"Draco, darling, what are you wearing?" His mother asked him impatiently, tapping her foot as she stood next to the empty dining table. Draco looked down at his flying gear, confused by her question. She was dressed in silk robes with her blonde hair pinned up, a look she usually reserved for society lunches, which put him on edge. When he didn't respond, Narcissa sighed. "Well, aren't you coming?"
"What?" Draco asked, his voice hoarse from sleep. He'd gone to bed after telling his mother about the fight with Theo and slept for nearly 18 hours. Draco planned to grab a quick breakfast with his mother at Malfoy Manor before flying for a good chunk of the morning. That was his usual ritual for the morning before an event, that way he didn't feel like he'd wasted the entire day. Though the ball he'd been planning for months didn't seem to have that same looming effect as other social obligations did.
"We discussed this yesterday, don't you remember?" Draco did not, but kept his mouth shut. "You promised you would take me out for breakfast at the new cafe in Diagon Alley as a treat before tonight. Come now, let's get a spot of breakfast." Draco sighed, but nodded. After a quick trip home, he reappeared in black robes to escort his mother to Narcissa to Diagon Alley. Apperating to the alley, he followed his mother to a cheery looking cafe and opened the bright yellow door for her.
"Narcissa, hello." He heard Hermione's voice say, igniting a jolt of nervous energy in him. Yesterday's lunch had been uncomfortable at best and he'd planned to avoid her as much as possible during the ball tonight. As he walked in, Hermione looked surprised, but quickly smiled at him from her seat at a small window table. "And Malfoy, I didn't realize you'd be joining us."
"I didn't either," he said, giving his mother a pointed look. Narcissa glanced at the menu she'd picked up off the table, pretending to be blissfully unaware of Draco's glare.
"Since we were going to talk about the ball tonight and finalize last minute details, I thought we could all chat together and give our owls a well deserved break," Narcissa explained as she took a seat across from Hermione. Draco begrudgingly sat next to the older witch, eyeing her suspiciously. Hermione took the change in stride, producing a parchment from her bag and rattling off questions, all of which Narcissa answered in great detail. He nodded along, making note of Hermione's request that he and she go to the venue early to finalize things. His mother however reassigned the task to Draco, citing the coveted preparation time witches needed prior to an event. He felt his lips twitch slightly as he watched Hermione suppress an eye roll, but soon the conversation grew dull again. Draco sighed, looking out the window they were seated next to and wishing he'd skipped breakfast; he'd be flying right now if he hadn't gone to the manor.
"Narcissa!" A familiar voice called from the door, breaking Draco out of his thoughts. Pansy Parkinson's mother, dressed head to toe in a particularly loud shade of fuschia, leered at them hungrily. "Oh and who do we have here?" His mother's close friend and a favorite source of Rita Skeeter, she walked closer and smiled pleasantly as she looked between the three of them.
"Oh, apologies, you two. I'll be right back," Narcissa said quietly, standing with urgency, as though she didn't arrange for her friend to appear. "Maybe you could talk about saving a dance for each other tonight. Hello dear, how are you?" Narcissa practically floated towards her friend, a picture of unperturbed elegance despite the interruption, before pulling her away to the counter to look at the pastries on display.
Draco groaned audibly. "Subtle, Mother," he thought as he watched her glide away.
"Have you spoken to Theo yet?" Hermione leaned across the table immediately, asking in hushed tones. Draco was thankful she had no comment on his mother's conspicuous matchmaking efforts, but still wished he'd burned the damned plant before he set foot in the manor.
"No, he won't return my owls anyway," Draco said knowingly. "He'll need time to cool off."
"I thought you hadn't seen him mad much," Hermione challenged. "How often do you two need breaks from each other?"
"I said truly angry. We've been friends forever - he has certainly been mad at me before. The last time he was mad at me he didn't speak to me for three weeks. And that was about a rather rude reaction I had to one of his poems," Draco said. He weighed the options and decided to plunge into the dangerous waters of the unknown. "I suppose he was also upset about what I said to you," he probed. Hermione didn't react, so he reluctantly continued. "About your father."
"I haven't said anything to him about that," Hermione said haughtily, looking down at the menu. Relief flooded Draco, knowing he'd have the chance to salvage the Loony situation before revealing his second betrayal. "Though, I'd appreciate having some insight into what actually happened," she added, her amber eyes now rapt on him. "Unless you'd like me to share with Theo what you said. I'm sure he'd take longer than three weeks to forgive you for whatever it is, given your reaction," Hermione finished her threat with a sickly sweet smile he'd seen his own mother wear too many times.
"You've been spending too much time with Narcissa," Draco sneered, though privately he was impressed. The Hermione Granger he knew as a girl had been adamant about rules unless she was saving Potter's arse; he could never imagine her blackmailing someone, no matter how feeble the attempt. Draco smirked, knowing exactly how to shut her down. "Yet not enough time to get a true understanding of things. You do know that the plant you gifted me sent her into a tizzy. She is fully expecting me to court you as a result." Hermione's jaw dropped, prompting Draco to do an internal victory dance at unnerving her. "I believe that is what this little breakfast ambush is about."
"Court me? Because of a hostess gift?" Hermione asked incredulously. "But you hate me," Hermione exclaimed, surprising him. Draco considered correcting her, telling her that she was the one who hated him and he didn't particularly mind spending time with her. His pride decided for him, keeping quiet after considering her own views towards him.
"Obviously," he drawled, delighting in the scowl Hermione sent his way. "But, Mother is mad for grandchildren. She'd marry me off to the first witch she could if I allowed it. In fact she's always setting me up on dates and forcing me to…." Draco trailed off, realizing his mother hadn't dragged him to any events, luncheons, or dates since the disastrous Greengrass luncheon. Since the day they found out about Hermione Nott Granger. "Huh," he muttered to himself, surprised he hadn't seen it sooner. He'd been so preoccupied with his latest experimental potion and planning for the ball, he hadn't even realized the shift in his social calendar.
"Forcing you to what?" Hermione asked softly. "Malfoy! Forcing you to what?" She asked again, louder and more insistent. Draco decided to file this discovery away for later.
"Nothing, just - she's likely to say something and I wanted you to hear it from me that I took the gift the way you intended it. Nothing more."
"Oh," Hermione said stiffly. "Well, thank you for telling me that." He watched her smooth her napkin over her lap a few times as she snuck a peek at Narcissa, still talking to her friend.
"Don't go around giving single wizards gifts like that, especially anything floral. They all have meanings," Draco added against his better judgement, unable to keep the warning in.
"Meanings? Like what?" Suddenly the curious swot was back, eager to learn something new.
"Meanings for courting. I'm sure you're familiar with red roses meaning romantic love. Suitors can express their interest with roses or other flowers," Draco explained, recalling the summer afternoon just after his third year that his parents walked him through this lesson. They knew the Yule Ball was coming up and wanted to prevent him from sending any signals that could be misconstrued and later leveraged to make an undesirable match. "For example, if a wizard wanted to impress someone like you, they'd send clematis."
"I'm honestly afraid to ask what that symbolizes," Hermione said with a low chuckle, making Draco grin.
"The beauty of ingenuity." At this, Hermione looked pleasantly surprised. "You're famous for being a know-it-all, it'd be an easy bet," Draco dismissed with an amused smirk. Hermione rolled her eyes at his bluntness. "But those being pursued can respond to advances with flowers as well. Carnations are a clear refusal of advances, whereas something like a honeysuckle is a symbol of love and acceptance of advances. Had you sent me home with a basil plant or something of that sort, we wouldn't be having this conversation. But apparently snake plants symbolize tenacity." Hermione opened her mouth to interrupt, but Draco kept talking. "I haven't the faintest where she even found the meaning as it is not a popular plant in the wizarding world. Regardless, after her discovery Mother was particularly interested in why you'd be giving me a plant that indicated perseverance. Especially with our history," Draco added after a beat. Pink patches had appeared on Hermione's cheeks as he spoke, which continued to get brighter the more he explained.
"Merlin, that is embarrassing," the witch muttered, twisting her bushy hair to one side like it was a nervous tick. "Your mother and Theo never mentioned it, nor did that bloody etiquette teacher!" Hermione had shifted from looking embarrassed to angry. "I'm so sorry if you thought I was misunderstanding us spending time together. I know it is just for the ball, obviously," Hermione huffed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his mother hug Lady Parkinson, signaling the polite end of their conversation.
"She's coming back. If she asks, tell her we discussed in detail about dancing together," Draco demanded, leaning over the table towards her so his mother couldn't hear. "Say I asked about saving me the French Waltz. She knows it is my favorite."
"I'm not lying to her," Hermione hissed back. "She'll know, she's terrifyingly good at that. Anyway, I don't want to encourage this misunderstanding."
"If you do it, I'll tell you what you want to know about Theo," Draco lied, hoping to placate his mother until after this evening's activities were through. He'd deal with her overstepping later, but figured if she believed her meddling was working, she'd take a respite. Hermione nodded quickly, apparently as eager to solve a mystery as ever.
"So sorry about that," Narcissa said as she took her seat, her eyes roving over the two of them discreetly. "Now then, Draco, Theo asked for you to head to Nott Manor. Hermione and I can finalize the items and send the list over to you two before we get primed and primped for tonight at the manor. You invited Ginny to get ready together, Hermione?" The brunette smiled in response, her willingness to return to his cursed ancestral home surprising Draco.
"He sent you an owl requesting me this morning and you asked me to come here instead?" Draco asked through his teeth, trying hard to keep his annoyance out of his voice.
"You did promise your mother breakfast, darling," Narccisa said warningly. "But go on," she dismissed him. He bid the pair of witches goodbye before leaving the cafe and apperating to Nott Manor.
"Theo?" Draco called, as he walked in. "I was told you asked for me," he added loudly, his anxiety growing as he looked around. Usually empty and quiet, Nott Manor was bustling with house elves carrying parchment and decorations.
"In here," Draco could hear Theo call from the library. As he walked in his eyes were assaulted by pure chaos. The normally tidy library, save for whatever a stack of books Granger was working through, was covered in various materials. Flowers, candles, glass marbles, and tablecloths were strewn throughout the room, with Theo and Potter sitting in the middle of it.
"What is all this?" Draco gestured to the mess, but kept his eyes on Potter.
"Your mother came here at an unbelievably early hour demanding my assistance with centerpieces. I asked her to send you over as soon as you woke up. Hermione was already gone with no note as to her whereabouts, so I floo called Miss Weasly to help. Potter picked up and offered to come over."
"Okay," Draco said readily, looking around at the mess again. "Potter, move over," Draco instructed as he began to slightly roll up and cuff his sleeves. He quickly stopped, pushing his sleeve back down over the Dark Mark before Potter noticed.
"Okay," Potter echoed, giving him a curt nod hello as he joined them on the floor. The three men quietly assembled centerpieces with wandwork.
"So, did either of you catch the Canons game this week?" Theo asked nonchalantly after a few minutes of silence. Draco furrowed his eyebrows at his friend asking about quidditch without prompting for the first time possibly ever.
"Yes! They are looking good this season," Potter smiled as he focused on magically separating different sized candles. "Obviously I have to root for the Harpies with Ginny on the team, but the Canons are a close second favorite."
"Well the Harpies have an excellent line up," Draco interjected. "So, lucky that you have to root for them." Potter gave Draco a genuine grin in response to the compliment about his partner, and Draco realized it was the first time he'd ever seen Potter look at him without suspicion, pity, or malice. The three wizards chatted casually about quidditch as they worked, Draco thankful they found a safe topic. He could always revert back to the Canons and quidditch if stuck in an interaction with the raven haired wizard in the future.
"Do you need help getting them to the venue?" Harry asked as they finalized the last centerpiece.
"No, we've got it. Thank you again for coming to the rescue, Potter," Theo clapped the other man on the back appreciatively.
"Of course. Tonight is a big deal for Hermione. I know she is hopeful that the hubbub helps with the funding this act needs to make a difference. I promised I would do everything I could to help," Potter said. "Though I imagined I'd be pulling out the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice act for donors, rather than compiling centerpieces," he chuckled, pushing his hair to the side and flashing his famous scar.
"Well I don't think you're getting out of that either. But we're lucky to have you on all fronts, right Draco?" Theo prompted, looking at him expectantly.
"Yes, thank you," Draco replied, surprised that he meant it genuinely. Perhaps Potter wasn't as big of a tosser as he thought.
As Potter left, the pair silently levitated the materials into the piles Narcissa had outlined just outside the library doors. When Theo directed the house elves to move it to the venue and set it up per Narcissa's carefully drawn diagrams, Draco studied him, waiting for some sort of outburst or confrontation. Instead his friend walked back into the library without a word. Quick on Theo's heels, Draco found himself getting more frustrated with the silence. Usually when they'd a row, Theo would quietly address the situation before reverting back to normal. After his friend settled into a loveseat with a book, Draco finally burst. "What was this today?"
"What? Trying to make an effort with Potter?" Theo asked as Draco sat on the couch across from him. "You know Hermione and he consider themselves de facto siblings, kind of the way we do. It pays to make an effort, just as I think Hermione has been trying to make with you."
"No, I mean...aren't you still angry? At me." Theo looked at him for a long time without speaking, eventually making Draco shift uncomfortably.
"Of course I am angry," Theo said calmly, his voice devoid of any rage. "I am angry that our horrible fathers put us in that position. I am angry that you were forced to do things you otherwise never would have done. Words cannot capture how furious I am that Luna was tortured and held captive, especially because I could have done something to help her," Theo's voice cracked as he spoke of Luna. Draco began to argue that point, but Theo held up a single finger telling him to wait. "But I am not angry at you. In fact, I'm sorry I lost my temper, it was just a lot to take in. I remember that night, the one you had to..." Theo trailed off, the pain of a memory playing out on his face. "I'm not sure you even remember the state you were in when you walked out of my floo, sobbing and hyperventilating. I had never seen you like that and I was bloody terrified. I thought about that a lot last night, about the boy who walked into my house and the man who tried to apologize for it yesterday." Theo's voice still even, but his eyes were watery.
"So we are okay?" Draco asked hopefully.
"You're my brother. I wouldn't let anything get in the way of that." Draco released a breath, gratitude flooding through him. At his friend's words, he considered telling him about his slip up with Hermione the other day, but decided to wait on that. Draco didn't want to start anything now that they'd made up and just prior to the big event. The blond internally vowed to explain everything fully later in the week and deal with the consequences then, whatever they may be.
"Thank you. For what is worth, I enjoyed seeing how happy you are with her," Draco said softly, making his friend beam.
"She is incredible, isn't she?" Theo asked excitedly, a look of wonder crossing his face that made him look younger. Memories of the shy and excitable boy he grew up with popped into Draaco's mind, before Theo lost his mum and his world became colder, darker, and unyieldingly unfair.
"She certainly is," Draco agreed, thinking incredible was the perfect word for the strange witch. "Though I am devastated I can no longer use you to distract Mother from her matchmaking efforts, as I certainly need a break," he teased as he stood. "I have to head back home and start getting ready. Can I still count on you to show up early and help me check all the boxes? Granger and I were meant to, but Mother insisted they prepare together instead."
"Yeah, happy to. And just be thankful your mum is keeping Hermione occupied so she can't micromanage the process." At this both the wizards sniggered, sharing a knowing glance.
A few hours later, Draco was nearly dressed for the evening. Both Tippy and his mother insisted he wear his gray dress robes to bring out his eyes. He surrendered, thankful he didn't have to buy anything new or subject himself to another Tippy tailoring experience. Before he could leave, he realized he needed cufflinks. He'd torn his room apart trying to find the silver and green ones Narcissa gifted him for his graduation before asking Tippy for help. After a half hour of looking, she returned and tearfully told him they weren't in the cottage or manor. As he debated changing to something more casual, Draco remembered he'd passed out at Blaise's after the last charity event he attended, presumably leaving them there. He decided against going over now and derailing his schedule further, instead opting to borrow some from his father. "It is not as though he will be using them," Draco reasoned as he apperated into his father's study. He grabbed his cufflinks, shaped as snakes that were enchanted to slither, from the top drawer where his father kept them and decided to alert his mother that he'd be leaving.
Turning the corner, a nest of caramel curls came into his view. Still in her clothes from breakfast and not near ready for the ball, Granger was standing, frozen, staring up at the same doors she'd had a panic attack in front of months ago. Gripping the cold metal cufflinks in his hand, he stopped and slammed his eyes shut, hoping it was his imagination. As he reopened them, the short witch was still silently standing there. Draco quickly realized she must have gotten lost again on her way to get ready. The younger Malfoy would have walked away, uneager to interact with someone emotionally vulnerable if he didn't absolutely need to, but that was a luxury he didn't have anymore; not with Hermione Granger, not about this.
"Back here again?" Draco called, causing her to turn in surprise. "No crying this time, I see," he added as he got closer. He expected to see her on the verge of tears or shaky, but instead her expression was one of cold indifference. She was analyzing him with each step he took, calculating something by the time he stood across from her.
"Malfoy, why did you help me?" Hermione asked lowly, her voice eerily calm. He thought back to her panic attack and the unfortunate way he handled it.
"Didn't we already cover this?" Draco scoffed, trying to sound relaxed even though her demeanor and the setting had him anything but. "I didn't want you to think I was evil. Or still evil, I suppose."
"I mean help us. Why did you help us?" Hermione asked, the mask breaking and confusion pouring through. His stomach sinking, Draco knew exactly what she was asking, but was scrambling to figure out why. "That day we got captured. You refused to identify us," Hermione clarified, waiting for an answer.
"I can't believe you could call what I did that day help," he replied bitterly. "But wasn't this dissected enough at the trial?" Draco looked back down the hallway he came, entertaining just walking away and pretending she hadn't taken a hacksaw to their precarious arrangement of civility. They weren't meant to be talking about the war, or his worst memories. They were supposed to stick to safe topics, like he had with Potter earlier.
"I know you knew it was us. How could you not? You helped by not saying anything," Hermione insisted.
"I stood there while my insane aunt carved you up," Draco said sharply, the contempt he had for himself in that moment clear in his voice. "Marked you with someone nearly as bad as what I have."
"You couldn't have stopped it," Hermione said softly, gently reaching out towards him. Draco took a large step back, wishing he could disappear.
"I know."
"But why didn't you identify us?" Hermione asked after taking a deep breath. "I still wonder."
"Been on your mind a lot lately?" He grumbled, taking another step back and shoving his hands in his pockets. Unwelcome shame pooled in his stomach and crept up the back on his neck.
"Malfoy," Hermione said sternly, her dark brows furrowed at him.
"Is this some sort of sick payback?" Draco asked angrily, his patience thoroughly spent after an emotionally exhausting week. "Making me relive it? I already do every single time I look at you," Draco yelled, making the witch in front of him flinch. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, I didn't believe in the cause," he said quietly, fighting for calm. "I hated the evil bastard dragging us into war. I was terrified of losing my parents, losing my life. I didn't want to play the pawn in a match that I had no stake in." Hermione nodded, absentmindedly biting her lower lip as he spoke, clearly processing. "For what it is worth, I wish I did more. That day is one of my many regrets," Draco added sincerely. He was sure something was in the water today, given his interactions with both Potter and Granger. All he needed was a heartfelt moment with Weasley and he'd be three for three in a game he never wanted to play.
Unlike Potter, Hermione didn't take his words in stride. Instead, she was lost in thought, staring at the doors again. Eventually, Draco realized he'd need to go to help Theo with final preparations. "I believe my mother will send out a search party if you aren't up there to get ready soon."
"Right," Hermione said, finally retching her gaze from the doors to look at Draco. "You look far more ready than I am," she said as she gave him a quick once over. "Are you heading over early?"
"Yes, Theo is heading over with me. Or he's probably already there, I think I am late. I came into grab cufflinks and," he looked down to the cufflinks he'd been clutching in his hand. Red indents in the shape of snakes marked his hand. Hoping to quickly forget this conversation and return to their prior agreement, he shakily asked, "Actually, do you mind?" Draco held them out to her, the pair slithering together in his hand. "I can never do them myself."
"Of course," Hermione said softly, her soft hand brushing his as she reached to grab one. Draco held his wrist up to her, which she gingerly held with one hand. Without a word, she hooked the snake in with her thin and decidedly nimble fingers, adjusting the cuff down his arm. "Good?" He nodded in response. As she repeated the process with his other hand, she looked up at him. "Thanks, Malfoy. For everything." He gave her a grim smile as he adjusted the sleeves once more.
"See you tonight, Granger."