AN: Welcome to my first fic!
Huge amounts of Beta love to PotionChemist for reviewing this and keeping my thoughts organized into one voice!
I do not own anything. All rights to JKRowling
November 2001
"How is this even possible?"
"Love, calm down. It's just a silly story."
"But to think... to think that... I just... UGH!"
Hermione pushed her chair back from the dining room table in rage. She threw the Muggle newspaper down on the table in a huff, her magic rippling out from her in a rage.
Pressing his slim fingers to the bridge of his nose and pinching tightly, Draco, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Salazar knew he didn't want to say the wrong thing when he could practically see the magic ebbing from her.
He just wanted to see a film. That's all. Hermione had been telling him about how much she loved going to the theatre with her parents and he wanted to know what all the fuss was about.
He wished he had never asked.
"Was it not enough that there was a war going on? And now to find out someone was profiting from us the entire time!" Hermione screeched. There was the distant sound of crystal shattering behind them. Draco closed his eyes. Sod it. It was probably that ugly bowl anyway.
"Love, I really think you're overreacting about—"
"OVERREACTING?" She spun to face him, striding closer until he could feel her breath tickle under his chin. She'd be threatening if not for the height difference.
"No..." he sighed again, taking a deep breath and placing his hands on her upper arms to calm her. "Hermione, love, you're forgetting that people have profited from your life many times before. It was always lies. Why does this bother you so much more? It's just some Muggle movie."
Her eyes tightened into a glare, tipping her head back to look at him more closely. "Well, love, it bothers me because... because the Statute of Secrecy is being violated! What if someone finds out it's all real? And then what? Not to mention, again, that someone is profiting from my life!"
"I mean, technically it's—"
"AND ANOTHER THING! Has he not suffered enough? Have we all not lost enough already? And now to lose our privacy in the one place I thought we all had it!" Hermione's magic rippled again and Draco flinched as sparks nipped at his fingers. He inhaled through clenched teeth and dropped his fingers from her shoulders.
There was a pause as Hermione took a deep breath and began quietly counting backwards from ten. She turned her back to him, surely knowing that this was not his fault. She had been working on controlling her outbursts of anger and frustration, and she would feel incredibly guilty if she put him in St Mungos...again.
Silence stretched longer, broken only by the faint sound of music playing from the other room.
Finally, Hermione turned on her heel and smirked at Draco. "Get your things, we're going to see a film."
He opened his mouth to retort but paused, rolling the words around before settling on the right question. "Are you sure you want to see this film? We could find a different theatre or just go another day. Aren't Potter and she-Potter coming over later?"
"We're going to see this movie," she said with finality in her voice.
Two hours and 32 minutes of film, and a trip to a Muggle bookstore later, Draco was left with a scowl on his face. Idiotic Muggles and their dumb films and books.
Hermione let out a small giggle at Draco's tantrum. She quickly slid the books into her beaded bag with the undetectable extension charm on it.
"It's not funny," Draco said finally, "I will not have him over for drinks again until he apologizes to me. Stupid git wouldn't shake my hand."
"Draco! That was ages ago!" Hermione glanced up at him and grinned. "He apologized after the war, and at our engagement party, and even again last week. You have to remember how he was raised. He didn't have your privileges."
"How could I forget? I just watched a film about his sodding life! Not to mention that there are books about it too!" There was a pause as Draco sighed and closed his eyes. When he spoke again, his voice was low and unsure. "Was it really that bad for him?"
Hermione sobered at that. Her smile fell and she watched Draco until he opened his eyes again. "Yes, it was, but that wasn't your fault. You were a child. You were a right prat, but you were not at fault for his home life."
She leaned up and pulled him into a deep kiss, hoping to convince him that he was no longer the spoiled child he had been portrayed as. Unfortunately, much of the film was accurate, and she knew that Draco hated being reminded of the wanker he once was, of the things he went through in his teen years. She didn't even want to think about what might be in the books.
As if reading her thoughts, Draco asked, "What if there are more books? What if they write about fifth and sixth year?"
"Malfoy… Draco," Hermione stroked his cheek gently, "you are not that boy. Hell, you were never that boy. You know that, and I know that, and Harry knows that. We know you're a good man. Our world knows the part you played. They don't doubt you. Don't let a world that has never met the real Draco Malfoy define who you are."
There was a long silence as Draco pressed his forehead against hers. "I love you," he said finally, pressing a featherlight kiss to her temple.
"Come on, Harry and Ginny will be waiting for us." She grabbed his hand and pulled him around the corner, out of sight. Hugging him close, she Apparated them to the front porch of their small country cottage.
Small by Draco's standards. He refused to call it a mansion since it didn't have a ballroom and it was not a mansion without a ballroom. It was all semantics to Hermione.
The large Tudor style home sat in the middle of a large clearing. There was ivy growing up the sides, and the flowers Neville had given them as a housewarming gift were still in full bloom. Even though it was late November, much of the home was still surrounded by beauty — Neville had really outdone himself, bringing plants that would bloom colour year round, even in the harsh British winters.
Hermione smiled at the sight of their home, always thankful that she was able to convince Draco to move out of the manor. The promise of shagging in every room had helped her win that argument.
"Finally you're back! We've been waiting for ages," yelled Ginny from the drawing room when they entered. "Harry was convinced you'd forgotten about our plans for drinks this evening." She smirked at the dark-haired wizard sitting beside her.
"I was not," Harry whined at his wife. He crossed his arms and let out a huff of air, making the black fringe in front of his face flutter.
Smiling, Hermione pulled Ginny into a tight hug and laughed, "Of course we didn't! We just had an interesting evening. I took Draco to see a film."
"Stupid Muggles," Draco grumbled, stomping into the room and right past Harry.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ignore him. He's just upset that the Muggles think he's a bully."
"I was eleven! Didn't you say all young boys are evil?" Draco stalked over to their liquor cabinet and pulled out the firewhisky, tipping the large bottle back and taking a long pull from the amber liquor. When he was done, he held the bottle out to Harry and grimaced, "Your life sucks. You need a drink."
Harry gaped at the words but accepted the bottle anyway. After taking a drink and handing it back to Draco, he looked to Hermione for answers.
"It seems someone sold our story to the Muggle world," she said, scowling as she settled on the couch. She tugged at Draco's hand until he sat next to her, still brooding. Apparently their talk moments ago hadn't been as effective as she had hoped. "There are four books so far… and a film."
"And I'm barely in it!" Draco cried dramatically, covering his face with his arm. He pulled the bottle to his lips again. Rolling her eyes, Hermione grabbed the bottle from him. She took a deep pull of firewhisky before offering it to Ginny.
"No thanks, practice tomorrow," the ginger witch said, shaking her head with a small smile. "What do you mean someone is writing our story? About the war?"
"I am not a bully!" Draco wailed again. He sat up abruptly and looked at Hermione with panic in his eyes. "Am I a bully?"
Hermione patted Draco on the shoulder, smirking at him. "No, love. Not anymore at least."
Ginny let out a loud cough to cover her laugh and Draco scowled at her. Flopping his head back into Hermione's lap, he continued to pout.
"Hermione, I'm confused. What's going on?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed and a frown on his face.
Reaching into her bag, Hermione pulled out four books. The first three were smaller, similar in size to some of the fiction novels she'd read as a child. The last one was bigger than the three others combined. Watching his face for a reaction, she handed them over to Harry.
"Hermione," Harry took a deep breath and flipped the book over to see the back cover, "why is my name on this?"
"Like I said, someone is writing about us. The film we just saw was based on that book," Hermione tapped the cover of the book on the top of the stack, "and it was incredibly accurate. Even some of the conversations we had with Ron in privacy were included. I don't know how someone got so much detail. Rita would make sense, but being a pureblood, I doubt she'd know enough about the Muggle world to make a profit there, much less have a desire to do so."
Harry passed the stack of books over to Ginny, holding on to the first one. He turned the title of the book over in his head, mumbling the words quietly to himself.
"Harry Potter... me... Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Philosopher's stone. Hermione, this feels weird. Am I the narrator?"
Hermione nodded and handed him the firewhisky. Ginny grabbed the third book, knowing what her own story was during Harry's second year and likely not wanting to be reminded of it, should she even be included. She passed the two remaining books to Draco, who immediately handed the larger one to Hermione, knowing better than to give her the short one.
"What do we do?" Harry asked quietly, still not looking up from the book that showed a boy with a strong resemblance to him in his younger years. He traced one finger over the lightning bolt scar on his own forehead, and another over the matching one on the book.
"I don't know, Harry. I guess there's only one place to start." Hermione cracked open her book and took a deep inhale. She loved the smell of a new book, even if this one came with a hidden mystery attached.
No one said a word as they all scanned their books. Harry's eyes widened as he flipped through the pages, and Ginny gasped when she caught sight of her own name written in the text.
Laying with his head in Hermione's lap, Draco scrutinized the words as if they insulted him. Which they did. He hated being reminded of a time when he said thoughtless things and hurt the people he loved most.
"Hey, Granger," Draco said finally, "why does this one say you turned yourself into a cat?"