"Are you sure, Malfoy?" Harry looks up at him from behind his glasses. His eyes are narrowed in concentration, mulling over Draco's suspicions.
"Of course he's sure!" Hermione is perched up on the edge of his desk, fiddling with a quill she had picked up. She crosses her legs and he tries not to let the shiny black heels distract him. These shoes were certainly a new development...not that he was complaining. The click-click announcing her arrival was a surprise, she had always seemed to favor more sensible flats before.
When Draco had told Harry that he had something he would like to discuss, Potter had immediately called on Hermione.
Draco sighs, "I wish I wasn't serious. The symbol feels too familiar. It could be some old crest or something else dramatic." He slips off the serpent ring and hands it to Harry. Harry holds it up to the light, examining it from all angles.
"Pity, I didn't know 'crazy' was inherited. You ought to be careful; but then again, maybe it's too late. Drama seems to run in the family." Potter quips.
"At least I have a family" Draco mumbles. A scandalized gasp leaves Granger and Potter's body shakes with laughter. "What? Too much? Too far?" Draco intones, arching a brow in question.
"No, no. That one was good. It almost hurt." Potter says.
Hermione looks at the pair in disbelief, "Boys!" She shakes her head, shocked at the strange rapport. Old habits die hard. The pair had managed to strike a delicate balance of snark and amiability.
She tucks her hair behind her ear with a sigh. Today, she has pulled back half her hair; twisted into some kind of intricate braid held back with a ribbon. The light gold interwoven in the strand shimmers each time she moves. It's subtle enough, but it is driving him insane. Draco has already wasted too much time thinking about how to undo it.
"Well, we certainly can't report this to Xavier. He already hates you." She bites her lip.
"Yes, one of the many " Potter chimes in. Granger shoots him a look before continuing,
"We ought to research it. Do you know where to start? Some documentation… a family tapestry, heirloom or relic?" Harry drops the ring into Granger's palm. She hums, "I see what you mean though, the snake is startlingly similar to the one at the crime scene."
Draco takes a moment to think. The symbol is hazy in his memory, vague in his recall. He suspects he may have come across it when he was younger, those days when he sat beside his father learning about his family; finding pride in his name.
"There are…. journals. Family records of sorts. There is no guarantee, but it might be a place to start." He says with some trepidation. All those records aren't clean, he knows this for a fact. Those records are proof of poorly thought out decisions and their consequences. They are proof of secrets and rumors and hidden agendas.
Then again, it's not as if the Malfoy family is currently esteemed either. The idea of giving Granger access to it all makes him uneasy, but what else could he do?
Granger nods, holding the ring back up to him. "Then we start there. Swing by my office later, Malfoy. We will figure this out." He grabs the ring, slipping it back on.
She fiddles with the cuff of her dress shirt, "I guess I'll be revisiting the esteemed Malfoy archives sooner than I had expected." Granger offers him a small smile- shrugging her shoulders.
"When in doubt, go to the library! Isn't that right 'Mione?" Potter mocks. She gives an exaggerated eye roll in response, reaching across to swat at him.
Draco turns the ring around, running his finger over the engraving of the family motto.
Sanctimonia Vincet Semper
"Regardless Granger, I had rather hoped you'd revisit under less troubling circumstances."
I trust you will make better decisions regarding this family.
ooo
"Granger?" Draco pops his head into her office. It looks as if the place has been hit by a hurricane. He ducks, narrowly avoiding a memo on its way out. Files are littered everywhere and open on every surface. A wall is covered with articles and photographs, a red thread connecting locations. It is a chaotic web of information which could only be comprehensible to her.
He almost doesn't notice her amidst the disarray. She is crouched down in a corner, shuffling through a box, searching for something. Draco flops down into her desk chair.
The whole place is a contrast to Draco's own tidy little space, where everything has its own place and label. Granger functions on her own brand of organization, impossible for anyone to decipher. He swivels around in the chair, waiting for her; taking this time to investigate her little space.
A small bookcase situated in the corner is overflowing, Draco notes many familiar titles. It's a mixture of both fiction and non-fiction. He sees a picture moving in a frame, a much younger Granger laughing alongside Weasley and Potter. The sun is shining bright and you can just make out Ginny in the corner. The background hosts a blur of redheads- it must be a memento from an older summer, a simpler time.
A small snow globe of the Eiffel tower is on the edge of her desk. He wonders if this is a keepsake from the trip she had brought up with Pansy. Another looping picture catches his eye; The Daily Prophet half hidden beneath the mess of parchment. He carefully pulls it out.
GRANGER-WEASLEY POWER COUPLE GETTING COZY AT QUIDDITCH MATCH
Power Golden Couple spotted at charity event!
It is a snapshot from Friday, a moment caught sometime after the match. He watches the image of Hermione pull Weasley into a hug, an exasperated fond smile on her lips. Draco doesn't get a chance to skim the article in its entirety as Granger walks up to him. She notices the article in his hand and shakes her head, "Honestly! It's like they've run out of actual news to report."
He makes a non committal hum. "Yes, but I reckon the masses enjoy seeing their Golden Girl happy."
She lets out a huff of air to get rid of the hair crowding her vision. Her hands are filled with books and files that she shoves into drawers and cabinets. She storms around her space, recklessly throwing things into some semblance of order. "It's a load of rubbish, isn't it?" The comment sends his heart racing.
"So, you aren't with Weasley?"
A flick of her wand closes the haphazardly open boxes she was rummaging around in before.
"Merlin, no! We were better suited as friends, it became painfully obvious rather soon" She is turned away from him, still organizing her things and Draco is grateful. He is sure he looks a sight. This was certainly news to him.
Pansy was sprawled across him in the common room. Her feet were perched in Blaise's lap who was reading through a text for transfiguration. She pokes at him, trying to get his attention.
"Oi!" She kicks at his book. With an exasperated sigh, Blaise puts down his book and shoves her legs off of him.
"Hey! What gives?" Pansy sniffs "I'll forgive you just this once, you won't believe what I've heard."
As much as Blaise tried to act aloof, he knew as well as Draco how powerful rumors could be- how hard they could hit. Besides, Blaise could rival any socialite with his rampant need for gossip.
"Your little girlfriend certainly didn't smell you in her Amortentia… unless you've developed a new proclivity for more floral scents."
"What Daphne and I do is none of your business." He monotones in reply. This causes Pansy to giggle and Draco absently runs his fingers through her hair, only half heartedly listening to them. He had an assignment to complete, something far more important than all of this- something more important than them.
He had to do this for his parents. He had to do this for his family. He had to be strong. Aunt Bella's lessons were fresh in his memory. Hours spent agonizing over magic beyond his years. Hours spent agonizing over magic he didn't want to learn in the first place.
"—Granger, can you believe it?" The name brings him back from the extensive list of charms running through his head. The vanishing cabinet was his only hope.
"That's why I thought she was going to murder Brown in Herbology the other day!" Blaise exclaims with glee. "You should've seen the way she was glaring at her, if looks could kill…"
"I know! Potter, I would understand, but Weasley? He has no manners and no class. He's poor as dirt…. then again maybe that's why they're made for each other. The Weasley's are a pathetic excuse for a Pureblood Family. Filthy Blood Traitors. " Pansy's tone is harsh and Draco has to fight a wince. Severus's voice comes to him, reminding him. It wouldn't do anyone good to know about his… fascination.
His mind is whirring, out of everything, this was something he hadn't ever had seen the trio work together as a unit throughout the past five years. He had seen and heard stories of them marching into impossible situations. Saint Potter, Draco had thought Granger might… they were inseparable weren't they? There were always rumors and suspicions- Potter and Granger sneaking about Hogwarts at all hours of the day. He could have accepted that.
Freshly mown grass, new parchment…. The list had seemed innocuous enough. He remembers that day in class, he remembers the way she suddenly went quiet. He remembers the flush that overtook her, embarrassment evident.
Ronald Weasley. The loud, obnoxious, rather dimwitted oaf! Not him. Not him.
It couldn't be Draco but Salazar, why Weasley?
He remembers the distinct smell of apples, vanilla and old books, or rather ink and leather in general. The potion made him feel warm. It felt familiar and comfortable. It reminded him of rainy days cooped up within the library. It reminded him of zipping across the sky on his broom on early mornings.
Of course, he told everyone he smelled the French rose perfume Pansy favored, along with chocolate and something else. The aroma was something deep and rich and intoxicating, something he knew in his heart wasn't Pansy at all. Perhaps, Granger had lied as well. Then again, she was far too Gryffindor for that.
Granger and Weasley. Granger and Weasley. Granger and Weasley.
Draco had access to an abundance of money and an affluent lifestyle. The Weasley's were locked in a blatant financial struggle. These were apparent facts. It seemed unfair somehow that Weasley could have the one thing he truly wanted.
Hermione Granger's name had always been entwined with Ronald Weasley. It was bizarre to think they weren't involved. It was a shock to say nonetheless. Something resembling hope swells up in his chest, something he tries desperately to shove down.
She taps his shoulder, gesturing at him to get up. "Come on then, before we leave I have to go talk to Theo."
Ah, Theodore Nott.
Hermione Granger was not meant to be his; not in any capacity.
"Lead the way."
The pair makes their way down to the depths of the ministry. Draco had heard about the hidden Department of Mysteries. During that fifth year so long ago, a fanciful part of him had even considered a possible career as an esteemed Unspeakable. A life dedicated to research, he had always been a dab hand at potions.
It was impossible however, even then he knew his duty as a Malfoy. The signet ring on his thumb was always a reminder of who he was supposed to be. Draco used to be so excited to receive its brother, the patriarchal family ring- a symbol of pride. Now, he had the silver serpent coiled around his finger; he couldn't understand why he had ever coveted it.
Granger stops abruptly and Draco almost bumps into her. He turns towards her, a question ready but the words die on his lips. She looks pale, staring at an innocuous corridor.
"Granger?"
She shakes her head and straightens up. She rolls her shoulders back and taking a deep breath moves forward. He knows better than to ask questions and yet her box rattles, begging for answers.
Draco had heard rumors, of course. Potter, Granger and Weasley breaking into the Ministry- he never got any confirmation. He just remembers the distraught letter from his mother, informing him of Lucius Malfoy's arrest.
The hustle and bustle of the Ministry fades as they make their way toward the Unspeakable offices. Granger leads the way, knocking before entering a small room.
"Any progress?"
"Hello to you too, Hermione." Theo looks up from where he was hunched over on his desk. He slips a pair of glasses off his face. "Draco." He says in lieu of a greeting.
Draco nods in reply, leaning against the wall. Granger takes a seat in front of Theo's desk.
"Tell me you have good news, Theo." She sounds about as tired as Theo looks.
Theo runs a hand through his hair, "I've just wrapped up the reports, we can officially connect the two homicide cases. The dark curse that mangled Dennis has the same trace as the one used on Millie." He grimaces.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Granger slumps back into the chair. "We have news as well"
Draco decides to jump in and briefly summarizes the conversation he had with Potter earlier.
Theo whistles. "I've got to hand it to you. You've managed to piss someone off to the extent of actual criminal activity"
"Yes...It's hard being this adored." He lays on with heavy sarcasm.
"We don't know if it's actually a Malfoy emblem" Granger pipes in, rifling through Theo's notes. "So, Malfoy and I are going to look through some of his family journals."
Theo hums in approval, handing her another stack of paper. Draco notes how easily they work together. "You always did like research, Hermione." The voice is teasing and the reaction nearly instant as Granger practically jumps up.
"It was once! I forgot once!"
This sends them both into peels of laughter. An obvious inside joke. When had this happened? How had it happened? Draco rolls his ring around his thumb.
Look at me, Granger.
"Do you truly think your family kept records?" She turns towards Draco, tilting her head. "I mean… will we actually find something?"
Theo's eyes crinkle up at the corners and he lets out a low chuckle. "Granger, you underestimate the extent of Pureblood mania. They had a penchant for documentation. I'm sure if this symbol is related to Draco's family, they'll have a record of it undoubtedly."
Well, he isn't wrong.
ooo
Granger's excitement is palpable. "I didn't think I'd get to be back here so soon!" Hermione Granger and her books. He guides her through the library and towards a spiraling staircase situated off to the corner.
She walks through the library with the same reverence she had the last time, her fingers graze the intricate metal and she leans over the railing- gazing at the room in its entirety.
"If I had access to this… Merlin" Her voice is hushed; awe stricken. Draco wonders if he should mention the small alcove they have hidden on the third level. He smirks, Granger might actually faint.
He walks back to a little sitting nook. He takes out his wand with a flourish and with a swish, the fireplace lights up. As if on cue, Pippa appears with tea
"Are all your elves free?" Her voice is astonished as she takes a seat.
"The ones that stayed, yes." He walks around the space, summoning the stack of journals they will have to comb through.
"I've only seen Pippa around."
Draco hums, "She is Mother's personal elf… There are a few in the kitchen. I believe a few stayed in the gardens." He hands her half the stack and sits down in the chair next to her.
"Well, I hadn't expected there to be so many journals!"
"Yes well.. in case you hadn't noticed… my family is rather obsessive regarding family." She turns away, fighting a smile. "If this family has a claim to that symbol, it must be documented somewhere."
The pair lapses into a comfortable silence, only broken by Grangers occasional questions. As the hours drag by, Hermione slips off her heels and tucks her legs under her, getting comfortable. He leans back into his own armchair, skimming through the thoughts of his ancestors and getting familiar with his heritage. He can't help his eyes from flickering to her form every so often.
Her head is tilted in thought and she nibbles at the end of her quill.
It seems to be a habit she still hasn't managed to get rid of- Draco wonders if she even realizes she does it.
Draco is sitting in the back of the potions classroom, eyes fixed on his least favorite Gryffindor. Hermione Granger sits toward the front of the classroom as usual, her bodyguards slumped at her sides. Her hair is a damn mess today, the humidity from the potion causing it to frizz up even more. Would it kill her to use a smoothing charm? She is waiting on her draught to brew and sucks on the end of the quill in thought. It's an awful habit- completely destroys the quill.
Draco can't stop staring at the way her lips wrap around the end, her pink tongue just barely visible. Had her lips always been so full? She takes in more of the quill in her mouth and he has to fight a groan. It is a disgusting habit- one she should really try to fix. Swot.
Shamefully, he wonders what it might be like to feel her lips wrapped around him. Draco wonders if that cursed pink tongue would feel good licking him up and down. He fights a shudder. 'It would be a good way to put her loud mouth to use!' His mind supplies unhelpfully. He imagines taking that frizzy hair and wrapping it around his hand, tugging on it.
He gulps and slumps down further. She must've worked out whatever was perplexing her because she takes the quill out and dips it into an inkwell before leaning down and writing furiously. The wretched thoughts, however, are already in Draco's head and it seems like they are here to stay.
Images fly by in quick succession- Hermione Granger down on her knees; his fingers in her hair, on her jaw. Granger in front of him; on top of him. He sees her in his mind's eye, draped on him; tangled with him; his hands gripping her waist, guiding her, moving her- up and down and up and down. He digs his fingers into his thighs- trying to stave off his imagination.
Granger. Granger. couldn't get her out of his at me, Granger. A hand lands on his shoulder, a gentle squeeze.
"I suggest you pay more attention to your cauldron Mr. Malfoy" Snape's drawl holds an undercurrent of a warning. Draco stiffens, moving forward to see his potion turn a light lavender hue, it is complete. He hurries to turn off the flame before the potion overheats.
"Stay back after class Malfoy." Snape orders as he walks towards the next table. The intimidating tone is enough to uncoil the knot in his stomach, it is enough to calm down his racing heart.
When the rest of the class trickles out, Draco shoves his books into his satchel and slinks his way up to the front of the class. Severus gestures at him to take a seat in front of his desk.
"Draco, are you aware of the… guests your family will be hosting this coming summer?" Severus looks at him pointedly and Draco nods sharply. His father had been meeting with older acquaintances, the incident at the Quidditch World Cup was still clear in his mind's eye. Changes were coming; were already happening regardless of what the Ministry said.
Hooded and cloaked figures shadowed his home. There were expectations for his family now that He was back.
"Then, do you think it wise to hold such unwise thoughts for someone so….unsuitable?"
Draco's hold tightens around his satchel, "What… What are you…. Have you been reading my mind?!" He feels his cheeks burn.
"Are you telling me you are surprised? You've been practically screaming your thoughts at me throughout this hour." Severus shuffles through the homework assignments the class had submitted, lining them all up. Pointing his wand at a cabinet he summons a red inkwell.
"It doesn't mean anything." Draco replies, quite adamant. A strange desperation claws in his chest, he knew he wasn't supposed to be thinking about Granger at all- let alone painting vivid fantasies.
"Is that what you will tell Him as well?" The question has a deliberate forced casual cadence. There is nothing insignificant about His arrival, nothing relaxed about it. Severus starts marking up the parchment in front of him, red streaking across-unbiased and strict.
Draco looks straight forward, staring at the homework being graded. His knuckles turn white from his tightening grip. He remains silent.
"Miss Granger is an exceptional witch." Severus mentions and it's so strange hearing him compliment someone, let alone Granger.
Hermione Granger. Gryffindor. Resident bookworm with her stupid hair and know-it-all attitude and swotty mouth. Her mouth-
"If you could stop… screaming your rather… explicit thoughts…" Severus sounds pained and levels a disgusted look at Draco.
Draco is burning, was he truly so easy to read? He will never live down this embarrassment.
"It's a simple enough fix, Draco."
He blinks. "Could you stop doing that? Actually, how are you doing that?" Draco is he didn't know any better, he would swear he saw the corners of Snape's lips quiver up into a smile. The potions professor gets up with a flourish, black cloak billowing out behind him as he walks towards a bookshelf. He pulls out a book and hands it to Magik Vol. 1: Occlumency
"I expect you to have read this by next week. I can not stress enough how important this will be for you. Keep yourself safe… if you want to keep her safe."
Draco simply nods and starts to make his way out. The quicker he removes himself from this situation the better.
A prickly sensation crawls up his back, setting his teeth on edge. He can feel Granger staring at him. Draco wonders who she sees. Does she still see the young boy hurling insults at her? Perhaps she sees the scared teenager?
Does she see a Death Eater?
Can she see him- would she ever care to?
He slowly looks up from his own work, ready to meet her gaze but she swiftly turns back to her work. Her hair is piled up onto her head, held in place by her wand. A few errant curls have escaped over the course of the hours, the stack of journals nowhere near complete. The dying fire is the only indication of time passing.
The duo hadn't found any references to an older crest. It was too optimistic to have hoped for quick answers and yet-
I trust you will make better decisions regarding this family.
There was a killer targeting Muggleborns and Blood Traitors. Someone who was potentially doing it all in the name of his family.
Malfoy. Bad Faith.
There is a room filled with shelves that touch the sky. The shelves are filled with boxes under lock and key.
Draco picks up an empty box. He considers it in his hands, and transforms it into a strong silver. He carefully unlatches the box and reveals a rich emerald lining. He traces the velvet interior before carefully placing pages of notes into it.
Next, he picks up the official case files and drops them in. He considers the snake coiled around the skull for a moment before placing it inside as well. It is followed by the list of possible suspects, a list of Death Eaters that included him. Lastly, he grabs a picture of a smiling Millie, a happy memory of a classmate and quickly closes the box with a resounding snap. An intricate 'M' which is a twin to the one on his signet ring slowly appears on the lid.
Draco takes this new box and places it on a shelf with a resounding thud.
The shelf shakes under the new weight.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
A sharp crack echoes through their dim little corner, "Mistress is asking Miss and Master to join the family for dinner!" Pippa's squeak echoes.
Granger lets out a whoosh of hair, blowing curls out of her face. Slowly she straightens up and stretches her hands over her head. A quick tempus charm reveals the late hour.
"Good Godric, I lost track of time! I really ought to be leaving." She starts gathering up the journals and books spread around her, carefully maneuvering them into piles. He gets up from his arm chair to do the same.
"You heard the elf, Granger. Your presence is wanted for family dinner."
"First of all, Malfoy; that elf has a name- use it. Next, you said it yourself, it's a family dinner. I wouldn't want to impose."
"Do you think it's a good idea to go against my mother's wishes? If so, you're certainly braver than most."
She bites her lower lip "Come on! Where is that Gryffindor courage your lot preaches?" She huffs out a laugh. Draco moves towards her offering her the crook of his elbow a force of habit ingrained into him. She loops her arm through, as if it's second nature and he grins inwardly how seamlessly she seems to fit into his side.
As they walk through the halls of the Manor, she breaks the companionable silence, looking at him "We barely made a dent in the pile, I certainly didn't find any reference to an older family crest."
"Nor did I. I reckon I'll be spending a lot more time brushing up on family history." It is a sobering thought. The journals are unfiltered thoughts, some startlingly harsh. The inherent belief in a superiority, regardless of blood is apparent. The Malfoy family has always had a reputation to uphold within the society.
"Would you mind if I took some of the journals home?" She questions. Draco wonders how she can stand it. How can she be so willing to pour through something so filled with hate?
"You're busy as it is Granger, I don't- " She cuts him off. "I don't mind, Draco."
How could he ever refuse her? Draco nods in acquiesce as they approach the Lesser Dining Room. He had taken care to detour through the Manor, no need to unnecessarily bring up memories they'd both rather forget.
"Miss Granger...how kind of you for us to join us" His father nods at the pair, eyes lingering on Hermione's arm looped through his. Draco guides her towards the table, pulling out a chair.
"I assure you the pleasure is mine, Mr. Malfoy" Her voice is even, a match to his father's calm cadence.
"My wife is quite enamored with you. As well as Andromeda." The tone is matter of fact, Draco recognizes it well. It is a voice to invite confidence, it is a voice that has pulled many political strings behind the scene. His parents have always been apt at this particular game of chess.
"Oh dear, don't go spilling our secrets! Can you blame me? Hermione is quite a formidable witch." The comment is innocuous enough; the shy accompanying smile could put any debutante to shame.
The slightest upward curl of his lips betrayed his father's stoic façade, "Indeed. You would be hard pressed to find someone who disagrees, my love." Draco wonders what Hermione sees, is the adoration and regard his father holds for his wife as blatantly obvious to her as well?
"Miss Granger, am I correct in assuming that you enjoy your role within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" Am I correct in assuming that you hold a position of influence?
It is always about reading into the pauses; into what hasn't been said. Granger takes a delicate sip of water, "I am currently a case investigator, the more research based and consequently less glamorous sort of Auror."
'Let the game begins' Draco thinks wryly to himself.
A white pawn moves to start the match.
"Excellent to hear. Almost all important wizards-" His mother clears her throat causing a quick amendment "- and witches have gotten their start within the DMLE. Shacklebolt was much the same, if I remember correctly." Shacklebolt is the current Minister of Magic. Can we expect the same out of you one day?
The art of subtlety is often amiss within Gryffindors, this becomes apparent as a wild blush steals across her face, "Sir, I am perfectly content with my position. I did not take it with any ulterior motives."
Draco decides to cut in, "Content… but not satisfied?"
She huffs, whipping around to look at him, "I am where I am needed!"
"Nativity does not suit you Miss Granger, I for one would like to see someone sensible for Minister within my lifetime." The shock is apparent. His father has managed to do something widely considered impossible. Hermione Granger is speechless.
After a moment's pause, Lucius continues, "There are some people I think you ought to meet, perhaps I could help you make some… proper sort of connections"
His mother chooses this moment to jump in, before Hermione can protest "Yes, all these politics! It's about who you know and don't know. The Winter Gala has always played an important role in these sort of things, wouldn't you agree, Draco?"
"The Gala has always been an important society event." He answers diplomatically. The truth was, The Winter Gala was a point for networking among the high society. A place for exchange of information and rumors, an ideal background for political movement. His father had pulled strings at the Ministry for years, these sort of gatherings were where he found his puppets.
These functions were glittering points of socialization among prominent society members- the shady dealings were a natural consequence. His mother waves her hand in dismissal before turning her full attention on Hermione.
"You simply must come this year darling, and your friends too! Miss Weasley and Mr. Potter yes? This year, Andromeda will be here as well."
"Andromeda never was one for parties." His father muses.
"No dear, but she has promised me! Besides, I think it's high time for some changes." She tilts her head, waiting for Hermione's response.
Pawn E7 to E5. Your move, Granger.
"It sounds lovely, does the family often host such gatherings?" She inquired, looking genuinely curious.
"It's a Malfoy tradition," Lucius explains, pride lingering in his tone. "Tradition is everything. For example, almost every Malfoy since Nicholas the First has been married on these very grounds in the garden?"
Narcissa takes a dainty sip of wine and adds on, "The gardens are quite lovely, Hermione. I'll have to show you, truly divine background for any wedding" Draco's heart flips in his chest.
White Pawn G2 to G4
The beat of silence is agonizing in Draco's head, seemingly stretching on for an eternity before she replies, "I'm sure any girl would be ecstatic. It would certainly be an honor."
He finds himself quite speechless, unable to do anything other than stare at Granger as she picks at her plate.
A golden box falls.
Look at me, Granger.
Across the table, he catches his mother and father exchanging a pleased glance.
Black Queen to H4. Checkmate.
To anyone who had read, reviewed, commented or liked this fic- Thank you so so much! I appreciate all of you, your kind words mean the world to me. Constructive criticism is appreciated and helps me become a better writer so thank you to everyone. The chess maneuver mentioned is known as the Fool's mate in case you were wondering. II want to remind everyone that is a slow burn, but I promise- we're getting to the good stuff soon. Until then, enjoy the pining. Next update: Feb 20th See you then! Pinterest board for the story and my tumblr is on lonelywriter.