9

Communication

Draco came to with Granger hovering, mouth pressed against his as she quite literally breathed life into him.

He turned his head and coughed up what would have been a frightening amount of water, but it was only air. He collapsed back on the ground, gasping, wet and bedraggled, and completely confused. In pain everywhere, Draco found himself unable to distinguish which part of him hurt the most. There was an unfamiliar ache in his chest that almost burned. He looked around, puzzled by the fact that he was lying outside the Department of Mysteries.

Then realisation.

And Granger.

She was just as dishevelled; her wet hair stuck to her face and neck, clothes clinging to her shivering body. But none of that seemed to matter to her. He could hear voices, distant but close by, but Granger was staring at him with the sort of absolute focus he saw when she was working through a problem. The only difference were the tears, the signs of panic, and utter relief that she wasn't bothering to hide. Huh?

Over her, Patil appeared in his periphery.

"Thanks for not drowning, you absolute wanker." While Patil's voice sounded altered, as if she were underwater, he didn't miss the edge that made him realise he might have been closer to dying than he cared to consider. She turned to Granger and rested a hand on her shoulder. Her voice was softer, gentler as she said, "The Healers are here."

"Thank you, Padma." Granger accepted the small gesture. Her voice also sounded funny to him. Muffled. Draco rubbed his head and tried to sit up, ready to decline any and all help—thank you very much—but her hand on his shoulder stopped him and… fuck.

Right.

The pain. Nausea from the small movement made him attempt to inhale, but he found himself unable to complete the action without feeling like he couldn't catch his breath.

"Let them help you." And she gave him a meaningful look. "Let me help you."

Because he was too discombobulated to argue, the Healers converged on him and Granger left them to it. For over half an hour, they worked in a flurry of motions, speaking to each other in rapid-fire Healer lingo that left him dizzy but mainly aggravated. Still, Draco answered their questions, gave his name, the date, his Hogwarts house, and his birthday.

He allowed them to wave their wands for diagnostic charms, listened as they told him about his injuries: a severe concussion from the ridiculous amount of times he'd hit his head today, bruised ribs from Granger's enthusiastic resuscitation efforts, a magical facial burn that went from the side of his forehead and ran just below his ear, and a ruptured eardrum from the explosion he'd taken the brunt of. Made sense of his hearing issues.

And while they healed him, they still suggested he take a few days off to recover. No reading. No work. Minimise stress, which essentially meant he shouldn't communicate with anyone because everyone stressed him out in some capacity. They gave him potions to help and eased him into a seated position, even though every cell in his body rejected the idea, despite being technically healed.

"You'll be sore for several hours, Mr. Malfoy. Please make sure you rest."

"He will!" Patil called from somewhere and he scowled in every direction, just to make sure it reached her somehow.

Draco heard Potter's laughter and did everything he could not to give in to the childish urge to sulk in favour of letting them scan his body for any hidden issues. While he couldn't see Patil from his spot on the floor (because he was fine with not standing right then), he could see Granger glare at Potter before politely clearing her throat and continuing on with what she was saying to his team of Aurors.

It was a little strange, but while the Healers worked, he noticed how she kept herself close enough for him to hear her… and now that he was sitting up, she kept herself in his line of sight, sneaking looks in his direction when she thought he wasn't paying attention.

By the time Healers were well and truly finished with him, she was talking to someone from Magical Maintenance who looked a bit scared for his life as he nodded and went to pass her instructions along to his group that stood waiting by the entrance chamber.

What the fuck was going on?

Granger went back to speaking to Potter and his three Aurors, all of whom were just as wet as the two of them, which gave him ideas about how he'd made it out of the flood water. Honestly, the last thing Draco needed was to owe Potter anything else, but his odds didn't look good.

Especially when the git just smiled at him.

Someone blocked his vision and Draco raised his head, frowning. "What do you want, Blaise?"

"Just here to welcome you back to the land of the living."

"You don't even work here."

He gave a little shrug that meant true, but… "I Floo called my wife after you ran out of my office like a Gryffindor." It sounded like every bit of the insult he intended it to be. "Which brought her here in just enough time to receive Granger's Patronus and round up the rescue crew, so I'd like to say that my contribution to your continued survival was essential." Blaise looked at both sides of his face and tsked. "I see they healed your face. How unfortunate."

But he offered his hand and Draco took it, allowing his friend to pull him to his feet. He even waited a few seconds to let go for Draco to get his bearings. Looking from side to side, around all the people milling about, he leaned forward a bit to ask Blaise a very important question. "How bad was it?"

In response, Blaise took out his wand and dried him off with a charm; the Healers hadn't bothered, more concerned with his injuries than the fact that he was still wet. In all honesty, he hadn't noticed. Maybe because of the warming charm. Blaise pocketed his wand and cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his head. "It wasn't great."

His careful response translated Blaise-speak meant not good at all.

"Potter's team had been in there all of five minutes when they came out with you and Granger, who was frantic in a sort of composed way—which is actually more worrisome than her snippy interdepartmental memos and her complicated organisation system that only you understand. The Healers weren't here yet, and she wouldn't let anyone else touch you. Not even Padma, who knows how to revive someone. She vanished the water from your lungs and you still weren't breathing so she—" He made a complicated gesture. "She saved you."

Ah, so he didn't owe Potter another life debt. Just Granger.

Honestly, he didn't know which one was worse.

Blaise patted his shoulder in fake sympathy and left him in favour of Patil, who was talking to his Keepers, all of whom were sneaking looks in Draco's direction. Blaise gave his wife a fond look that she returned and continued on to the lift.

Rather than be stared at, Draco approached the team preparing to enter his… wait.

His department wasn't that flooded anymore, which meant the runestone had been sorted.

Draco cast a look over at Granger, who was now standing with Patil and his Keepers, giving them instructions with short, precise hand gestures. Her face was stern and left little room for argument. Phillips had a Quick-Quotes Quill going next to her, afraid that she was going to miss something. Dumont looked completely fascinated by Granger's presence, but she paid him no attention. And the others just stared at her, their heads nodding like they knew exactly what was going on, when they clearly had no idea.

So, normal then.

When White interrupted her—likely with a question that either challenged her authority or her—she gave him such a withering look that it made Draco genuinely smile for the first time all day.

Normally, he would have had strong opinions about anyone handling his department's business, but honestly, it was Granger and that was to be expected. In the silence of his own mind, he could admit that he trusted her, he also knew she wouldn't give any order that would hurt him, his position, or his department.

Besides, he didn't need the inevitable headache that came with talking to his Keepers.

No stress or whatever the Healers had said.

Next to him, the still-useless Wakefield cleared his throat, looking visibly nervous about… well, everything. He was sweating and gripping his wand like a security blanket. "Senior Undersecretary Granger has already given them explicit instructions to clear and upgrade all the drains and they have one team in there right now doing just that. I'm here to gather the runestone from the Void Room. That's all."

Draco honestly had no objections to that so he just nodded. "Okay."

Yet the wizard went on, overexplaining. "She wants them to completely dry out the entire department, update the paint, and redo the floors that are likely damaged…" Good idea. "She also asked that they, um, replace anything that has been destroyed, including all the shelves in the Artefact Room." Also a good idea.

The Magical Maintenance wizard next to Wakefield looked so jumpy he wondered what else Granger had said to him. Whatever it was, Draco would have paid good money to witness it. Because he was every bit the wanker people accused him of being.

"We're headed in now and…" The wizard next to Wakefield looked everywhere before he said in a low voice, "Magical Maintenance apologies that we did not get the order to check the drains completed in a timely fashion." He leaned in a little closer, which automatically made Draco take a step back because the bloke was in his space. "Please don't tell my boss."

It was so bizarre that Draco had no response. He just blinked and gave him a curt nod before allowing the wizard to do his job. With his arms folded, he watched as the team set bubble head charms and entered the wall of water that didn't quite reach the top of the large doorway. The fact that there was no sound coming from his department except the sloshing of water was like music to his ears.

"You're supposed to be resting," Granger said from behind in an all too familiar tone—really quite bossy. He looked over his shoulder, noting that she was now completely dry, her hair fluffy from the charm and as indomitable as she was. The look she gave him matched her voice, and when he turned to face her, she folded her arms, mirroring him.

"I'd like to oversee the clean-up process, thank you," Draco answered haughtily.

"Padma and your Keepers will coordinate the task." Granger didn't give him any room to argue. Which was just like her.

But it wasn't like him to not challenge her. "I'm of the firm belief that in order to get things done correctly, I have to do them myself."

Granger gave him a rather diplomatic nod. "I'm of the same school of thought, as well. However, I've given instructions for them to plan and execute the clean-up process once they obtain clearance to re-enter the department. Should anyone—" She cut her eyes over to the group that were huddled together talking. "Should anyone go against any of my directions, they'll have to answer to you… and me."

Draco was man enough to know which threat was bigger.

But that was something he'd always liked about her. Even before… whatever they had.

"Now that that's settled, I have instructed them to leave your office until your return. I have also arranged for everyone to sign non-disclosure agreements where they agree not to discuss the Department of Mysteries operations to anyone who was not present here today. Lastly, I have instructed your Keepers to inform their teams that they should return to work on Monday. Oh, and I've coordinated lunch for your department all next week."

For morale.

"Oh, and one last thing. The Artefacts Team is awake. They don't remember much, but—"

"It seems like you've handled everything."

And in a short amount of time.

Frankly, his head was swimming with all the information that she'd dumped on him.

He was still grappling with what had happened.

"Almost." Granger made a useless attempt at patting down her hair. "There is the matter of your wand that hasn't been recovered, but Harry said he'd bring it to your flat when they find it." He honestly hadn't thought about it. "There's one more matter I need to discuss, but I'm so far behind schedule that I need to get to my office." She peered up at him. "Walk with me?"

It was a question and not an order.

She was done giving them.

Draco felt unusually subdued after the fucking terrible morning he'd had, so for once in his damn life outside of an emergency situation, he did something she asked without argument. Draco put on his shoes and jacket that were still where he'd left them before following Granger to the lift.

"What happened?" he asked once the lift started moving.

Granger looked supremely uncomfortable "Um… We were swept up in the current. I—I lost you immediately, but it didn't take me too long to find you again. And by the time I did, you were unconscious and your bubble-head charm had popped. But that was about the same time Harry's team found us."

"The runestone?"

"Destroyed. Harry found it right where I dropped it after we got you out. He threw it in the Void Room and said the storm stopped instantly. My jar broke." She sounded sort of sad about it in the fond, nostalgic way that people often sound when they reminisce about pleasant childhood memories.

Then he remembered that she'd actually kept a person in that jar and, well, it didn't sound so innocent anymore.

A bit scary, actually, but in a way that made him smother his smile behind a cough.

"So, in the end, Potter got to be the hero." Draco rolled his eyes. "Why didn't you—"

The rest of his question died as lift changed directions. Granger grabbed the railing in front of her while he grabbed the one above his head. The lift changed directions again, bringing her close enough for his hand to instantly curl around her, steadying her. She looked at him with a softer expression. "To answer your half-asked question, you were drowning, and I couldn't let that happen, so I made a choice between you and the runestone."

Before he could say anything in response, the doors opened on Level One and Granger filed out first. They made their way to her office, but not without passing her fill-in assistant, who stood up when she saw them. "Senior Undersecretary Granger, you're very late for your meeting with—"

"Reschedule everything, please, as I will be leaving early via my private Floo," she told the witch. "Please send my apologies."

He wasn't sure who was more shocked: him or her assistant.

Granger hadn't taken a sick day, holiday, or even so much as left her office early for any given reason in years. No emergencies, sudden illnesses, or in-need-of-a-break excuse.

Nothing.

"What—what excuse should I give?" Her assistant was apparently still trying—and failing—to recover from her shock.

Granger looked at her for several seconds with a pinched expression. Her eyes narrowed, then cut from her face to her desk where she was preparing to put documents for the Department of International Magic into the wrong place.

"I want to congratulate you for making it through your first week." Her voice was pleasant in a chilly sort of way that made her assistant stand at attention. "This isn't an easy position to have, no matter if it's temporary. I thank you for being adaptable. That being said, when you finish rescheduling all of my meetings, please report to Olivia so that she can assist you with learning my filing system and other duties I expect you to fulfil while Amelia is on leave. Please also have my filing corrected by the time you leave today. Olivia will help."

She nodded, her wide eyes darting over to Draco, who was observing her with one slightly raised eyebrow and a very bored expression—the exact same one she'd given him when he'd first met her. Her smile was tight when she said, "I will, thank you, Senior Undersecretary Granger."

"Have a nice weekend."

Granger continued on to her office.

Concussed or not, Draco couldn't help himself. "I have an appointment." He smirked then followed behind Granger at enough of a leisurely pace that by the time he arrived at her door, she was actually sitting on her tidy desk. The chairs that visitors usually sat in were pushed to either side. More than curious about the strange sort of informality she was displaying, Draco stepped into her office.

With a wave of her hand, she shut the door behind him.

Draco's slightly muddled mind wrenched over into a new gear and started churning slowly. After their conversation in the lift, he had no more questions about what happened, about the runestone or anything. Granger had wrapped everything else up in a nice bow and there was no reason for him to be there. So, why was he? "As I recall, our conversation is over. I have no further questions."

Granger's hands gripped the end of the desk. "I do have one thing I need to discuss with you. If you would just take a seat."

Stubbornly, he didn't move.

And with a low noise that sounded every bit as irritated as she looked, Granger hopped off the desk and approached him carefully, as if she were unsure of his next move. Which should have been obvious to someone as bright as Granger—he was going to leave. It was the only viable option for someone who had nothing else to talk about. She stopped when they were toe to toe, lifting her eyes to meet his.

He really was going to do it.

He could leave. Right then.

He would.

"I'm going home." She paused, still holding his gaze. "I'd like you to come with me."

Granger had never been shy in her actions. She knew what she wanted, how she wanted it done, and was very detailed in her approach to accomplishing each of her goals. And while Draco always admired her directness, he found himself hating the way she could easily keep herself detached, locked away, and out of reach. Because, obviously, he couldn't anymore and that was such a sore spot for him.

"No." Draco was no longer sure if he was answering her or his own question.

"I expected that." Granger lowered her head for a moment as she seemed to ready herself for a battle Draco didn't feel like fighting. Not today, when his body had bruises he couldn't see. "Just…." She took a hard breath. "Don't say anything until I finish. You've got a nasty habit of running off before I have a chance to speak."

"What could you possibly have to say?"

"The same thing I've been trying to tell you for six days now." She sounded weary in all the ways he felt, but there was also determination in her voice. And in her movements. For the briefest of moments, he felt her fingertips against his—soft, tentative, and everything Granger wasn't around everyone else. Only him, now that he thought about it. "Let me clear up this miscommunication between us by saying what I should have said that night."

"And what's that?"

She looked him right in the eyes. "I love you, too." And once it was out, she smiled a bit. "You're maddening and a gigantic prat, but I must be a glutton for punishment because I do. Even before today. For months, actually."

As relieved as he felt, he just stared at her like she'd gone mad, while simultaneously processing the words he hadn't expected. Granger made her move. She laced their fingers together, holding them up, testing the action, before deciding that it worked—that she liked it. She loved him. She looked content, pleased with her decision, delighted with just holding his hand in her office when they'd done far, far more.

And because Draco was… himself, he tried not to look too happy when he asked, "Is that all?"

Granger glared at him. "You're really going to make me give a speech, aren't you?" This time, he did smile, and she rolled her eyes, huffing her extreme annoyance with him. "I take it all back."

"Too late," Draco told her smugly.

She narrowed her eyes at him and groaned. "Fine, here's your speech. You're a guarded bastard, who'll say the sky is purple because you're just too stubborn to admit it's blue. You'll throw away something that works in order to protect yourself rather than talk it out, which infuriates me to no end." Her demeanour changed as she began to articulate herself more genuinely. "But I know I'm not easy, and neither are you. We're both going to make mistakes. I'm going to say the wrong things, you're going to be a complete bastard, but I knew that right from the beginning. I knew that and I still lo—"

"This is a horrible speech." But he hadn't stopped smirking.

Granger squeezed his hand, and she wasn't gentle about it. Draco suppressed his cringe while meeting her eyes in a challenge.

Her smile widened. "I don't shag people I don't like. Of course, it didn't start off like that, because I very much did not like you, but I fell in love with your mind before I fell in love with your face, so this is where I am. Like I said before, I won't do this again with someone who can't have a direct conversation about their feelings. It's been more than sex to me for a while now, but the only reason I kept this to myself was because I didn't want to force the issue and I've never been able to figure you out. Until Saturday, I had no idea that it was more than a consistent shag to you."

If she could be honest, so could he. "Well, it is."

"I gathered from the way you shouted it at me earlier."

He cringed. "Yes, well, there's something else you should know."

"What's that?"

Draco's free hand rested on the small of her back as he leaned forward just a bit, keeping his voice low and honest, more direct than he'd ever been before. "I want you. No calendar. No scheduled time. No rules."

"Oh?" Her face softened into a smile. "Perhaps, I can agree to that."

"Also, my favourite colour is blue…" he trailed off petulantly.

Which made her laugh until she saw that he was very serious. Not that his glares did anything to her, but she rolled her eyes yet again. "You're ridiculous if you think I didn't know that already. I've been waiting ages for you to correct me."

"You mean you—" On purpose?

"Draco," she said testily. "We can talk later because, like I said before, this has been the longest morning, and I'm going home." She fixed him with one of her candid expressions she'd often greeted him with when he stepped out of the Floo on Saturday nights. "And I'd like you to come with me."

That time, Draco agreed with a deep, demanding kiss.

What he expected to happen next was not what actually happened.

They fell asleep.

Or he did. He wasn't exactly sure.

One minute, they were snogging and grappling for each other's clothes. And the next, he was waking up with a still-sore body and a cramp in his empty stomach at almost eight in the evening. Draco got an odd kick from that, knowing he'd wasted an entire afternoon away doing nothing. That was so bizarrely unlike him—unlike them both—but it was a reward for the fact that his department was no longer under attack from an angry runestone.

Granger was already awake if the cold bed and the spare clothes and towel on the nightstand were indicative of anything. Had she even fallen asleep? Not likely, knowing her. And before he could roll his eyes (fondly), Draco spotted his wand next to his clothes. Not broken. He picked it up out of habit before he put it back down. He went into the bathroom only to find Granger already relaxing in the deep tub, eyes shut with her head resting on a bath pillow. The bubbles were up to her neck; her hair piled in a bun on the top of her head. The soft strains of the small wireless played soothing music.

Draco shut the door behind him to avoid letting the warmth out of the room and her eyes opened.

Her smirk was wicked. "Join me."

"I thought you would have had enough water for the day." Possibly for a lifetime.

"At least this is warm. Not to mention, I'm naked and there are a few drops of oil that'll be just perfect for—"

He joined her in absolutely no time, settling in at the opposite end of the tub. It was obviously large enough for the two of them to be comfortable at their ends, but Granger cared little about space, moving to the point where they were sitting face to face like a couple of children, blowing froth at each other while sneaking little touches of water soaked skin.

Then bolder touches.

The water was hot, but not too hot—kept warm and inside the tub by charms.

She felt good.

And so did he.

"You look well rested. How are you feeling?" She didn't wait for an answer before she rested her head against his shoulder, raising gooseflesh on impact.

"Better." Draco actually couldn't remember being quite so relaxed in recent history. This was new. Different. He'd probably had her in every part of her house, except here. He felt her lips touch behind his ear. Then again.

"We've got a bit of time before dinner's ready," she whispered before leaning back to smile at him. "I made lasagna."

Draco wrapped both arms around her warm body, adjusting so she could sit more comfortably on him. He kissed her chin and reminded her of something important. "You're a terrible cook."

She huffed. "Okay, it's frozen. Bought it from Tesco."

"Sounds about right."

Granger chuckled and when she tangled her fingers through his hair, he closed his eyes for a moment, letting her angle his mouth to where she wanted him. But before she could lower her mouth to his, Draco surged up the small distance and kissed her deeply, letting them quickly escalate from sensual to hungry, relishing in the fact that he no longer had to hold back. He loved the soft noises and breaths coming from her. Loved the way she whispered his name between kisses, ghosting her lips against his, her eyes warm and heavy.

Loved… her.

And he told her.

Her eyes were fixed on him when she gasped, melting against him, breasts pressed firmly against his chest. Her hand moved between them as she brought him to life under the water. Draco closed his eyes, relishing in the feel of her touch. "You know…" She moved her hand and sat back just a bit. Draco groaned in pain. "I took your name out of my calendar."

"Could give less than a fuck about that right now." His fingers trailed over her skin beneath the surface, searching out the sensitive spots he knew. She groaned into his kiss, pulling the passion out of her. Draco was nothing if not direct, reaching, slipping fingers between her legs as she straddled him.

She was open for him.

Granger moved his hand, then reached over his shoulder for a cake of soap that floated above the edge of the tub. She wet it and began to rub the bar all over his body, over his shoulders, his chest. It felt like a game. One that he very much wanted to join, but when he tried, she slapped his hand away. "No strenuous activity, remember?"

"Torture is pretty strenuous, and that's what you're doing."

"You're so dramatic. Stop whinging." She fussed as raised up a bit, his hands automatically moving to her hips as they both looked down at the soapy water as if they could see through the bubbles. Granger's wandering hand found him again, gripping gently, as she adjusted and lowered herself. They both groaned together. He savoured the tightness, the heat of her body as she enveloped him.

"Does this feel like torture?" she whispered breathlessly, bracing one hand on the edge of the tub. And then…

And then they lost it.

Granger, who had a working knowledge of most everything, couldn't figure out the logistics of bathtub sex. First mistake? Too much oil. Second? Her foot slipped, and she lost her balance a bit, which made her sink in too deep, but not in a good way, because the angle was now all wrong. Draco winced. "Do try not to snap my cock off."

"A little help, then!" She poked him in the chest. "Move your leg."

"We're in a goddamn bathtub, there's not much more I can do here." Then she started wiggling more, sloshing bubbly water around as she tried to find the right spot, the correct angle they'd had before.

Draco started laughing, and she glared at him, before trying again. And failing. Again. "In theory, this should be extremely sexy. In practice, it feels a bit like a mistake. Change of scenery?"

Which would have been an excellent idea had they not smelled… burning.

In the most un-Granger-like move he'd ever seen, she shrieked, summoned her robe, and rushed out, leaving him alone to take care of the damage. Or maybe salvage it. He wasn't sure. Either way, he wasn't about to rush after her. Draco mourned the loss of his erection and sank under the water for a moment before he resurfaced, ran a hand over his wet hair and got out.

With a towel around his waist, Draco found Granger's sharp glare cutting from the box, where the directions were spelled out, back to the oven top, where the charred results of her dinner plans sat. He stood behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "I don't know how, but I set it too high." She tossed the box on the counter and folded her arms across her chest. "It looks like tonight's dinner plans are a bust."

Draco peered over her head at the burned remains of a dinner he was already sceptical about eating. "There's always takeaway."

"True," she said. "How about Thai?"

Actually, Draco wasn't particularly hungry for food, and he told her that by dipping his head just enough to run a trail of kisses down her neck. "How about this?"

She turned around with a wicked grin. "This is good."

Then he distracted Granger from her cooking mistake by pulling her into the bedroom, kicking the door shut, and finishing what they'd started in the tub.

Later on, after they got around to Thai and once Granger had fallen asleep after a second round, Draco laid next to her with the realisation that that perhaps mistakes weren't so bad after all.

They were inevitable and unavoidable. Humbling. Sometimes painful proof of humanity, and he would continue to make them as long as he was alive. Draco's mistake had guided him in the right direction by letting him experience the consequences of the wrong way. All of his mistakes—and there had been many in his life—made him who he was and had led him, however unwilling, to where he was right now.

So, perhaps he could let go of his hatred of making mistakes because some of his had turned out to be worth the trouble.

Some perhaps even worth repeating.

But, as he now knew, one of them hadn't been a mistake at all.

Disclaimers apply

A/N: And there you have it. Again, much thanks to my betas floorcoaster and dreamsofdramione. And you for reading it. This was my first bit of Dramione in ages, written before The Art of Seating Etiquette and Measure of a Man, so you can safely blame this fic for them both. Thanks again!