but something's definitely off inside the Ministry".
"You have a mole", Draco announced, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Too much weird stuff is making it to the papers".
"It's a public office with over a thousand employees, Malfoy. Someone's bound to talk to the press from time to time. We're the fucking government".
"I'm not talking about the Ministry as a whole, Potter", he countered. "I'm talking about the DMLE. Salazar, for all I know it could be even in your bloody team-"
Granger forced him to stop by elbowing him on the ribs. "Ehm, what Draco meant here..."
"Thank you, Hermione, but I think I can understand for myself what Draco meant there", Harry replied, more quietly than the man would have expected. "I can't tell you I didn't think about it, too. But that's all I can say on the subject, considering none of you is an Auror and therefore allowed to receive classified information of any kind or shape".
"You sound like a textbook, babe", Pansy scolded him. "If I wanted that I would have married Granger, you know? She's richer than you are".
"And hotter than Icarus Flint", Draco muttered.
It had been a while since he'd thought about the circumstances in which Pansy had left England, but even today he couldn't bring himself to do it without feeling the same anger he'd felt all those years before.
What Howard and Cordelia Parkinson had done to Pansy had been horrid, heartless.
Pureblood families weren't exactly the best at parenting, but threatening to disinherit your child if she refused to marry the man you'd picked was a very specific strain of evil.
One that sadly seemed to be very common in their society.
It made him two times more sick to think that this type of bullshit had been pulled on two of his closest friends. Well, three since Idabelle Selwyn had had two daughters.
Draco could see a glimmer of hope, though.
It was taking longer than anyone would have expected, but things were changing.
Euriphides Greengrass, head of one the oldest and most prestigious Houses, had recently put into motion the process to divorce his wife, something that was known to happen in Pureblood circles no more than a couple of times every decade.
His own father was getting acquainted with Muggle technology and reconnecting with the estranged sister-in-law he'd always refused to talk about when Draco had been a child and asked about the aunt that was never around.
Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of Her Age and Muggleborn extraordinaire, was a Nott.
Cantankerus was still a dick, but he guessed dead people were bound to stay the same.
On that note, he was worried about how his daughter was dealing with what she'd recently discovered.
It turned out the time she'd met him at the Ministry while he had sported his Death-Eater mask hadn't been the only one.
From what she'd shared the man had actually been a rather constant presence in her childhood, one of the few adults, or people in general, she'd ever opened up with.
She'd told him she felt stupid and weak.
She had been secretly glad Theodore had completely cancelled his face from the Manor, and never dared to ask for a picture because she'd been afraid of finding out something despicable.
Hermione was extremely annoyed over having been played so badly.
He couldn't blame her.
If there was something Draco could really relate too, was how it felt when the adults in your life disappoint you and toy with your life.
Now that he thought about it, it was something he shared with many of the people he loved the most: Theodore, Pansy, Blaise, Greg. Daphne and Astoria.
Pansy dragged him back to reality.
"It was meant to happen", she said. "Draco, Blaise. You met my parents. I knew I was going to be cut from the family the moment I had my first thought about kissing a girl".
She didn't said her name out loud, but Draco knew she was talking about Daphne.
He'd been one of the very few people to know about their relationship back in school, and the friend who'd given her his shoulder to cry on the day the two had broken up.
"The war just made it a hundred times worse", Pansy added as an afterthought.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but the Parkinson family didn't openly side with Voldemort during the war", Ginny piped up. "I can picture their bigotry, but isn't the whole point of the Sacred Twenty-Eight to reproduce and don't see their name swallowed by history?"
"It's the Sacred Twenty-Two now", said Blaise. "Well, Twenty-One when Ollivander dies. He's not known to have a heir".
Pansy toasted at that with half a brownie she then shared with her beau before turning to Ginny.
"To answer your question, if your children are gay or fall in love with the wrong people, it doesn't matter they're your children anymore", she explained. "It's really all about the blood".
"That's so fucking stupid", snarled Hermione, who was quite opinionated on the subject. Rightfully so. "And anti-scientific. Honestly, Purebloods are always flaunting about how golden they shit yet they carry on with the most barbaric, uncivilized, inhuman and oppressive traditions I've ever laid my eyes on. Some of those things would make the Inquisition blush".
"Oi", Ginny protested. "Hashtag not all Purebloods".
"Preach, sister", a familiar voice said from the doorstep.
Nott entered his living room with Luna trailing closely behind, her blonde, almost white hair basking in the light coming from the wall-sized window.
Draco got up to greet his best friend and his girlfriend of a couple months, then sat back down and re-enveloped his own in a tight embrace.
"Your security sucks", Theo said, quickly scanning the room to find the more appropriate place to sit in the crowded room. "The door was open".
"There are six of us in the room, eight now. And one's an Auror", Draco replied. "We should be fine".
"You should still be more careful", the other retorted. "Vigilance is key".
It was Harry's time to toast. "Constant vigilance!"
Draco was slowly getting a little more balanced in his euphoria, but Potter seemed to have just taken the high road and was not holding back. He could respect that.
"Seriously, mate. Just pay attention until those jocks are caught", Theo recommended one last time. Then, addressing his sister. "I'm afraid daddy's not budging".
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Let me guess. He'll speak exclusively to me? Of course he can't just accept that I give zero shits about whatever he has to share that doesn't involve the question I asked him".
"That about sums it up", he nodded. "He also kind of hinted that you'll be glad you've gone when he tells you what he knows, but it's not like I trust a single word that comes out of his mouth. He just wants his five minutes of attention".
"Well, I always suspected he was a borderline narcissist. Just never said anything about it because he was very good with the music", Hermione reminisced, and it was the first time she spontaneously shared something about her personal relationship with Cantankerus.
The one built on her believing he was a muggle pianist rather than a wizard, and a dark one at that. One fiendish enough to join Voldemort.
The witch shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I should probably get it done, then".
Draco kissed her on the temple before he whispered something in her ear.
"Do you want me to come with you?", he asked her.
Hermione reached for her purse, retrieving it from where it had ended up beneath the coffee table and forced a smile before she replied. "It's better if I go alone. We don't want to give his ego a larger audience, do we?"
She planted a kiss on a side of his mouth, said goodbye to the others and promised she would return as soon as she could.
She turned back only once on her way to the door.
"Make sure Malfoy doesn't put more weight on his leg that it's absolutely necessary".
(Nott Manor: the dungeons – somewhere in Dorset, England;
October 25th, 2003, around 05:35 p.m.)
It didn't take more than five minutes to apparate to Nott Manor and be on her not-so-merry way to the narrow pit of bottomless sorrow her father's portrait was held inside of.
She found him sitting on one of the armchairs painted across the scenery of his eternal home, the pose of his body that of someone firmly convinced to be better than the rest of the world.
She raised her up her chin, defiantly, and mirrored his stance.
Two could play this game.
"Speak", she ordered.
Her tone vaguely similar to the one the portrait of Sirius Black's mother had specially reserved for Kreacher and, well, herself.
Back when her blood hadn't been pure and therefore, according to some, worth spilling.
Cantankerus remained silent as he was joined by his wife in the portrait, with just a tiny hint of a smirk plastered on his thin lips.
"It's a joy for my eyes to see you again, dear", Anastasia greeted her.
Her expression was very soft and very sad, but instead of making the witch sympathetic, her attitude simply increased her anger.
She was acting as if she was merely a victim of circumstances, but Hermione wasn't buying it.
"I'm not here to exchange pleasantries with the likes of you", she stated. "Just tell me who you managed to piss off that might want to unleash on Theodore or I. You owe me that much".
Cantankerus drew a deep breath and forced himself to ignore the pained expression on his wife's face.
Normally he'd have scolded either one of his children for treating their mother that way, but right now it was them who had the upper hand in the relationship, what with being the ones still alive and he and Anastasia locked up in portraits, and, despite the circumstances, he was still determined to salvage what was left of his relationship with them.
"You're right. I owe you that much", he said. "Being my paranoid self, I used to keep a journal where I tried to record the important stuff, like the countless feathers I ruffled in my time at the Ministry".
"Theodore never mentioned a journal", was all she managed to reply.
"It's because he didn't know they existed", Anastasia added. "I've never heard of them myself".
"That's because they never left my office at the Foundation", her husband explained.
"I happen to know my brother occupied that office for some time. Surely he'd have found them in the time he spent there", Hermione countered. "If you're messing with me..."
Her threat hanged in the air.
There wasn't much she could do to hurt the two paintings rather than burn them.
"I can promise you I'm not", Cantankerus reassured her, struggling to keep his tone quiet and affable.
He didn't need to enrage the spitfire he knew his daughter could be.
"But you'll have to trust me on this one".
Hermione emitted a dry chuckle. "As if that's even a possibility".
"In the wall behind my desk there was a clock", he instructed. "If you prick a finger on the spike above the twelve, your blood will open a secret passage that'll lead you to the small room where I stored them. Top shelf of the bookcase".
The witch mentally repeated to herself what she'd just learned, hoping to succeed on her first attempt and never have to confront Cantankerus Nott ever again.
Only the sight of him made her ill.
"Any year or period I should give priority to?", she asked, taking a step back, closer to the door.
"I joined the Dark Lord when I was eighteen, but I started writing the journals sometime after I married your mother", he replied. "The diaries from previous periods, I'm afraid, were lost the day Theodore returned to the Manor after the war".
Hermione grimaced.
"Hopefully something useful will come out of this", she murmured.
Now that it was finally time for her to leave, she didn't have the slightest idea on how to greet them.
Technically, it was the last time she had the intention of coming down there.
Anastasia eyed her sadly. "Please be careful", she pleaded. "Take care of your brother".
She rolled her eyes.
As if she hadn't been doing precisely that since the moment she'd found out she had one.
"You'll be pleased to know I saved him from a fake engagement he had with Daphne, then", Hermione teased.
Externally it could have sounded as an attempt to give some information about her son to a desperate mother looking for answers, but in reality her intentions weren't so candid.
All she wanted was for these two to know how much their choices had fucked up Theo's life.
And her own.
"And that I may have pushed Euriphides into divorcing his crazy bitch of a wife".
Despite the fact she was talking with people she disliked almost as much as she despised Idabelle Greengrass, thinking back of the night she'd exposed her scheme and accidentally ruined her life always put her in a good mood.
If normally she considered herself a pacifist, blonde middle-aged English witches were lately waking up her avenger instincts more and more often.
She was outraged at how Rita Skeeter hadn't managed to learn her lesson after spending months trapped in a jar.
"You did my brother a favour", Anastasia said. "I never liked her".
Hermione didn't appreciate the bonding attempt.
She was trying to make them feel guilty and miserable, not to connect with them.
"At least she didn't marry a Death Eater", she said, flashing her sweetest fake smile before waving a hand at them. "I can't say it was a pleasure, but it's over now. Goodbye".
Anastasia broke down in sobs, it seemed she had a bit of a habit of doing that, while Cantankerus raised up from his seat and looked at her before checking on his wife.
"Goodbye", he repeated.
Something in his tone sounded as if he was winning, and she hated it.
(The Nott Foundation — Diagon Alley, London, England;
October 25th, 2003, around 05:55 p.m.)
As soon as her feet touched the floor outside the dungeons, Hermione rushed to the nearest apparition point inside of Nott Manor and from there to Diagon Alley, where the Nott family company had its headquarters.
She had been there a couple times over the summer while Theo was still working there, but the majestic building never missed the chance to impress her, and it didn't today.
It was a triumph of clean lines and pleasing angles, simple and at the same time eye-catching.
At the secretary on the ground floor she asked to urgently speak with Ms. Sterne, the young woman to whom Theo had left reins of the company since he'd left, but Fiona was proving to be quite difficult to deal with.
After the third sad attempt to bribe her, something she was going to ask a little more about to her Slytherin companions, Hermione was ready to resort to threats when Lauren stepped into the atrium on her way out of work.
Recognizing her, the witch walked hurriedly in the direction of Fiona's desk, shockingly graceful despite her very high heels. "Miss Nott, so nice to see you".
The secretary scoffed. "That's not the name she gave to me".
Under any other circumstance she'd have appreciated the tight respect of the rules this woman was showing on her working place, but right now Hermione just thought of her as incredibly annoying.
She was losing enough time already thanks to Cantankerus fucking Nott.
A Death Eater. A liar. Someone who had manipulated her for years.
The personification of what she thought of as a monster.
"Everything's fine, Fiona", Lauren waved off the secretary's concerns. "Hermione here is Mr. Nott's sister, but she's a bit more famous for being the witch who helped Harry Potter saving our world".
Mrs. Mills shrugged. She knew it was better not to get too political inside the Foundation.
It was still full of employees who were still loyal to the old ways that had been so dear to young Theodore's father.
"She wanted to talk to you, anyway. I think my job here is fulfilled".
With that she returned to her work, apparently ignoring the other two women, but keeping her ears open for the chance of catching up on some juicy gossip, something she could share at the new tea-room she was currently having her afternoon breaks at.
Lauren smiled. "I'll be happy to do anything I can for you as long as it's legal".
Hermione returned the smile, but looked suspiciously around her.
"Isn't there somewhere we could have a little more private conversation?", she asked.
She didn't specifically looked at the secretary, but Ms. Sterne did.
"Of course", she nodded. "Let's go to my office".
Lauren led them to opposite side of the atrium, where they took the lift to the eleventh and last floor.
She thought it was nice to share anecdotes about the company.
"When the late Mr. Nott renovated the headquarters in nineteen-ninety-six he had three floors added to the building. People around the office believe he did so to celebrate your brother's birth", she bit on her lip. "Yours as well, I suppose".
"I think they were being romantic and trying to convince themselves that their boss was human".
The doors of the lift opened in that moment.
Hermione took a deep breath and stepped out, having a look at the place and noticing that not many things had changed since the last time she'd been here.
A spacious corridor with big glass doors that led to the offices of the people on top of the chain.
When the other woman grabbed the handle of the door of the same office that had been Theo's, the Gryffindor felt as if Godric's luck was finally smiling at her.
"This is going to be so much easier", she hummed happily as she stepped into the room.
"What is?", Lauren inquired. "Take a seat, please. Would you like something to drink?"
Without waiting for a reply the current head of the Foundation went to a small cabinet on the left side of the room, took a bottle of wine and two glasses.
"Just a finger or two, I have been not sober once already, today", Hermione answered.
Even though her encounter with Cantankerus and Anastasia had definitely tampered the effect of Pansy's brownies, the witch still wanted to be lucid for what was about to come next.
If everything went according to plan, she had an entire evening of investigating ahead of her, and hopefully some answers to be found before the end of the day.
"Celebrating something?", Lauren asked, politely, pouring her the amount of wine she'd requested.
"You could say that", Hermione smiled, but didn't elaborate.
A comfortable silence engulfed the space as they sipped on their glasses, but it lasted no longer than a minute.
"Look, Lauren. The reason I'm here is that I recently discovered my father had a room hidden inside his office, which last time I checked was the one Theo had, and that was passed to you. I happen to really need something that's inside that room, and so I'm asking to please let me look for it now. I wouldn't bother you if it wasn't really important".
Lauren had been extremely understanding and very respectful of her privacy, which she appreciated immensely. She'd accepted her request without pestering her with questions, conjured up a ladder for her and stepped out of her own office to go check on some papers whose name seemed definitely made up on the spot.
So now Hermione found herself staring at the old clock, her index finger suspended mid-air above the highest spike around it.
Of course Cantankerus Nott would choose blood protections while shopping for wards.
Honestly, it was so predictable.
Taking a deep breath she pushed the tender flesh on the old metal, taking a mental note to check on her vaccination record for tetanus, and just a moment after her blood touched its surface the fireplace on the other side of the room shifted and revealed a small passage.
The space was narrow but clean and illuminated by an endless candle hanged one side of the wall.
It took only a couple of steps for the witch to reach a wooden door, which she opened with no hesitation.
Inside the second room was very little furniture, just a giant library, a writing desk, one chair and a safe.
It was the first time she saw a space that used to belong to Cantankerus that didn't look overly luxurious, and it became an instant favourite of hers.
Without wasting any time, the witch used her wand to Accio the wizard's journals, and many small black volumes stacked into a pile at her feet.
Then a small ivory box came out of a lower shelf and placed itself on top of it.
Magically downsizing her loot, Hermione put everything inside of her shoulder-bag and gave a final look at the room.
She was probably going to come back to check the safe with Theodore, but for now it was time she took her leave. It was forty past six already, and she had little more than a hour to spend with Draco before the man would have to return to Malfoy Manor for dinner.
Returning to the Lauren's office she found the woman sitting at her desk, eyes on some papers she was reviewing, and after thanking her again she waited for the witch to put on her trench coat once more.
They walked back to the lift together, and engaged in small-talk until it was time to say goodbye in the atrium.
"I'm glad you found what you were looking for", Lauren said. "Let me know if you need anything else".
Hermione smiled nervously. She felt like she was taking advantage of her kindness, but at the same time she couldn't help it.
"Actually, I'll probably need to go in there at least once more", she confessed. "I'm very sorry I have to bother you to solve the puzzles of a dead man. I was thinking that maybe I could pay you for the time you'll lose".
"Oh, don't be silly! You're welcome to come anytime you need", Lauren replied. "Just maybe owl me with a little advance, so that I can tell you when I can grant you some privacy".
"Thank you for your cooperation. Truly", Hermione said, while her smile reached her eyes this time.
She was glad Theo had had such a nice person close to him in the shit-show his life had been after the war, inside the family company he so obviously didn't want to take care of.
"I'll be waiting for your owl, then", Lauren concluded. "It's been a pleasure. Could you tell your brother I say Hi?"
"Of course I will", the Gryffindor reassured her. Offering her right hand, she smiled once more at the younger witch. "You'll be hearing again from me soon".
The other shook it, then turned on the spot and dis-apparated.
Hermione followed after her.
( Wizville, Curie Road n. 8 – London, England;
October 25th, 2003, around 06:30 p.m. )
Draco closed the main door for the last time after promising Pansy for the hundredth time that he wasn't going to bail on their trip at the last second with some far-fetched excuse.
It wasn't as if he hadn't thought about it, still unsure about dragging his toddler to the other side of the world with such short notice, but the way his friends had pressed him on the issue had convinced him it was for the best if he tried to fix his leg as soon as possible.
This wasn't the time to play the martyr.
His present pain wasn't going to erase his past misdeeds, anyway.
Theo had been the last to arrive and the first one to leave around thirty minutes ago.
Unluckily, he wasn't going to make it to Australia with them, but the two had made plans for the following week. Luna had left with him.
Blaise and Ginny had followed shortly after, saying they needed to sober up before their dinner that night at the Burrow, though by the way they'd winked and smirked at each other as if they were invisible, every single person in the room had thought it was simply an excuse to go home and fuck the high out of their systems.
Pansy stayed even after Potter left for the beginning of his shift.
For the first time the two had the occasion to talk about his relationship with Hermione and the dark-haired witch didn't miss on the opportunity.
From her questions it was clear she was trying to determine whether his intentions with the witch were serious or not, but it didn't take long for Draco to convince her that he could see himself putting the proverbial ring on it in the future.
Not that he'd said specifically so, but it was the conclusion Pansy had drawn from what she had called his puppy eyes while talking about Granger, and he'd had nothing to object.
He really was smitten with her.
Unlocking the screen on his phone, as he waited for the witch to return he set out on managing his social life: he liked some pictures, gave his adherence to an event planned for the following month about muggle beer, replied to a text from Greg and donated a couple Galleons for the birthday of an ex schoolmate he didn't even remember adding to his list of friends and their cause of choice.
He was about to exit Mirror and open up one of the games Theo had forced him to install on his device when he got a message from Astoria, which surprised him a little.
If the two had managed to stay friends after their affair back in Hogwarts, they usually never spent time together if at least another of their mutual friends, or Daphne, were present.
Things were a little awkward between them, considering he'd been a bit of an asshole with a girl who'd thought of him as her first love.
The war had gotten in the way of a relationship Draco had been strangely committed to, and thought he doubted the two of them would have made it past his sixth year anyway, he still regretted the way he'd shoved her off and cut all ties with the witch not long before their second anniversary.
06:37 p.m.
From: Astoria Greengrass
"When you have time I'd really need to talk to you".
The wizard was surprised, but also a little concerned. This move was out of script.
The blond had been exceptionally wary ever since the attack, and immediately wondered if it had something to do with whatever terrorists the magical side of London was currently dealing with.
06:38 p.m.
To: Astoria Greengrass
"I can floo to your place after dinner. The Manor's still crowded with Aurors. Not much privacy. Unless you want to talk with them".
06:38 p.m.
To: Astoria Greengrass
"Are you OK?"
It didn't take long for the woman to reply.
06:39 p.m.
From: Astoria Greengrass
"Come here when you want. I'll set up the fireplace around eight."
06:39 p.m.
From: Astoria Greengrass
"Everything's fine. Kinda. Just discovered something and need to talk about it."
06:40 p.m.
From: Astoria Greengrass
"See you later. Thank you, Draco. :)"
He was still a bit worried, but not as much.
It seemed to be something personal, and that left him with the curiosity of knowing why she'd reached out to him of all people.
Setting the phone aside, the Slytherin set out on cleaning up the mess his friends had made of his living room.
He was lucky Adhara had temporarily moved back to Malfoy Manor, because the room was definitely not sanitary.
Draco wasn't necessary an overly tidy person, but growing up aristocratic and with Elves cleaning up after you for a lifetime, he had standards.
Especially since he'd become a father and learned through muggle books how many things actually endangered the lives of babies.
It was incredible in how many stupid ways you could die if magic was out of reach. He knew something about it, since his first experience of the muggle world had been rather traumatic.
London, big and beautiful as it was, was too much for a Pureblood wizard to take his first steps.
With a flick of his wand he sent the glasses in the sink, where they started cleaning themselves, and the rubbish to its bin.
He'd many of them actually, they came with every house in WizVille, but Hermione was yet to share with him the rules of recycling, so for now the only visible difference between them was their colour.
Manually replacing the pillows on the sofa, his eyes fell on the TV, where the movie he'd been watching with Granger was paused in the middle of the final climax.
They'd watched a bit with their guests after their arrival, but soon they'd given up.
Draco still thought the protagonist was an idiot, anyway. Hard pass.
Five minutes later, when the doorbell finally rang, he'd been sitting on the sofa catching up with some Quidditch on the TV.
With the bins came free access to MagiTech's sports network.
"I'm so sorry. The thing with the painting took a bit more than I anticipated", Hermione said when he entered her line of sight.
He stepped out to let her in.
"Did you manage to find something, at least?", he asked.
The witch showed her bag to him.
"It's all in here", she announced. "Are you up for a bit of light reading?"
Without waiting for his reply she plopped down on the sofa and removed her shoes, then opened the bag and started taking small black tomes out of it, which she then enlarged without the help of her wand. The last item she produced was a box of a different shape, but she set it on one side, as if saving it for later.
Draco sat down with her.
"What is all of this?", he inquired. "Are these your father's?"
She shivered when he said the last word, and he wanted to bit his tongue.
He knew she hated when people referred to Cantankerus Nott that way.
She didn't think of him as his father, at least from what she'd said and he had deduced from observing her.
"Yes. These diaries belonged to Cantankerus, but he kept them in a secret room in his office at the Foundation. So I had to go there and ask to look for it. Icing on the cake, I also had to bleed on a clock to open it. That man was fucking sick".
Yeah, she definitely didn't like the guy.
"From what he said, they should be some sort of journals when he wrote down things he thought important, like people he made enemies of", she explained. "I'm not sure they're going to be of any help, but it's better than play sitting ducks".
Draco nodded. "Anything that makes me feel like I am doing something is well accepted".
"That's why I schemed to get you to Sydney", she chided. "Wizarding medicine is not supposed to take this long to heal you".
Perhaps now it was as good a time as ever to tell her what he'd discovered about the cures he'd received at St. Mungo's, but he was too ashamed: if money had allowed Hermione to get him the best room, the hospital had deliberately put him in the hands of the worst healers it could offer, and it had done it in purpose.
"We'll see if we can do anything about it on Friday", he surrendered.
Draco grabbed one of the books and opened it on a random page.
"Let's focus on one problem at a time", he suggested. "I have to be at the Manor in a hour, but I can surely go through a couple of these tomorrow morning".
Glancing down at the page, he started skimming through the text.
It was an account of Theodore's fourteenth birthday, the first one following his mother's death, and it seemed to have been a pretty sad event.
He'd gifted his son a ridiculously expensive wand-cane which he was sure his friend had never used.
What was the thing with older wizards and wand-canes?
"I think we should read them chronologically", Hermione mused.
In the following thirty minutes the pair managed to barely start delving into the journals, so they decided to split them up and keep each other updated via phone.
They were supposed to spend some time together the following day, anyway.
Draco felt guilty about not being available that night, leaving large part of the work to Granger, there was no way in heaven or hell she was going to wait and not binge-read the diaries, but when he voiced his concerns she shut him up, laughing.
"Don't even worry about it", she reassured him. "Go talk to Astoria and see if you can be any help. Besides, it's not as if I'm going through this stuff on my own. I'm having dinner with Theo and I was thinking we could pass some of the work to him..."
"He gets pissed when left out of things", he concluded for her.
"Precisely", Hermione nodded. "Not to mention he'll probably know a lot better which names deserve special consideration".
"Sounds like a good plan", Draco smiled at her. "Text me if you find something".
"You're welcome to join us if you're done early", she invited him as her small frame disappeared inside her oversized jacket. "I'll keep you updated".
"Later", Draco greeted as he kissed her goodbye before he escorted her to the door. "Keep safe".
"You too, Malfoy".