Chapter 13 - Epilogue
Platform 9 3/4 was teeming with parents and children alike, each of them darting towards the train with varying shrieks of joy. Somewhere in the mix, Hermione knew Albus was parting with Harry, but she and Draco had agreed to meet up with Cho and Harry at the Leaky later.
Draco needed their last moments with Archer before he left for Hogwarts without having even more eyes on them with Harry Potter in their midst.
As it was, Archer had insisted he could pack his own trunk, but, as Hermione had expected, he'd packed far more than he'd need, so the cart was piled high with school books that she'd charm away before he boarded the train. He'd nearly forgotten his cauldron at home, and so Hermione had carefully balanced it on top. The whole spectacle was ridiculous, but it still made her smile.
Their little boy, off to Hogwarts.
As it was, he'd already changed into his uniform despite Hermione's reassurance that there'd be plenty of time to on the train. Her heart squeezed when she stared down at the little blank spot that would soon be filled with his house crest.
Draco knelt before him, his face split between pride and sorrow. Archer had only just begun to know Draco for who he really was, and now he was set to go to Hogwarts.
Hermione's heart twinged in sympathy for him.
"You be good, okay?" Draco started, his voice pinched despite the smile he affixed to his face. "And owl us when you get your house, yeah?"
Archer smiled up at Draco. "I promise, Dad."
It hadn't taken long for Archer to take to Draco—not when he proved to be the same father he'd always been. There were days when he shied away from Draco, but it had gotten better over time. Archer loved larger than himself—a trait he'd inherited from Draco, no less—so it hadn't surprised her at all, though she still caught Draco warring with awe whenever Archer hugged him openly.
Elara, of course, had never shown any indication that she felt otherwise towards Draco.
Hermione knelt beside Draco, opening her arms wide for Archer. Without preamble, the little wizard thrust himself into her hold. "You'll tell Uncle Neville that he needs to get better about returning our owls?"
"I'll tell him, Mum. Should I wait until before or after Herbology? Or maybe during. His cheeks always turn a funny purple colour when he's embarrassed." Archer pulled away, sharing a cheeky smile with Draco.
"You'll do no such thing." Draco chuckled, ruffling his son's hair. "Wait until after class, and tell him that he's expected to visit with the family over the winter hols. He can't keep the girls all to himself in the castle. They've got to see their godmother at some point."
Archer mumbled his agreement, turning to Hermione. "I'll be home for the Christmas hols." His eyes flickered to the ground. "Will you write?"
Throat choked with emotional, she nodded, fighting the tears that pricked at her eyes. "Of course. Every day if you wouldn't get tired of me." Archer stuck his tongue out at her, and Hermione pulled him into a hug. "Once a week. I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too, Mum," Archer said, squeezing her. Behind him, the train whistled, and he pulled away, eyes wide. "I have to go!"
Draco stifled his laughter, and they all said their goodbyes, Archer watching as Hermione repacked his suitcase. A final round of hugs punctuated their goodbye, and then he was off.
His little figure dragged his trunk through the train before he found Albus' carriage. Without waiting to stow the trunk overhead, he lunged for the window, throwing it open and thrusting his upper body out the window with a frantic wave as the train began to move. "Bye, Mum! Bye, Dad!"
Draco pulled her into him, and they both raised their hands, waving in return. Even if she wanted to shout, Hermione wouldn't have been able to get a sound out around the knot in her throat.
Tucked into Draco's side, Hermione watched the train as it pulled away from the station, Archer's little figure growing smaller and smaller even as his waving grew frantic.
"Granger, we've got to go. Harry's waiting for us," Draco urged, pressing a kiss to her temple. Elara nuzzled into her legs, offering sympathy in an effort to hide her own tears.
"Just a minute more," Hermione whispered, carefully wiping away tears.
It felt like an ending as much as a beginning, watching her son board the train and disappear into a new adventure that she was no stranger to. Perhaps it was all the changes over the last weeks—the children's disappearance, Draco's revelation, sending Archer away to Hogwarts to grow into his magic—but a large part of Hermione felt as though it had climbed onto the Hogwarts Express with Archer and left her behind.
"He'll be okay, love," Draco murmerred, his grasp tightening around her waist. "He'll owl as soon as he gets to his common room tonight; you know how responsible he is. Gets it from you." He nudged her with his hip.
"Do you think it'll get easier?" Herminoe asked, carefully wiping away the tear that trailed down her cheek once they walked towards the platform exit.
Draco frowned, sweeping Elara into his arms as they walked. "I don't expect so, no. But we raised him well. He'll be great at Hogwarts."
"I know." Hermione worried the hem of her shirt, glancing back in hopes that she might catch one more final plume of smoke from the long-departed train. "I just worry."
Squeezing her again, Draco said, "It'll be all right. We have an in with Neville—if Archer gets out of hand, I'm sure you'll get an owl about it."
"Oh, it's not Archer I'm worried about," Hermione laughed, nudging his hip with hers. "It's Albus' influence on Archer. You know how he worships Harry. Albus is about as close to Harry as Archer can get without the real deal."
Draco groaned. "Don't even remind me—my own son, forsaking me for the bloody Boy Who Lived."
"Oh please, you know how much he admires you," Hermione tutted.
Two years later
Doors clanged close behind Draco. The room he'd been escorted to was drafty and cold, the windowless walls adding to the chilly ambiance. Even without the dementors, he didn't envy anyone imprisoned there.
He kept his thoughts away from his father through sheer will alone.
With far more grace than he felt with his nerves on end, he settled into one of the old metal chairs flanking either side of the singular table in the middle of the room, depositing a package at his side. On the opposite side of the small room, the wall glimmered, revealing the outline of a door. A guard and shackled inmate emerged just moments later.
"Mister Malfoy." The guard dipped his head, casual but guarded. "Should I—" He gestured towards the cuffs of magic on Delphini's wrists.
"Please do. I trust that the warding will be sufficient to manage her magic. I won't be long," Draco said, adjusting his tie.
It was the same song and dance as usual. The guard released the magic binding her and escorted Delphini to the chair. "You've got fifteen minutes, Malfoy. Make it quick."
He ducked his head. "Thank you."
They allowed the guard to depart and the door to disappear before either of them spoke.
"It's good to see you," Delphini said. Worn Azkaban robes hung from her figure and clashed horribly with her pale skin, and her curly hair appeared clean but unbrushed, tangled together at the ends. She did, however, look less gaunt than she had outside Lestrange Manor. "I'm sorry I didn't get all dressed up for you."
Her eyes shined when she spoke. "Thank you for seeing me, Draco."
Draco nodded, wrapping his knuckles on the tabletop as he studied her. "It's been long enough that I thought you might like a visitor, and I've appreciated our correspondence over the last few months. As I'm sure you're aware, your help has been invaluable with the… healing process. I tried to convince Hermione, but—"
"That's kind of you but unnecessary," Delphini answered, an absent smile on her face as she watched him. "Your mother visits frequently, which staves off some of the loneliness."
Draco knew that. Narcissa had apologized time and again for her visits to the witch that had kidnapped Elara and Archer, but some small part of him understood-Delphini was the only connection Narcissa had to a sister who she had loved and whose loss she mourned—the loss of the woman before Voldemort had manipulated her deepest desires. Before she'd become mad. He didn't begrudge Narcissa the connection. "I'm glad you haven't been entirely alone. And the mind healer?"
It was one of the few concessions Hermione had fought to get the witch upon her incarceration. Time travel was difficult, and to see all that Delphini had... Hermione hadn't been able to imagine it had been easy. After days of discussing the situation with his wife, Draco had personally interceded on the Ministry's search for a therapist and recommended the one he shared with Hermione.
After all, Delphini had admitted to her own precarious hold on sanity when they had rescued the children, and in whatever twist of fate, it had brought him a new chance with Hermione and the children—without hiding.
He figured he owed her a modicum of understanding.
Delphini smiled, lighting up for the first time since Draco entered the room. "Doctor Brenner is a wonderful friend." She appeared to choose her words carefully, fingers tapping on her knees. "He's helped me work through many of the delusions that I struggled to deal with initially—the circumstances which drove me to visit the past in the first place. He's confident that I can be rehabilitated and will petition for my release upon the end of my treatment."
Draco nodded. Kingsley had told him as much, but he was glad that the information had been relayed to Delphini. "And you're… doing well?"
The smile that Delphini cracked didn't quite reach her eyes. "As well as can be expected. Doctor Brenner doesn't require medication, although it's an option if I'd like to take it. We've discussed my motivations and how they landed me here, which was illuminating."
"He pulls no punches, that's for sure," Draco commiserated. After a beat, he cleared his throat. "Look, I'm glad that you're getting the help you need. And, for what it's worth, I'm glad it all worked out the way it did in the long run."
Delphini laughed, the sound so similar to her mother's that the hair on his arms stood at attention. "It's strange, isn't it? To be grateful for the cage in which you find yourself?"
"It is," he agreed. Without that cage, he wouldn't have found Granger. "But I came here for a reason—other than to see how you were doing."
"I assumed as much," Delphini answered, eyeing the wrapped parcel that he'd placed between them. "May I?"
Dipping his head, Draco slid the package across the table.
"I understand that it's a bit unconventional, given everything going on, but I thought you might like a copy." Draco shifted in his seat, resisting the urge to adjust his tie again. Suddenly, the air in the room was oppressive, and a cold sweat broke out, chilling his skin. "And it's probably a bit presumptuous of me that you would even want a copy, and it took a lot of convincing to even get the guards to allow me to give it to you, but—"
"Of course I want a copy," she tsked, a genuine smile softening her features. From within the package, Delphini pulled a leather-bound book and smoothed her hand over the cover.
The gold leaf title glittered under the illumination of the bare bulb overhead, and he sucked in a deep breath. It punched him in the gut every time he saw it.
How to Disappear: A Former Death Eater's Confessional by Draco Malfoy. Foreword and cover art by Hermione Granger.
He'd been resistant at first. Writing the story of their ordeal felt exploitive, like he was further subjecting his family to public scrutiny that they hadn't signed up for, but what began as an assignment for their therapy courses soon turned into an outlet he hadn't known he'd needed.
It had been Hermione's idea, a way to sift through the complex series of emotions he was left with in the aftermath of the children's rescue: grief, guilt, sadness, happiness, all of it a volatile cocktail that had left him paralysed of motivation. Sure, he'd taken steps to assume the mantle of the family business, but the book had been different.
It was his. Completely his. Not his father's before him, not Voldemort's. It was his story to tell, and it had been freeing in a way nothing else had been.
Delphini looked up at him, hand splayed on the cover. "And it's all in there?"
"All of it. My Hogwarts years, the war, our escape. We used the letters that you sent and the information you gave my mother in the interviews to write the story." Draco shifted, uncomfortable at the tears that shone in her gaze. "I hope I did it justice."
"I'm sure you did. There's no one else I would rather tell my story," she said, cracking the cover to flip through the first two pages.
Draco shrugged, rubbing at the scruff of his beard. "Doctor Brenner said it was helpful—encouraged it, actually. He recommended you might want a copy for your own healing. Besides, Kingsley thinks it will be useful when we petition for your release in the new year."
Several beats passed before Delphini froze, her gaze darting up to him. "My release?" she whispered.
"My mother and I petitioned for it earlier this month. She'll act as your representative in front of the Ministry. If everything goes well—and it should with Doctor Brenner's testimony that you're not a danger to society—it's very likely you'll be granted release by this time next year," Draco said, fighting the urge to stand up and pace. "It's conditional, of course. You'll be released into Narcissa's custody first for a period of house arrest, and afterwards you will be monitored by the Ministry."
Her hands shook as she closed the cover of the book. "But I'll be free."
Draco finally offered her a smile. "You'll be free. You can start over—and you'll have family." Hermione had been reluctant, hesitant to let the woman into their unit after she'd put them through such a traumatic week, but in the process of writing the foreword, she'd eventually relented, confessing the sorrow she felt for the other woman. Like their relationship, she'd decided to go forward with a succinct reply: they'd work it out. Like they always did.
Draco had written Kingsley the next day.
Delphini's eyes fluttered shut, tears leaking from their corners. "Thank you," she whispered, then cleared her throat. "I won't forget it. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."
Behind her, the door shimmered and opened, the same guard that had escorted Delphini into the room clearing his throat. "Time's up, Malfoy. Miss Riddle, you're to return to your cell."
She nodded obediently, splaying her hands on the table as the guard approached and charmed the handcuffs back onto her wrists, but her gaze never left Draco's. "You'll be in touch?"
"Look for my correspondence. Brenner will be here tomorrow to discuss the particulars. In the meantime, take care of yourself," Draco said, backing towards the entry door. Just as the witch was about to leave the room, he cleared his throat. "Delphini?"
Pausing, she cast her gaze back over her shoulder and clutched the book to her chest. "Yes?"
"Welcome to the family."
fin
So we've reached the end! Because I just finished my own edits on this today and because I'm impatient af, I wanted to go ahead and post it a couple days early. As such, it's not been alpha read or beta read; any mistakes are my own. That said, I wanted to thank my stellar alpha/beta team for their help throughout the rest of this fic: LadyKenz347 and niffizzle for alpha work at various points, In Dreams for betaing, farmulousa for brit-picking, and mcal for cheering on in the initial chapters (and in the comments—I see you and appreciate you!) I'm so glad to have help from such lovely people, and I've enjoyed writing this story. It's not perfect, but I'm really proud of it. Further, thank you all so much for sticking around and reading this little tale when I was super flaky with updates, when a character—cough, Delphini, cough—that is widely disliked was introduced and then attempted to give her a redemption arc, and when things seemed a little dicey. I'm so grateful for all your lovely words, your constructive criticism, and just being able to share a fandom space with you guys. It means the world to me! Until next time!