She was shaking as the lights roared on in her house. The brightness seemed too cheerful and distinct at the moment. She heard the door shut behind her and dematerialize away just as the teapot came wheezing in. She waved it away with a bit more force than necessary, slamming it into the table with a crack and causing it to spill everywhere.
"Shite." She breathed out in a voice far too shaky and unstable to be her own. She instantly kneeled to the floor, carefully picking at the pieces. "I ruin damn near everything, don't I?"
"Reparo." He muttered quietly, a light shiver trailing down her spine. She was intent on gathering up the remaining shards of clay when the ceramic shook before shooting back together like a magnet. The teapot shivered briefly before disappearing back into her kitchen. She shot Draco a grateful look as he carefully slid his wand back down his sleeve.
"Thank you." She managed to mutter out.
"Come sit."He responded awkwardly as he reached out for her arm. She stared blankly at his hand pressed against her wrist before standing. The glitter enchantment had worn off at some point, if Harry had looked down he would have seen the scar and known exactly who she was. She had forgotten how thin of a curtain she hid behind. When she was with Draco she let herself be normal- no, reckless. It was dangerous and she would do well to remember that.
He guided her over to his couch and set about adjusting her into a seated position. She knew where things were supposed to go and how her body was supposed to move but for some reason her commands just weren't working. She felt the cool velvet of his magic slide over her skin, a cleaning spell wicking away the grime. She would have felt guilty about how much it calmed her while clearly causing him discomfort if she didn't remember a similar situation last year. Something had set him off just as bad as seeing Harry had for her. She never did find out what it was though. Maybe he would tell her now.
"Do you need anything? Water? Tea?" He questioned carefully. She realized vaguely that she had been staring at the floor for a set moment.
"Oh, uh no. I am uh… no." She wasn't okay. Not even close. But then again he didn't ask. She thought she was past the falling apart stage. She had become so stable, so confident in her barely there lifestyle she had forgotten how easily it all rushed back. She resolutely kept her focus on her hands, cataloging the small scars that littered her skin like tally marks. It would keep her from slipping too far, she should pick something difficult to brew.
"I'll head out. I get it if you don't want to see me again. Don't worry we can tell Potter that you went back to Spain. Between the three of us I am sure we have enough properties to send him on a goose chase." He was rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, his white shirt had a splash of pink splattered across it and she wondered if it was her drink. She didn't remember putting it down after all. She would have to scourgify for him. It would be rude not to.
"Right then. Well… For what it's worth I am sorry. I know you probably don't care or it doesn't matter but...yeah." He finished awkwardly before meeting her eyes. He looked terribly disturbed by something, but she couldn't pick out what. "Nice knowing you, Granger."
As he turned, intent on the floo a small part of her brain managed to scream to alertness."What? Wait."
He froze stiffly reaching for the powder. She mildly wondered how many times she had seen that exact pose. His thin from frozen mid stride, arm outstretched reaching for a palmful of powder. His back was beautifully angled, even through his shirt, the bones of his shoulder blades cutting into his shirt as the tension tangled in his muscles. Even as the fabric tapered to his waist she could still see the various muscles in his ribs twitching as he breathed.
"I guess that would be too easy. Okay go ahead." He turned to face her with eyes shut and his body tense. She stared at the stance for a moment, remembering being curled into his chest. Sure enough, there was a smudge of her dark red lipstick right above his heart. What prick wears white to a club, honestly.
"Well?" He asked, cracking open an eye.
"Are you okay?" She questioned cautiously. She didn't feel like she could be very supportive in the moment but if he was off to do something reckless she would feel responsible. At best, he would probably blow something up, at worst that something may be the Minister of Magic. What a shite night for both of them.
"Am I okay?" The tension in his shoulders released a hair, confusion blanketing his face instantly. "Aren't you going to curse me?"
"No!" She responded instantly, horrified at the thought as her brain finally returned to her body in full. "Why would I want to curse you?"
"Well… after I said…" He trailed off. It took a moment before she was able to pick up his meaning. "You've hexed me for less."
She forced down her visceral reaction to the idea. Her expression must have cooled regardless judging by his resulting flinch. She did her best to keep her tone flat. "I will only hex you if you meant it. Did you mean it?"
"Merlin, No!" He corrected so quickly it was almost comical. The reaction allowed her to breath again, the anger and fear still curled lightly around her heart but fading. If she was honest with herself a small part of her did wonder if he still did still hold on to his prejudice, even if they were friends. There were always exceptions to the rule when it was convenient. She didn't think she could bear knowing the answer if it was true.
"Oh, honestly! How delicate do you really think I am?" She huffed. It was easy to be offended and upset. It pushed other thoughts to the back of her mind. She leaned into it focusing on reacting like she normally would, letting her emotions guide her.
"Do you really want me to answer that?" He questioned cautiously, his eyebrow slightly raised.
"You said what you had to and I know you don't mean it. So it's fine. Drop it." She pinned him with a deeply exasperated look. He was still frowning but at least all of the tension had leaked away from his shoulders leaving them in a relaxed slump.
"But I felt you tense." He argued weakly, only trying to convince himself. It was exhausting honestly. They had a long night full of near missed and quite frankly she really didn't want to deal with his self loathing tonight. She had her own to wrestle with.
"It was a tense situation! Why do you constantly think I am going to abandon you at the slightest infraction?" She shot with a bit more venom than she had intended. His measured glance spoke volumes. After a moment she sighed, curling back in on herself. The fear was overcoming her, laced with the exhaustion she had nothing left to give. "I don't want to fight. I just... Thank you... for interfering. While not exactly the most tactful response I can hardly argue with results."
"I don't do well under pressure." He responded mutely staring at her ceiling. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No. Yes... I don't know." She responded watching him from under her eyelashes. She felt obscenely fragile at the moment and for some reason he was the superglue holding the trapeze act she was performing together.
"Want me to sit here until you decide?" He questioned with a sigh.
"Yes please." And she really did. It had been so long since she had someone she could just exist with. She felt no shame in using him at all, it was only fair really.
He moved to take the couch opposite hers. A small noise of protest escaped her voice and he froze regarding her with a calculating stare. Finally he sighed and shuffled over to sit next to her on the couch, lightly patting her back. After an awkward moment she let herself fall onto his shoulder and he grumbled in defeat. She needed an anchor and if he was willing to be one for the night then she would take it. It wasn't like she had many other choices.
"You know… I have noticed you're very kind when you're drunk." She murmured lightly, her temple resting against the skin of his neck. The warmth sent a smoothing wave through her body. His arm squeezed her shoulder lightly. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."
"I'm not drunk, Granger." He murmured, risking a light pat on her head. It made Hermione feel like some sort of cross between a child and a dog. "But still don't tell anyone."
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He took in the lightly breathing witch leaning against him in a mix of anger and pity. Her pale skin had lightly tanned in spite of the winter season. All the outdoor trekking they did together was probably responsible for it. Almost immediately after she fell asleep he removed the glamore on her. It felt wrong looking down and not seeing the same face he had spent months working with. If she just hadn't gone with tonight… If Theo had put her in some Godrick be damned real clothes…
With a silent groan he shimmied out from underneath Hermione. A quick glance at her watch put the time at 3:30 am. The boys had no doubt disappeared shortly after them and would probably be worrying about him. Then again maybe not, they seemed to put more faith in the witch keeping him in line than she deserved credit for.
As he made for the floo Hermione repositioned on the couch, rolling in a violent twist before frowning. He paused, taking in her sharply turned neck and coiled-up body. She would certainly hurt in the morning if she slept like that.
"Meeeerrrooowww." Crookshanks brushed up against his knees purring happily. The cat merely blinked at him before moving over to sniff his owner.
"Well, she's the one who fell asleep on the couch." He huffed to the cat. The creature's bright yellow eyes regarded him intelligently. "What do you want me to do about it?"
The cat seemingly understanding him popped up onto his feet and wandered over to the library. With another yowl Draco heard the ladder from her loft clack into place.
"You cannot be serious." He groaned as the cat held his gaze before jumping up to the loft. With a sigh he glanced at the witch curled up crookedly. He was not a prince. He did not save damsels in distress. But then again Granger was hardly a damsel. Just a young witch who had too much to drink on a bad night. Maybe… just this once, he could be the good guy.
Another yowl sounded insistently, causing the object of his dilemma to shift, this time settling her weight on her shoulder and arm. It was definitely going to fall asleep at some point. With a groan he gave one last glance at the floo before lightly stepping toward her.
"Granger?" He whispered to no avail. "Hermione?"
The witch turned to him in her sleep, barely breaking the pattern of her breathing. With a sigh he pulled out his wand. Before he cast the levitation spell he paused. As someone who had been on the receiving end of levitation sickness while drunk he could easily say that was not anything he wished to repeat.
With a groan he half hoped would wake her up he shuffled closer, taking in her barely covered limbs and wildly damp curls. Giving himself the best chance for getting her up there unhexed he removed the transfiguration on the clothes letting them fall back to the jumper and joggers from earlier. Taking a deep breath he slid his hands to hook under her knees and behind her shoulder.
Now, Draco was aware he was not a strong man. He leaned more on the side of thin and lean than athletic. However when he scooped her up she was lighter than he expected, lighter than she should be. He made a mental note to tease her into eating more, maybe something about her hair being half her weight. It was probably true anyway. She felt so small wrapped in his arms as he carefully guided her over to the loft. Without her loud mouth and domineering personality to take up all the space in the room she felt so… slight.
He carefully adjusted his hold as he made his way up the steeply slanted ladder to her bed. He had only been up there once when he slept through the potion brewing for Blaise's arm. He let her slave away all night while he slept on the most comfortable cheap mattress in the world. He was such a jackarse sometimes.
Shuffling down to his knees he rolled her lightly into bed. Her body unfolded and the cat pushed against his hand while purring gently. He pat the creature on the head softly before withdrawing his arm. He nearly jumped from the loft when her hand grabbed at his retreating sleeve.
She mumbled something quietly in her sleep, something he was only vaguely able to make out. With careful fingers he unfolded her grip and slunk down the ladder and out the floo. He was fervently repeating over and over in his head he hadn't heard the word 'stay'.
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Hermione woke the next day with no recollection of how she had managed to stumble back into bed and only a minor headache. There was also the overall sense of feeling like a coward who hid behind Draco hoping he would take care of her problem. That part stung a bit but as she said last night, there is no arguing with results.
With a sigh she rolled out of bed, patting Crookshanks on the head before she set about readying for her day. The store in Istanbul had a nasty imp infestation and she had to draw up a cooling potion to kick them out. By the time she had finished with it the sun was high in the sky.
A bell chimed above the plaque reading Istanbul and she threw the bottle into the floo calling out the name of her shop. The bell silenced, draping the room in mid morning air. As she mused about the implications from the previous night a thick and heavy paper fell into her mail basket. Very rarely did she ever get any papers delivered, choosing instead to read them at the cafe below once a week.
With a somewhat suspicious hand she picked the paper up gingerly. The front page was shouting some nonsense about a dust storm in Pakistan that had been supposedly caused by out of control elementals. With a fresh pot of tea she settled down and began flipping through the periodical.
She was halfway through breakfast when she finally spotted the page marked in red ink. A note was scrawled across the right half of the page in ever familiar handwriting.
We weren't sure it would ever make it but here you are. I present to you your brainchild. Pardon the fact we were unable to get it done before Christmas.
-DM….AND THEO HI!
P.s. Blaise is also here but less pushy with the quill.
Hermione smiled as she scanned the article. It was a fairly dry piece discussing the release of Elixir of Lucidity. Already there were heavy backers supporting her name-making potion singing praises about it's 'pleasing' effects. Unsurprisingly a few healers at St. Mungo's were excitedly yammering on about the various clinical uses.
She sipped her tea and glanced around the dusty old room. She smiled to herself. Maybe today could be a good day.
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Draco grimanaced at the unlovingly scrawled note that had flown in with the morning post. He sighed glaring at the official ministry header, cursing his poor timing.
Draco Malfoy,
You are requested at the Claims Office: Copyright Knowledgeability Sector in regards to the creation and marketing of Elixir of Lucidity.
Please arrange a meeting by 7:00 am by the latest.
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It took all of his decorum not to slam the door stomping out of the Claims Office. Blaise followed behind him in a much more controlled movement. The men went step for step until arriving at the public floos. The crowds parted to avoid the legendary ire of the Malfoy heir, a fact that made it easier to move but more likely to draw attention. By the time they managed to limp to his apartment he was practically fuming.
"Very subtle Draco." Blaise drawled snatching a sandwich that Pinky placed delicately on the table. "I am sure no one noticed your reaction at all. Certainly no one who has access to the readership of thousands."
"I don't give a damn." He growled out running his hand through his hair. Draco was exhausted, even after getting home and firecalling the guys to let them know he was alive he rolled back and forth for hours in bed replaying their confrontation with Potter.
"Well I do." Blaise scoffed as he kicked his legs up on the legs of Draco's couch. "We knew this would come up. Why were you so surprised?"
"I didn't expect them to treat it like she was dead!" He groaned pacing back and forth like a caged animal. It had been awful listening to them debate for hours and hours about if Hermione Granger had any posthumous right to her potion. Nevermind that he had the recipe and ensured all the paperwork was legal. Suddenly the board was saying her heir had the right to the claim. Considering the lack of children in her workshop Draco was fairly certain they meant inheritors. And there was only one person he could think of who would bother going about it this convoluted and bureaucratic way.
"Well most people think she is." Blaise responded tartly. "It's not like she goes clubbing with them on the weekends. It makes our life and hers easier if everyone assumes she's dead. What's the problem?"
"This has Potter written all over it." Draco huffed.
"Just shag the man and be done with it!" Blaise groaned tiredly, ignoring the venomous glare sent at him. "Look, he has no reason to begin sniffing around you anymore. Just stay off his radar and don't piss him off."
Draco winced and Blaise's eyes narrowed. The dark skinned wizard growled. "What?"
"Well you know how me and Hermione disappeared last night?"
"Are you really about to detail me with how you shagged Granger?" Blaise rolled his eyes humorlessly.
"That's not-" Draco started only to be cut off.
"I know." He scoffed. "As if she would let you. What happened?"
"Well… Potter showed up."
"At the Menagerie?" Blaise questioned with his eyes brow raised, clearly doubting the credibility of his narrator.
"Weasley was there too I think."
"Ah, makes more sense." Blaise dragged his hand down his face with an exasperated sigh. "Did you antagonize him?"
"Well…" Draco stalled thinking back at the flaring emotions across Potter's face. "Define antagonize."
"Great. Just bloody great. I have so much work to do now." Blaise growled stalking off towards the fireplace. "Look, Draco. If you can't keep her under the rug she can't be around us. I am serious. If this story breaks or Potter finds out about it we're all done for. Don't get me wrong. The witch is a trite bit of fun to be around. But she's not worth risking your reputation… and ours for that matter now that we are complicit."
"She fixed your arm." Draco supplied watching his friend waver in his living room. After a few moments of silence he spoke again.
"And I am grateful. But if people start digging they'll find out how it really happened and what you did. They'll find out about Theo timeturners and any other secrets we don't want public. Okay?" Blaise eyed him meaningfully and Draco thought of his mom, panicked and scared being hounded by photographers and journalists.
"I have to run damage control. Don't do anything stupid until I get back." The other man made to step into the flames when some horridly noble part of Draco bubbled up.
"You don't have to." Blaise stopped mid-stride regarding Draco with interest. "You've done more than enough for me. I could set you up with a nice pension, or reference if you want to keep working. I know you have been all but stuck with me for the past few years but... If you want to be elsewhere… If you are tired of all this."
He trailed off not sure what else to say. Blaise scoffed, crossing his arms. "You're so fucking dramatic."
"I just thought-"
"I'm not going anywhere, Draco." He huffed eyeing Draco in a way that felt horribly invasive. "Stop trying to push the people around you away."
"I'm just offering." He muttered quietly, the words sounding a bit too similar to hers.
"Offer rejected. I have work to do, get cleaned up. You need to go visit your mother today."
With a flash of flames he was gone, a stark reminder of what a mess Draco had gotten them into. To make matters worse, he wasn't quite sure he fancied finding a way out of it.
World Building with Om
Levitation sickness:
The result of levitating wizards. It is similar to car sickness but more rapidly onset. This would be why most wizards prefer brooms for their upward mobility intentions.
Claims Office: Copyright Knowledgeability Sector
The office is a horrible mess of paperwork and fines dedicated to sorting out disputes over ownership of various intellectual works. This is an expressly annoying fact considering that intellectual property does not exist in Wizarding Britain in most cases. Most frequently they just exist to hear themselves talk.