"I'm telling you, sweetheart, you are going to love it. Drake is the best yoga instructor in Adelaide. And he is so handsome it should be illegal. Maybe you will get hooked and that way I can convince you to move to Australia permanently."
"I'm only a portkey away, mother," Hermione gave a small eye roll and a smile. They were walking down a quiet street, carrying their matching yoga mats.
"I know, honey, but you need to understand that I am not a witch," Jane Granger whispered the word. "To me, you live on the other side of the world, alone."
"I am not alone, mom."
Jane lifted an eyebrow.
"You have friends; I know that. But you broke up with your boyfriend, who is a nice guy but didn't really appreciate you, and your other best friends are a couple, now raising their first child. Single life is over for them. And you have been left behind. That's the nature of life, sweetheart. Plus, you hate your job."
"I love my job."
"You hate your job. You are good at it, but you hate it. Move here; become a full-time researcher. Find someone new to love."
Hermione lifted her hands in surrender. "I'll tell you what, mother. You introduce me to one of the Hemsworth brothers, and I will move here for good. I promise"
Jane smirked.
"I bet when you see Drake, you will be like 'Chris who'?"
The two women were still chatting and laughing when they entered the yoga studio. Jane gave a salute in an overly sweet voice.
"Good morning, Drake. I brought you a new student."
A man was arranging things on a storage closet in the back of the dim-lit room, but his voice carried through. Hermione felt like she was punched in the stomach.
"Jane, my darling. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Welcome, friend," the tall blonde said, closing the closet door. He froze in place.
"Granger!" he said, panic in his eyes.
"Malfoy," she gasped, almost inaudible.
Jane started: "you two know…" then she stopped. If they knew each other, that meant Drake was a wizard, and they could not discuss their acquaintanceship here. Jane realized there was a reason she kept having a feeling that her daughter would have a lot in common with the handsome yoga instructor.
By then, the room was filling up, waves of eager women pushing by them to say hello and bat their eyelashes to Draco Malfoy. Hermione watched as the once proud and repellent pureblood wizard was all soft smiles and courtesy toward a bunch of muggles. When an older man entered the room pushing a walker in which he carried his yoga mat, Malfoy rushed to help him, settling him on the front row next to the spot where her mother had dragged Hermione.
"Albert, this lovely lady is Hermione Granger. She is new to the class today. Would you mind keeping an eye on her?"
Albert gave her a bright, wrinkled smile.
"Of course. Don't worry, young lady; it is not hard to keep up with me."
Hermione couldn't help a chuckle and nod. Draco gave her a small, pleading smile, so she decided to give this strange situation a chance. After all, her wand was hidden with an undetectable extension charm in the waistband of her yoga pants.
Draco walked to the front of the room and took a seat cross-legged on his mat.
"Good morning, everyone. Let's start practice today with a breathing meditation."
He guided the class into a meditative state, but Hermione was still alert. When she peeked through her eyelids and saw his eyes closed, she tried a bit of legilimancy. For a second, she entered his mind, feeling a deep sense of calm, but suddenly she felt pushed away.
"Nice try, Granger. Next time, please ask for permission," his thoughts berate her.
Hermione opened her eyes, blushing. Draco was sitting still, face completely relaxed. She stared at him for the next five minutes. His expression didn't change. His calm was strangely contagious.
"Let's start by folding forward. Rearrange your legs, find child's pose."
His voice, once a drawl she had known well, full of pride and disdain, was now a low, majestic current of calming sounds. She decided that being next to Albert would probably guarantee her safety somehow, and let herself follow the instructions. After an hour, she was putty in Malfoy's hands, just like every other woman in the room. At the end of the class, they were all sitting again.
"The light in me bows to the light in you. Have a wonderful rest of your day. Namaste."
Hermione came back to her senses, feeling relaxed despite herself. She helped Albert pack his things. The old gent asked her and Jane to join him for morning tea.
"Albert, you rascal. You can't take all the beautiful women with you," Draco said, walking to stand next to them. "I'll tell you what: why don't you take Jane with you, and Hermione can help me finishing organizing the room."
Jane looked at her daughter, waiting to see if she would agree. Hermione forced a smile. She needed answers.
"You go ahead. I will help Drake," she said the name with a hint of irony.
Once they were alone and the studio door closed, Draco performed a wandless spell, and the room cleaned itself. Hermione waited. He signaled for her to sit cross-legged in front of him on his yoga mat. She hesitated. Draco lifted his hands.
"Perform whatever spell you need to feel safe, Granger. I have nothing to hide."
She pulled her wand to Accio his. The wand flew from the closet to her hand. She put it with hers in the secret extended pocket of her yoga pants.
When they sat, she asked.
"What the hell is going on, Malfoy?"
He cringed a bit at her tone, then took a deep breath.
"It will be easier if I show you," he said, offering his hands. Hermione took them and performed the legilimancy spell again.
She saw his trial five years ago when he was sentenced to two years probation. He spent them drunk in his manor. Then as soon as he was freed, he fled England and stumbled from country to country, drinking, whoring, taking mind-altering potions. He woke up one day in Nepal, not sure of how he got there. A Buddhist monk was taking care of him. Draco was covered in bruises and freshly healed cuts. Maybe a few bones had been broken too. His mouth had the unmistakable taste of skele-grow. The monk signal for him to be quiet and from his robes pulled a wand halfway, then hid it back. Draco fell back asleep.
Then came a week in hell. She saw Draco toss and turn in pain and sickness, the withdrawal from alcohol and potions torturing every inch of his body. When he angrily asked the wizard-monk for a drink, the only response he got was an arm pointing to the door, to the village 20 miles away, where he could drag his ass if he wanted alcohol. He stayed. Two weeks later, he was wandering around, screaming to the silent monks to talk to him, walking into the forest to throw spells left and right to try and calm his fits of anxiety and panic attacks.
The wizard-monk woke him up one morning at sunrise and guided him to their yoga practice. He half-heartedly followed, but then came back the next day. And the next one. After a month, the panic attacks had subsided. After six months, he was proficient, practicing two hours a day and spending the rest of the time helping around with menial labor. The garden was his favorite spot. He learned to grow vegetables and medicinal herbs. The Wizard-monk had a small, secluded potions lab next to his cell, and Draco helped him brew both muggle and magical medicines.
After a year, he was given a choice: take orders or go back to the world. Without knowing why he chose the world. Not England, though. He considered the possibilities and settled on Australia. The monks gave him letters of recommendation to find work as a yoga instructor. He didn't need the money, but it gave him peace. He had been in Adelaide for a year. Three months ago Jane signed up for his class. He didn't know back then why the muggle woman seemed so familiar. Now he knew.
Hermione came back to the present, startled. One of the effects of legilimancy was emotional transfer. She felt suddenly exhausted. When she wobbled forward, he caught her in his arms and guided her to lean on him.
"Take a few minutes," he whispered in her ear. "The transfer was too much, and my emotions are not your responsibility."
She let go and almost dozed off, her emotions slowly coming back to normal, but now "normal" felt off: Draco Malfoy had pulled himself from the most bottomless hole of despair and recklessness and was now living a content life. Whereas she was barely living, resigned to a life of duty for which no one was thankful anymore. She was ok, but she was not happy.
"I don't know what to do," she said out of the blue.
He moved a lock of her hair behind her ear.
"Well, I assume you are on vacation and will keep coming to yoga. That's a good place to start searching."