"I have a date."

The session was almost halfway finished and Draco couldn't hold it in any longer. Penelope smiled, and that always made Draco feel like he had done something right. If he could keep Penelope optimistic, perhaps there was hope for him.

"With whom?"

"Hermione Granger." Draco laced his fingers together and pressed one thumb down firmly onto the other. "I am taking her out on Sunday since it is the only day she has off now that she is head of the IMC."

"This is wonderful news!"

Draco nodded and Penelope scribbled a note on the corner of her parchment.

"It appears I am more excited about your date than you are."

"I am excited," Draco insisted, "I have wanted this for months. But I am also very, very scared."

"Of what?"

"Of fucking it up. If this relationship fails, it will be my fault. Hermione is brilliant, successful, and a bloody war hero! What am I? Who the hell is Draco Malfoy compared to that?"

"Why are you making this a competition?" Penelope asked with a frown.

"Because she could have anyone. I want this to work more than anything. Hermione is the one person that I trust to ..." Draco shook his head. "She could have anyone and I do not want to give her any more reasons not to choose me."

"Go back to the first bit. Hermione is the one person you trust to ... what?"

Draco alternated the placement of his thumbs and pressed down again.

"After what happened with Astoria, I am not sure I have the confidence to do this. I've always failed at falling in love. With Gabrielle, I was too young and rash to do it right. I was in denial about what was happening to me, but I knew something was wrong and I loved her enough to keep her out of it. I love Blaise as a friend, but we were never meant to be more. Not that I didn't imagine it, because I did, but it was never an endgame. Then I took Astoria into my arms and nearly allowed her to ruin me."

"Does she continue to influence you?"

"Her words do, yes," Draco agreed. "When I was on my own in France, I knew I was becoming exactly what she said I was: a walking corpse. Astoria said no one would ever love me like this, and I thought she was right. However, Hermione does not need me to be better. She wants me even if I am still struggling to move forward as long as I keep trying. But what if I am too needy or too slow recovering? I have to be at a certain level for her to want to stay."

"No," Penelope said, "I don't believe that to be true. The only thing you need for her to stay is to offer her as much support as she gives to you."

"Supporting each other has never been an issue. Even as friends, I wanted to listen to her problems. That was our first lunch together, actually, me listening to her talk about therapy and Weasley and the divorce—"

"Fantastic! Your friendship was based on that, on you two honestly caring about each other. That indicates what's happening is genuine. You don't need to force it along, Draco. Do not try to rush just because you believe Hermione needs it. She sees you for you."

"Guilt and pain," Draco countered, "that is what she sees."

"She sees you trying to overcome the guilt and pain."

"But how long will she wait? If I take this step and trip all over myself, can we still be friends? If it does work, am I going to do the same thing I did with Gabby? Making excuses to end it before she sees too much of me."

"I think you are concerned about seeing too much of yourself," replied Penelope.

Draco nodded.

"When Hermione agreed to go on a date, I felt so much hope for my own future. It was the first time I allowed myself to look much further than tomorrow, you know? Then I was scared because I haven't felt that much of anything since the twins were born."

"That was the last time you welcomed someone into your life and trusted they wouldn't hurt you, right?"

"Astoria was the last person I welcomed into my life and trusted wouldn't hurt me."

"When she agreed to go out with you, did you feel that same sense of hope you found with Hermione Granger?"

Draco thought about it for a full minute. There was never a specific moment Astoria went from being his friend to his girlfriend. They spent some time together, spent more time together, then she snogged him and then they were dating.

"When I think about Astoria, I remember strawberry shampoo and dark lipstick. Her favourite band was the Quaffle Waffles and she stopped whatever she was doing to dance if one of their songs came on the radio. I remember how she would never leave me alone in a room of men, but was perfectly content to leave me alone in rooms filled with beautiful women."

Penelope wondered, "Why do you believe she did that?"

"She thought she outshone other women for my affections, but did not believe she could compete with men."

"Your bisexuality was a problem for her?"

"Always!" Draco balled his hands into fists and crossed his arms. "She felt like she was fending off the whole world, as though everyone was somehow available to me."

"Why do you believe she competed for your affection at all?" asked Penelope. "Any solid relationship is built on a foundation of trust."

"It is not as though there is a line of people waiting to date me. Shag me, yes, and at the time all I wanted was for people to touch me because I couldn't stand the way I felt in my body. If someone else wanted it, though, that was a good enough substitute. That, combined with my attraction to men and women, created a narrative I had no control over. Maybe that is why Astoria and I worked so well at first; we were always competing against the world. Astoria got upset at the end because she finally realized there was nothing left in me to win."

"I don't believe that. There is so much inside of you that you refuse to let out. Maybe you are worried Hermione Granger will pull it out of you and are afraid of what she'll find."

"I know what she will find," Draco snapped, "and that is the problem. I buried everything for a reason."

"Are you happy with the consequences of that decision?"

"Of course not."

"Then you have to let someone in."

"Isn't that what I am doing with you?" asked Draco. "Isn't that the point of this?"

"You are trying to open up," Penelope agreed. "I am a good benchmark, but I am not part of your life the way someone like Hermione Granger is. There are no consequences if you tell me something shocking, something shameful. If you were to tell her, however, you cannot predict the outcome."

Draco scoffed, "Oh, I can."

"Why do you believe that?"

"Because I let someone inside my head before and it went horribly wrong."

Penelope hummed softly to herself and made another note on her parchment. Before Draco could try to read it, she asked,

"What happened?"

"The Wizengamot doesn't allow Veritaserum in testimony, but they will permit a licensed Legilimens to pick around inside someone's brain for the truth. When it came to my time with the Dark Lord, I never had anything to hide. Everyone knew what I had done, so I submitted my mind for examination."

"That must have been strange for you."

"Absolutely, I hadn't let my shields down for years. The Legilimens lasted about eight seconds inside my head, and when I came to he was passed out on the floor. He spent a week at St. Mungo's in the loony ward after just a taste of what goes on inside of me. Maybe Astoria was right," Draco realized. "No one will ever love me because of this."

Penelope put down her quill and asked, "May I be blunt for a moment?"

Draco nodded. Why the hell not?

"You don't strike me as the sort of man who scares easily. So why are you afraid of entering a relationship with Hermione Granger? Why are you afraid of entering a relationship with someone who clearly cares about you?"

"Because what if she sees me the same way Astoria did?"

"You hid things from Astoria Greengrass. You aren't hiding anything from Hermione Granger, are you?"

"Of course not."

"Who do you believe is stronger, Hermione Granger or the Wizengamot-appointed Legilimens?"

"Hermione, obviously."

"Who is the one person you think is strong enough to see inside your mind and accept what they find?"

"You."

Penelope chuckled and said, "You are sweet, but our relationship is therapist-to-client, one based on logical reasoning. I can take a step back and see how your pieces fit together, but I'm not much for comforting you afterward. If I were to guess, there is another logic-oriented person in your life you'd let see behind your walls."

Damn, she was good. Draco let his hands fall into his lap and slumped back in the chair. Penelope was right and he was making excuses for himself.

"I just don't understand what she sees to make her believe this is a good idea."

"Then we have your assignment for next week."

"Just what I wanted," Draco groaned, "more bloody homework."

"I want you to find three things you like about yourself."

"Only three?"

"More, if you like," Penelope said, "but at least three."

"I can do that."

"I hope so." She placed the quill back in the ink jar and sighed. "I really hope so."

.oOo.

Draco told Hermione his plan for their date at lunch on Thursday; a picnic dinner in the manor garden. They could watch the sun set and be together without worrying whether anyone could see. She agreed immediately, and it made him laugh because she was somehow less frightened of Draco's home than he was.

"It occurred to me that our time together is spent almost entirely around other people. Parties, Blaise's cooking lessons, therapy ... I want time with you where I don't have to think about who is watching. No interruptions."

Draco Apparated onto Hermione's front steps at 5:30 on Sunday afternoon. She opened the door and pulled Draco down into a kiss before he could so much as breathe. He smiled against her lips then pulled away to say,

"Hello to you, too."

"Sorry," Hermione replied. She did not release her grip on his shirt collar. "After not being able to do that on Thursday or Saturday, snogging you is all I have been able to think about."

Draco kissed her quickly, then rested his forehead on hers.

"I missed you."

"You saw me yesterday," Hermione said through a laugh.

"An hour here, an hour there ..."

"Tonight you can have all the time you want."

Draco looked down at her outfit and was mildly disappointed. She wore a large purple jumper, jeans, and boots. Casual, great picnic wear, but her tits were fully covered. Draco smiled to himself, thinking he'd been spoiled the past few times they were together. Hermione had left her hair in its untamed, frizzy curls and he was developing a fondness for that look. She was comfortable enough around him to be herself, and that was its own accomplishment.

There was a large blanket in the grass on the outskirts of the garden, with Malfoy Manor barely visible in the distance. Purple and yellow flowers lined the path, but this part of the garden was Draco's favourite because of its simplicity. During his trial, he would lay out on a blanket and stare up at the stars for fear he'd never see them again.

The first hour of their date was wonderful. Draco let go of his insecurities and the fear he would somehow muck everything up before it even got started. He made the meal himself and felt he earned it. He put in the effort to make an amazing meal for their date, and not even his eating disorder would mess it up for him. Eating with Hermione was second-nature, anyway.

"I am hoping to get my Saturdays back soon," she said.

Draco tossed a couple raspberries into his mouth and asked, "Do you like being head of the IMC?"

"I like accomplishing more things, working toward my own goals instead of following someone else's agenda. But politicking has never been my strength—"

"You don't say?" Draco teased.

Hermione threw a grape at him, which he caught and also popped into his mouth.

"To me there is right and there is wrong, but some delegates can be swayed by other things. I am always trying to figure out who has been offered what, and how I can bring them back to the table."

"Remind them you are Hermione Granger and that should be enough."

"It's not. For example, I am working on a treaty with the Merpeople regarding territorial rights along the coasts of Portugal, Spain, and France. The shipping and maritime liaison got to the French foreign minister first; now I am struggling to keep the treaty together while I fight to get him back."

"The French foreign minister," Draco asked, "is that Forestier?"

Hermione nodded.

"I'll ask Blaise to get him a reservation at Assiette Verde. Bastard's been trying to get in for months, but Blaise keeps avoiding him. That should get you what you need."

Hermione frowned.

"You're saying I can win him over with a dinner table?"

"People are fickle, Hermione, they want what they want and your opposition will always try to figure out what that is. You have to one-up them or find some leverage. In this case, use a reservation to make the change you need to make."

Hermione conceded, "You are better at this than I am."

Draco didn't respond for awhile. He began placing cutlery back in the basket, and when that was done he started picking invisible fuzz off the blanket. He hated speaking about the trial. Hell, even Penelope had to pry it out of him most of the time.

"We all learned a lot of things from the war, but my most important lesson came afterward. It did not matter how good a defense I had at my trial, I was going to Azkaban. Not for my own mistakes, but as recompense for my father's. Potter is the only reason I was acquitted, so I learned political capital is the only protection I have."

Hermione shifted closer to Draco on the blanket and took his hand. She didn't say anything. Draco listened to the sounds of the garden around them; bugs humming somewhere in the distance, the splash of the fountain at the garden's centre, and a slight breeze rustling the leaves of the trees behind them. As the sun set, the sky was cast in an orange, pink, and purple glow. It was so beautiful Draco couldn't look away.

He had been on the move for so long that he couldn't remember the last time he stopped to truly enjoy a moment. It was always forward or backward, shoving food into his face or vomiting it back. Even during his stay in France he was falling further into denial. Finally, Draco felt like he could breathe.

Hermione whispered, "What are you thinking about?"

"Penelope asked me to think of three things I like about myself. It is harder than I thought it would be. I like that my hair stopped falling out and running has gotten easier, but I don't believe those are the sorts of things she wants."

Hermione pressed a light kiss to Draco's cheek.

"Then I will give you three things I like. How you treat Scarlett and Sebastien with as much dignity as you would treat anyone else, because it says a lot about the type of father you will be. When you felt you had no one to turn to after your horrible date with Astoria, you came to me. It showed how important our friendship is to you." She paused for a moment before saying, "I also like that you're a good dancer."

Draco grinned as the top of the sun sank below the horizon, plunging them into near-darkness. He turned to face Hermione and pulled her closer so they were nearly nose-to-nose. They were lit only by fairies glowing in the hedge and candles lining the walking path. Draco asked,

"How am I doing for a first date?"

"Not bad."

"Oh, not bad?" Draco laughed. "Any notes?"

"It has been almost perfect," Hermione replied, "but you have made one big mistake."

"And what's that?"

"We have been here over an hour and you haven't kissed me yet."

Draco softly pressed his lips against Hermione's and the rest of the world faded away. He had never been so lost in another person. When her hands rested on his waist, Draco was not concerned with how much of him there was to hold onto. In fact, he hardly thought about himself at all. Hermione's lips parted so he deepened the kiss. His fingers caught in Hermione's curls and her legs were tangled up in his as she pressed the pads of her fingers against his cheek. Draco was so caught up in the moment he lost his balance, fell onto his side and took Hermione down with him. They ended up laughing as a single pile of limbs on top of the blanket.

"God," Draco said between wheezing bursts of laughter, "I was s-so afraid of ... of fucking ... this up."

"You didn't," Hermione said from somewhere on top of him. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time."

"You mean that?"

Hermione rolled off and laid on the blanket next to him.

"I do."

"Does that mean we will do this again?"

She said, "Same time next Sunday."

"It's a date."