Hello :) Thanks so much for continuing to read and for the lovely reviews last chapter.
Gratitude to my team: LightofEvolution, In Dreams, and Mcal
Draco drags himself from Grimmauld back to the Manor, Inferi-like and worn. Of course he won't fucking sleep tonight. The very idea is ludicrous now. His good mood has vanished into ether, and he's weary in a way he's not felt in weeks. Guilt, previously tempered by the progress in Granger's happiness, is back in full force, now with a heaping dose of fear blanketing him like ice. He's fucking terrified, self-preservation begging him to run. Or kill fucking Potter. Or… something.
The only solace he finds is the healing comfort of ancestral magic, the Manor humming to him, seeming content to have him home.
Pipsy greets him once he enters his new rooms. "Pipsy is happy to see Master. Does Master require anything?"
"No, Pipsy," he answers wearily, scrubbing his hand down his face. "I'll be leaving before breakfast. Don't mention that I was here to Mother or Father."
The elf looks at him with wide eyes and pulls on his over-long ear, dragging it down to the point of pain, and he winces.
"Stop that," Draco barks, slapping the elf's hand away. "Speak whatever is on your mind."
"Pipsy was asked to tell Mistress when Master returns. Pipsy cannot disobey Master or Mistress."
Fuck, could this night get better? Draco grabs his robes that he has only just shed and makes his way to the door. "Tell her I dropped by for only a moment then," he growls out. "But, in the future," he adds, levelling the elf with an annoyed look, "my schedule is my own. As Lord of Malfoy Manor, this is the last time you will report to anyone about me. Understood?"
The elf nods eagerly, happy for the clarity that removes any need to interpret future action, as Draco stomps from the room, cursing his mother for preempting him.
Ultimately, he goes to Nott, though he questions the intelligence of the choice all the way past the moment that the door swings open. Theo stares at him for a moment, seeming to be honestly surprised. Then he masks anything other than his usual haughty flippancy and steps to the side. "Well, well, isn't this an honor?"
"Isn't it?" Draco asks, a smirk in place he doesn't feel. He walks straight into the eastern parlour and sits without invitation or ceremony. He feels a bit at home in a plush fireside where he has spent many evenings in the past.
Theo busies himself pouring two glasses of firewhiskey and delivers one to Draco before taking a seat to his left. "I hear congratulations are in order."
Draco sips the liquid, feeling it burn down his throat in that pleasant yet horrible way that it has. He looks at Theo with as much of a bored expression as he can muster, assuming the topic at hand to be his inheritance.
"It was always going to happen," he comments. "Just perhaps sooner than Lucius intended."
His friend laughs at that. "Condolences to him, then. I'm surprised to see you. You spend so much time with your Gryffindor these days..."
"You spend a fair amount of time in the lions' den as well," Draco feels smug when Theo glances just slightly to his right. It's an old tell, one the wizard has had since he was in nappies.
"Not as much as all that," Theo denies with a flippant wave of his hand. "I'm sure they will tire of me soon enough."
"Who could ever?" Draco counters with a sarcastic drawl.
They chuckle, then Theo levels him with a look. "To what do I owe this very late at night visit?"
Draco hedges, hoping to sound casual. "Who else would be up in the middle of the night to relieve me my boredom?"
"Granger not keeping your attention, then? I'm afraid you're hardly my type."
"And you're certainly not mine," he agrees, trying very hard to ignore the twinge of regret her very name brings.
Theo, however, perceptive little prick that he is, notices. "Ah, trouble on that front, it seems. I was under the impression from Potter that she is quite taken with you. Have you tired of her then?"
"I've not," Draco answers quickly. It certainly wouldn't do for any hesitation to make its way back to Hermione. "I'm just not sure…" Fuck, he hates this. Draco is not the confessional type, and the more people that know, the more dangerous it is. It's bad enough anyone knows at all.
"Not sure you have a future?" Theo guesses. In a roundabout way Draco would suppose that's about the size of it.
"You could say that. There's a lot between us. Maybe too much."
"I get the idea," he ventures, "that your concerns are one sided. Granger seems nothing but enamoured with your pale arse."
"Yes, well, Granger doesn't know all the things I've done."
Standing, Theo paces closer and looks down at Draco, more serious and intense than he can ever remember seeing the wizard before. "This all sounds very familiar. I seem to remember you whining about all of this not so long ago. Anyway, she may not know, but I do. You haven't done anything worse than what she does know. She's forgiven you, Malfoy. I'm certain of it."
Feeling miserable and looking probably twice as bad, Draco says nothing and watches as Theo studies him. Eventually, Theo's face falls into something akin to horror. "Something more that even I don't know? Dear Merlin, what did He make you do?" Theo asks in a whisper.
Draco shakes his head then takes a very long pull of whiskey. "It's nothing like that. Nothing I did for Him. Not even… fuck, Theo, it's isn't even dark. It's just… I did something really shite to Granger, and I don't know how to tell her."
"Do you have another witch?"
Draco snaps his head back to Theo, expecting to see a teasing glint or half smirk, only to find the man completely serious. "Why does everyone think that? She asked me the same. And no," he adds quickly, seeing Theo start to interrupt, "I haven't been with another witch. Fuck, I haven't had a witch so much as look at me since last year. Not until Granger."
"Then what could you possibly have done?" Considering him, Theo drops back in his chair and cups his chin with his hand. "You've been loyal, you're obviously besotted, you stayed in England for her… what more could a witch ask for."
Draco huffs at that. "Honesty?" he offers, almost under his breath.
"Then be fucking honest," Theo says casually, like it's just so easy, before taking a drink of his own liquor.
"You don't understand." Draco feels petulant; he sounds petulant. But this isn't some small thing. How is he supposed to just tell her? "There's no way I can tell her this and it not completely break her heart."
"And waiting will make it hurt less then?" Theo asks with a bit of sarcasm, swirling his whiskey in his glass. "There's some expiration date on her taking offense?"
"Of course not," he bites back. "She-" but he doesn't get far when he's interrupted by the sod and his two-sickle wisdom.
"Then I don't see as how waiting is doing anything to help your case. Tell her. She either forgives you or she doesn't, but in the meantime, you're just getting attached to a situation that might not really belong to you."
Draco is quiet for a long time, jaw clenched and mind racing. He's not wrong, the fucker. It won't get easier, and nothing is going to change the reality. She will eventually learn the truth, and it will be on her to forgive or not. Everything else is just dragging out the heartache. This is why he comes to Theo if he's honest. (Which, as everyone can likely tell, is not a common occurrence.) The man has a very odd way of making too much sense, especially when it isn't what you want to hear.
Finally, Draco sits back in the chair hard, a breath leaving his lungs. He looks at Theo to find their gazes meet, and there's some taste of sympathy in his eyes. Not liking that, he just pouts out a very sincere, "Go fuck yourself, Nott."
Somehow, his friend knows what Draco means and sits back in his own chair, mimicking his defeated posture in solidarity. "Want another whiskey?" he asks, not unkindly.
"Yeah."
His friend pours more liquid into the glass and retakes his seat. "So, do you want to tell me what you've done then?"
Draco considers that. Does he? Now that Potter knows, the idea of telling Theo doesn't have to seem as revealing. A secret between two people is nowhere near as private as something you hide within yourself. More people involved increases the risk, but it would be nice to have someone who is truly on his side. "How close are you and Potter?"
Theo shifts in his seat. Interesting.
"We're friendly enough. Why do you ask?"
Shooting the rest of the whiskey as if it's nothing more than cheap swill, Draco leans forward, arms resting on his knees. "I've known you a long time, Nott. How friendly? You and Corner in sixth year friendly?" He raises a brow and waits for the tell. On cue, Theo glances to the right. Draco nods, satisfied. "That's answer enough," he tells him.
Feeling restless, Draco stands to continue his confession, pacing the room. "I may as well tell you then, because I'm sure Potter will eventually."
Theo is taken aback. "Harry knows?"
"Why do you think I've turned up in the middle of the night? To look at your wretched face?"
Theo gives the obligatory, "Fuck off," then bids Draco to continue. "You're right, though. May as well tell me now."
Draco feels his heart pound in his ears, his hands shaking slightly. Being discovered by Potter was one thing; admitting his guilt is something else entirely. He levels his friend with a look, only now stopping to consider that Theo might also be cross that such a large secret has been kept from him. He hadn't even let on that he was learning the Animagus transformation.
With a deep breath, he locks his gaze and wills his body to transform, shrinking down into his marten form. A blink, and he reverses the spell, standing braced, awaiting judgment.
"Well, fuck me," Theo breathes out, and stands from his chair, leaving his glass behind. "Do it again."
Draco sighs, but does as requested, staying just a few beats longer as his animal while Theo circles him, studying with narrowed eyes.
"You're her ruddy familiar, you prick. How the fuck does that even happen?"
Retaking his wizard form for a final time, Draco carries his glass to the decanter and pours a generous three fingers without invitation. "Completely by accident. It's how I left Hogwarts. Part of my cunning plan," he says with a bit of sarcastic self deprecation, "to slip away without anyone knowing how to find me. But she found me… and I've been with her since."
Theo shakes his head. "And Potter caught you out?"
Nodding, Draco confirms. "I was sloppy. I never transform near the house, but I did, and now he knows. Says he won't tell her yet, but my time of… caution… is at its end."
"What the fuck is there to be cautious about?" Theo asks, incredulous. "You tell her or you don't. Why has it even gone on this long?"
Is it breaking her trust to reveal Hermione's sorrowful state when she found him? Perhaps not since she didn't tell Draco so much as he picked up on it over a few short days. Theo likely has seen hints for himself.
"I tried to leave. As soon as she brought me home, I was looking for an escape, but she was always there at first. She was fucking sad, Nott. When I finally left, I ran into her, and she was searching for this stupid marten and looking destroyed. So… I went back." He shrugs, like that sums it up. He supposes in a way, it does.
It's a credit to Theo's odd sensitivity that he seems to grasp the finer points without much in the way of detail. "Maybe you could… find her a new familiar?"
Draco shakes his head in the negative. "Don't, alright? I've been through all of this. I can't replace myself or run away or do anything to take the marten out of the equation without leaving her bereft. I have to tell her." Theo starts to argue, but Draco cuts him off. "And I won't keep lying to her about this. I promised her I would be honest. She doesn't know about what, but I've been trying to tell her this for weeks."
"Granger is… pretty forgiving," Theo ventures, and Draco nods in agreement. "But everyone has their limit," he finishes with regret in his voice.
Draco throws back at least two fingers of the three and reaches for the decanter again. "I know."
They drink until dawn. By the time the sky has bled back into blue, Draco isn't sure if he's drunk or hungover as he stumbles home. The fact that he doesn't splinch himself is a Gods-be-damnXed miracle, and he just barely makes it up his tree in a shaky marten body, slipping through the window while Granger showers in her attached bath.
He doesn't know what he will say, no idea how he can make her understand, but he has to tell her. Potter was oddly kind to hold his tongue, but the git was right: he can't hide this forever.
Decision made, Draco lets himself slip to sleep, resolved to be honest with his witch…
But not today. He watches Hermione slip from the room, the feel of her lips on his furry head lingering. Just another day or two. In case this is the end, he just wants a few more days to love her.
Hermione finds Benedick to be a bit absent the next day. He manages to drag himself downstairs at meal times, but mostly he naps in the parlour. Harry is also a bit scarce. She is feeling a touch abandoned, but tries not to let it weigh on her. Everyone is allowed an off day. In the evening, she curls up with a book and brings Benedick to her room with her, cuddling beneath her bedclothes. She leaves the window open for Benedick's eventual roaming, noting a chill in the air as summer is giving way to autumn. She's content mostly, only wishing Draco were with her as well.
Soon enough, she knows, allowing herself a secret smile as she thinks of him fondly. He even agreed to visit the Weasleys. Knowing the bad blood between them, it strikes her just how much he has changed.
When she turns in, she douses the light by her bedside with her wand and kisses her marten on his head. "You've been so sweet to stay with me all night. I know you want to roam. Have fun, darling." She sets him gently on the floor and curls in on herself, happier than she can remember being in quite some time and looking forward to the next day. Every day, since her new life has started, is a gift.
When she wakes, quite rested, she's almost surprised to find Benedick beside her, imagining he would either stay out all night or be downstairs looking for breakfast from Harry. Hermione lifts him to carry with her and makes her way to the kitchen to find her friend.
Harry stiffens a bit when she enters but tries not to show it. He seems slightly off yet again, but she makes no mention. She's convinced more than ever he might have a secret. She hopes it's a good one.
"Morning, Harry," she tries brightly, setting Benedick down next to his empty bowls. Usually, Harry has something waiting for him, but it seems he has not had the chance yet today. No matter; the marten is her responsibility after all. "Do we have any salmon left?"
"You know, I"m not sure that we do," he says, looking down at the Prophet in his hand rather than her. "Might find some raspberries, though they were looking a bit soft."
The berries in question are more than a bit soft. They appear to be about two days from molding.
She casts a quick charm to freshen them up and puts them in Benedick's bowl. "I'll stop by the grocer on the way home," she comments absently. Harry only hums in reply.
Though he has a plate of eggs waiting for her, breakfast with Harry remains slightly tense. She doesn't want to pry, but eventually she asks if everything is alright as she gives her marten a bit of egg from her fingertips. Harry watches the action with narrowed eyes.
Looking back to her face, he smiles, though it's almost a grimace. "It's fine. Just having an off couple of days." There's a long pause during which he seems to keep glancing at her marten rather than at her. Benedick, on the other hand, is resolutely only looking her way. "How are things with Malfoy?"
He hasn't really asked after her relationship in some time. Since it's been pretty established, there hasn't been much need. She looks at him curiously but answers anyway. "Good. The same. I didn't see him yesterday, but I think we have dinner tonight."
"Hm."
Hermione doesn't like the sound of that 'hm.' "Harry Potter, stop being mysterious. What has you all worked up?"
It is evident to Hermione that her friend is conflicted. He continues not to be able to look her in the eye, instead keeping his gaze fixed on her pet.
After a long pause and dead quiet, he suddenly says loudly, "I spoke to Nott yesterday." Benedick starts at the sound of his voice. Odd for her familiar to be so jumpy. "He'd seen Draco the other night," he continues. "Said it seemed like something might be bothering him, so I wondered if he'd said anything."
Hermione is feeling wary and unsure. "He seemed fine last I saw him," she assures, continuing to study her friend. It's a stand off of awkward tension until finally Harry rubs the back of his neck and sighs.
"Right, well, I just wanted to make sure everything was alright."
"That's sweet of you," she says, though she's not entirely convinced it is. "You and Nott seem close," she adds, hedging. She's been suspicious for awhile now but was certain Harry would come to her if there was anything to tell. Maybe that's why he sounds so shifty? Trying to keep his new friendship secret. Their body language last time at the pub hinted at a closeness she is very curious to learn about.
If anything, he grows a bit more uncomfortable, eyes darting to Benedick once again. "He's, er, Theo, that is — we get on well."
"I noticed," she says with what she hopes is a reassuring smile. "I find him rather agreeable myself," she adds, silently prompting with support in case he wants to share.
"It's a very new… friendship," Harry works out. "Not what I expected."
Hermione nods, still supportive, still reassuring. "He and Draco have been friends since childhood," she comments, but that seems to only make Harry close off once more. He closes the Prophet from the table and stands.
"I need to head to the Ministry," he says. "Early meeting with Robards."
"Oh, of course. Maybe see you for lunch?"
Harry bustles around, putting his cup in the sink and setting the dishes to wash themselves. "Probably not today," he says. "See you tonight, though." And with that, he is gone.
Hermione looks down at Benedick who seems to be staring at the door. "Well, he's apparently struggling with something," she comments then picks up her marten and nuzzles his neck with the tip of her nose. "He's so obvious," she stage whispers. "I think he has something going on with a wizard behind my back." She chuckles a little, hardly noticing that Benedick seems to stiffen in her hold.
Draco storms into the Ministry, careful to stay clear of the floor where Hermione works and right into Auror Potter's office. The door is closed, but a quick detection charm tells him no one else is inside. Draco enters without knocking and slams the door behind him.
"Malfoy? What the f-"
"What is wrong with you, you prick? I thought you were going to give me time?"
Potter stands from behind his desk and grabs his wand. For one brief, horrifying moment, Draco's memories flash to their duel in sixth year, and he is afraid he miscalculated many things. He's relieved when Potter merely sends a Locking Spell at his door.
"I gave you all day yesterday, Malfoy, and all you did was cozy up to her, cuddled against her… breasts… like the utter tosser you are!"
"I was fucking hungover," he nearly yells back. "Of which I'm sure you're aware since you spent the day with your lips around Theo's cock."
The git sputters at that, trying very hard to make excuses and denials. "Don't bother, Theo as good as admitted. Look, I couldn't care less about all that, and if you two are sneaking around about it, I don't know who I'd even tell. Granger basically knows-"
"She knows?"
"Suspects," he amends. "It doesn't matter. The point is, your secret isn't the problem here. You're supposed to be helping me protect her from mine."
"Or what, you'll say something about me and Theo? That's low, even for you."
"No, Potter, or nothing. I'm not out to betray Theo, or even you for that matter. I'm trying to do right by her. But I need time and you said you'd give it."
They stare at each other for a long time, all the fight seeming to go out of them. Finally, Potter sits and asks in a quieter tone. "How much? How much time? Lying to her… I don't do this, Malfoy. I don't like to lie to her. I feel bad enough keeping Theo from her, but that's only until his father receives the Kiss. Once that's done, Theo inherits, and he's free to make his own choices."
Feeling defeated himself, Draco falls down into the chair opposite Potter, staring at the window charmed to show a sunny afternoon. "I don't know. You have no fucking idea how much this kills me. I'm not enjoying this little charade, despite what you may think. I just kept thinking… if I waited, maybe I'd find a way. Give her a new pet or find a way for Benedick to be gone… I've only just accepted that's not going to happen."
He looks back at Potter and finishes, "Whatever happens, I'm going to tell her, and just pray it doesn't hurt her too much."
"Theo wants to help you. Come up with some brilliant plan to get you out of this mess."
Draco smiles a little, grateful in spite of himself, but then promptly frowns and asks, "And you? I suppose you'd like to watch me fuck it all up so Granger never wants to see me again."
"No, actually, you overgrown weasel, I want to see Hermione happy. I just don't see a way to make that happen without her mourning either a pet or a boyfriend. Otherwise, killing off the marten would be my first suggestion," he says with a nasty grin.
"You can be fucking terrifying, you know that, Potter?" Draco crosses his arms over his chest, adopting a rather petulant position.
"I am the Savior of the Wizarding World," he says with a shrug and a smile. Draco isn't sure if that's confirmation or denial.
Draco leaves not long after, looking back at Potter as he lays his hands on the knob of the door. "For what it's worth, which might be very little, I really didn't plan for this. If I'd known…"
He hesitates. What would he have done if he had known? He thinks of Hermione's warm eyes and delicate hands, her lips turned up into a smile, curls blowing softly around her face. Would they have ever made it to this place if he hadn't been there in the form of unconditional love when her heart was so closed?
"I don't know what I would have done," he admits. "Maybe the exact same stupid shite. But I'm not giving her up without a fight. Not unless she herself asks me to."
He prays all the way back to Grimmauld that she doesn't.
Thanks again! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and would love to hear from you! Back in a few days :)