TITLE:

THANK YOU

SUMMARY:

The Golden Trio find themselves becoming a foursome as none other than Draco Malfoy joins them on a World Tour to spread hope back into the Wizarding World - all orchestrated by the Ministry.

Draco and Hermione find little bits of Forgviness and Understanding on the way.

DISCLAIMER-

Unfortunately I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters, locations. The plot is my own thought up, late one night idea i decided to give a whirl.

March 1999

The Wizarding world was in uproar when his case had been dropped after the war.

The evidence was stacked against him. Merlin, he even had the blasted Dark Mark on his arm. That alone should have given him fifty years in Azakaban. But one day, whilst Draco Malfoy waited in a dark, mouldy cell that he pictured living out the rest of his miserable life in, Harry-fucking-Potter had shown up and saved the day.

Yet again.

That boy had an ego the size of Dumbledore's.

Stupid hero-complex and their stupid need to save everybody. Maybe people wanted to be damned for their actions, to be punished because they felt like it would make them sleep better.

Still, Scar-head came down from his pedestal the Ministry had put him on since he dissolved Voldemort into nothing more than dust and shown his face, pleaded against Draco's case and got him out as if it had been that easy all along.

Draco came to find out later that it was his Mother that had gone to Potter and begged him to help her son like she had helped him on that fatal day. It made Draco sour to think of his Mother doing something so low as to beg for his life. He didn't deserve it and he didn't deserve her love, not after what he had put her through.

It took a couple of months to feel... normal again.

His Mother loaded him with food he had been refused in his cell, making him lanky and bony. His clothes had hung off of him at first but now they were more snug, more fitting to his filling out form. His Mother had fussed over him everyday, not letting him out of her sight. They didn't leave the Manor, didn't dare venture out into the real world where there were real people who would judge them. So instead they passed the time by cleaning out the Manor.

It was hard work. Good work. It distracted him, made the days pass quicker and the nights less daunting because by the time he fell into bed, he was exhausted and slept without dreams. There were times that were a struggle. It was days when he found something that triggered him, like an elves item of clothing, or the day he went down to the dungeons and saw the blood on the floor. He didn't sleep on those days and resorted to drinking alone in a small study lined with books.

It was five months later when the wards screamed that someone was at the Manor's border. Draco had Apparated from the library he was refurnishing and straight to the gardens where he stood before the iron gates, staring in shock at Hermione Granger.

Draco noticed that she had changed a lot since he had last saw her on the battle field at Hogwarts, screaming for Potter and clinging onto the Weasel as blood dripped from her forehead. Her hair was still a frizzy mess and her figure was skinny, too skinny. Her face was angular and sharp, her brown gaze unnerving and lethal. She was dressed in all black, the long cloak billowed out behind her with the breeze as she stood impassive at his gates.

Neither moved for a while, seemingly sizing up the other. Draco didn't know if it was a test sent to him by the Ministry. He didn't know if she had came out herself to see if the rumours were true and he had got off free because of her friend and their saviour.

It wasn't until his Mother had Apparated next to him, scaring him out of his stare off with Granger that he saw the slight twitch in her hand, as if she were reaching for her wand. What surprised him most though, was how open his Mother was in greeting the person who she had always deemed unworthy because of her blood.

Draco had watched as they embraced like old friends and they walked back to the Manor, arm in arm with Granger throwing him a smirk over her shoulder. He found himself scampering after them to keep up.

It was a test after all. Her presence was no accident and if anything went by the small signs Draco noticed in her body language, then she didn't want to be there as much as he didn't want her there. Her gaze darted around the rooms they passed and he noticed his Mother leading her to the part of the house where Granger hadn't been tortured in, although they had burnt that part of the house the first week Draco had been freed.

Granger had arrived with a proposition from the Ministry. She called it a proposition with a prissy look on her face as she glared at him from down her nose. He had laughed it off until it wasn't funny anymore and his Mother had reached over and smacked him upside the head.

It was blackmail. Blackmail wrapped in a neat little box with a bow that would blow up if he refused.

Funnily enough, Draco found that Granger spoke about the Ministry with more venom in her tone than he would've expected. After all, she was one third of the Golden Trio and the Ministry loved her from what his Mother told him over her morning reads of the Daily Prophet.

The Golden Trio were going on a world tour.

They were being sent around the globe to all Wizarding communities where they would speak to the people affected by the war.

And naturally, they needed a well behaved ex-Death Eater to back up their tales.

Granger told him that he didn't need to do anything but maybe show his face here and there whilst they did all the talking and he was ever so happy to hear those words.

He still hadn't properly come to terms with what went down. Azkaban didn't exactly have people to talk to, so Draco hadn't spoke to anyone about anything. He knew it was unhealthy and he knew his Mother was only trying to help when she asked if he wanted to tell her anything but he didn't imagine spilling all the horrific, gory details onto his already delicate Mother.

It was tempting to say no. It was tempting to see what Granger would do if he laughed in her face and sent her back to tell the Ministry what he thought of their offer. It was tempting to see what they would do to him.

One look at his Mother however, who sat wringing her hands so tightly they turned white and was staring at him with so much hope, it shattered a bit of his heart, he found himself turning to the girl, who's life he had made miserable, and nodding.

"I'm in."

Surprisingly, upon first re-greeting, Scar-head and Weasel were... pleasant. Probably down to Granger giving them an earful before they entered the pub they were told to meet at.

His Mother had given him one too. Told him to mind his mouth and do whatever they ordered of him, whether he liked it or not.

This is an opportunity for us, my dragon. Get our name back out there without your Fathers tarnish on it. Show them all that we are strong, that we are here.

Draco didn't think that was the best idea when the world was so fragile and still wobbling on the balance of grief and revenge.

Alas, he digressed and now found himself sipping Butterbeer with the Golden Trio on a Monday morning whilst awaiting orders from the Ministry.

"Ginny's tryouts are today. I hope she doesn't bottle it." The Weasel said around slurps of froth.

"She'll be fine," Granger reassured when Potter didn't say anything.

The small talk was unbearable. Draco didn't know if it was because he was there and making it awkward or whether their relationships had just fizzled into nothing now they weren't running around trying to save everybody.

Time passed. The Weasel tried to make conversation, Granger joined in every now and then and Potter couldn't stop looking around the room as if waiting for someone to jump out on him.

Draco noted Granger drank... a lot. He noted Potter eyed her every sip and the Weasel drummed his fingers on the table.

Thankfully, it was the Minister himself that saved them. Kingsley Shacklebolt suited the high up position. He wore it well and proud as he sauntered into the small country pub and smiled at a few wizards who recognised him as he made his way to their small table in the corner.

"Morning," He greeted cheerfully, too cheerfully for the group of brooding looking people. "Shall we get down to business?"

The question was rhetorical so nobody answered which kicked Kingsley into a running monologue of plans and details that they were set out to accomplish.

"Six communities. A couple of funerals here and there that you need to show your support at. Hermione, try and cry," Kingsley pointed at her and she reeled back in shock but the Minister continued, "Go in, give your speech, shake a couple of hands, make nice and smile. Agree with their sympathy, compliment their efforts, no matter how small, discourage their need for revenge." Kingsley threw a pointed look at Draco who quirked an eyebrow.

"That's going to be hard with him lurking around," The Weasel made a good point, "What's he doing here anyway?"

Granger threw a suspiciously cryptic look at Potter who ignored her. "He needs to be here. We need to show unity. If we show we've moved on and can forgive him then so can everyone else. Lead by example."

Draco almost lost his eyes in the back of his head, "Memorised the speech pretty quick didn't you, Potter?" he smirked when Scar-head sneered.

"Forgiven him? Forgiven him! Like bloody hell!" The Weasel exclaimed and Granger hung her head, "We can't go around and play nice, Kingsley. We're not puppets."

"You will do as the Ministry tells you, no question. That was the deal." Kingsley suddenly lost the happy tone he entered with, his face becoming serious, "You are all here on orders. We need this to go to plan so you will swallow your pride, your past, your grudges and make it work."

The silence that followed was uncomfortable.

Draco wanted to say something just to break it. The Weasel glared at the Minister with such force he could have been charged for treason. Potter was clenching and unclenching his fists around his beer.

"You son of a bitch."

The venom in which Granger spat her words had Draco doing a double take.

"'Mione, don't." Potter tried to warn his friend but it fell on deaf ears. His hands came away from his beer and reached across the middle of the table to grab Grangers but she snatched hers away.

Draco couldn't help but watch with morbid fascination and a smirk on his face, waiting to see how this played out.

"How dare you do this to him?! After all he's been through, for you, for us, for the whole fucking Wizarding World and the Muggle world even!" Grangers chest was heaving as her eyes hardened on each word, "It's barbaric, really, that you think it's okay. You, of all people should have had his back. You should have stood in that room and told them no."

"Be very careful with what you chose to say to me next, Miss Granger." Kingsley sat with furrowed brows, his body leaning towards Granger as if daring her to continue.

Potter was still reaching for her, the Weasel was wide-eyed and curious, his own mouth twitching, cheering her on.

Granger seemed to remember where she was. Her brown eyes landing on Draco and something flashed over them.

"This is all you get. This is the last thing we do for you. After this, we are our own people. We owe no debt to anybody but ourselves to live out our life's the way we want to without any interfering or meddling the Ministry might wish to take." Granger stood, baring down on Kingsley who actually looked rather shocked and... impressed? "I'll assume you're getting the bill."

And then she was gone.

"Well, if you're buying, sir, we'll take another one for the road."

The best idea the Weasel had all morning.

The appearance of Malfoy the Death Eater didn't go down too well. Not that Draco had any other reasons to believe it would've been all rainbows and sunshine.

They stopped off in Paris on their way through to Italy.

Streets were lined with people. Shop windows were decorated with ribbons and small fireworks went off when they took to the stages.

The Golden Trio received smiles and waves and flowers thrown at them. Little kids couldn't scream loud enough. Wizards nodded their heads and witches pretended not to cry and shook their handkerchiefs as they passed.

Draco did his best to stay in the shadows. He got away with it in Paris. He got a couple of boo's and glares but nobody dared say anything out loud either due to the fact he was with the trio or because he was a big bad Death Eater.

The threesome did their speech, only including Draco a couple of times about how much he had changed and how much money the Malfoys had donated to charities around the world to help rebuild and how he was just a boy at the time doing what his Father ordered.

There was a nagging of guilt Draco didn't like building in him when they said that. He wasn't a naive boy who didn't know what he was getting into and they knew that. He knew what he was doing. He knew he was housing (though through his Fathers choice) the worlds deadliest wizard.

It changed him. It made him.

It made him do whatever was necessary to protect his Mother.

Still, people must have heard he was tagging along on the tour and thanks to the glowing recommendation from the Trio, the glares lessened.

By the time they got to Italy he noticed a few women blushing as he passed and he resisted the urge to vomit.

Kingsley didn't like Draco not speaking. Granger had received a howler at breakfast one morning at their hotel and after squeezing the life out of it for a good ten minutes, Weasley had snatched it out of her hands and opened the inevitable sound of the Ministers screeching orders.

What are you playing at? Do you not listen to orders? Get Malfoy out there, get him heard, get him seen! The world needs to see you all getting along. Miss Granger, you're not crying enough. Mr Potter don't talk so much about the dead, talk about the living and Mr Weasley, stop promoting your brothers Joke shop!

Glasses in the breakfast hall of the hotel had suddenly smashed without being touched and the windows vibrated. Draco had to begrudgingly decide he was impressed with Grangers non-verbal magic, even when it was out of control.

"Only three more weeks to go." Potter drawled, shaking his round of toast free of glass and orange juice and taking a bite.

They were at their fifth stop of the tour.

Sydney, Australia.

Granger was on edge from the moment they took the Port-key in the shape of a bucket out of Barcelona.

The Weasel and Scar-head seemed to know what was up with her but none of them apparently felt the need to share so Draco went about giving Granger looks out of the corner of his eye.

She fidgeted. She twirled her hair. She twitched.

He actually had to stop himself from looking at her when he realised he was doing it too often and picking up on the littlest things.

How she pursed her lips when she was concentrating. How her nose crinkled when Weasel and Potter started bickering like an old married couple. How her eyes lost focus when half way through their little speech she paused and Draco followed her gaze. A Wizard was lifting his daughter onto his shoulders so she could timidly wave at the Golden Trio from a better vantage point and he pulled a witch into his side with a small smile on his face.

She only came out of it when Potter nudged her aside and carried on telling the crowd about how they had moved on and were rebuilding Hogwarts and Diagon Alley and how they promised to stick around for any questions.

Granger didn't stick around though.

Weasley and Potter didn't look shocked when she excused herself and left them to venture into the crowd and sign some posters and scarfs people shoved into their hands.

Draco's curiosity officially got the best of him.

He followed her, ignoring the witches crying his name to come back and sign their own posters of him. They were a new thing that only just started to happen in Germany. Weasel had pointed it out when he caught a glimpse of one of them being waved in the air. It was an old Quidditch photo of Draco in his Slytherin green and it seemed like forever ago since he was that boy but something came over him and he found himself signing it before he could stop.

Granger was fast when she wanted to be. Faster than two of the Aurors who were sent to be their guards and had went after her like Draco. She shook them off quickly and almost him too, if it hadn't had been for the tell-tale bushy hair he always looked out for in school so he could go and pick on her.

She stopped across the street from a little restaurant with a couple of outdoor seating and classical music pouring through the door.

It was like she was frozen. People went about their lives still, walking around her, passing her like she wasn't even there. Her gaze was locked onto the table in the wide windows, or more specifically the couple sat at that table drinking from their glasses of wine.

Draco stood behind her. Waiting. Watching.

She must have known he was there, he could tell by the way her shoulders rounded slightly but she didn't acknowledge him and he knew he was intruding on some weird alone time that she needed but she wasn't telling him to fuck off either so he pushed his luck and stayed.

"Jean and Richard Granger."

Draco didn't know who she was talking to at first, maybe she just needed to get whatever it was off her chest.

"They don't know they have a daughter. They don't know who I am."

The heartache in her voice made Draco wince slightly and he was glad he was stood behind her so she didn't see. From his angle though, he saw a lone tear slide down her cheek.

"There's nothing that can be done. Before he was a controlling arse, Kingsley actually sent Obliviators to try. I didn't get my hopes up. Not to be big-headed or anything, but i'm not called the Brightest-witch-of-our-age for nothing." Granger half laughed, half choked on a small sob.

Taking a step forward so he was lined up with her, he angled his body her way and stared at her hopelessly open suffering.

"I didn't know." He found himself dumbly admitting, not that she cared.

"Good," She wiped at her cheeks, "that's how I wanted it. Nobody knew. Not even Harry and Ron for a while. I needed to keep them safe."

"And removing their memory of you was the only way to keep them out of Voldemort's grasp." Draco caught on, wondering how she even had the strength to do the spell, let alone how strong it was that it couldn't be reversed.

Granger shrugged, "One less thing to worry about, I suppose."

Draco knew she didn't mean it. She wasn't as cold hearted as she liked people to think. It was all a front. "But you still keep tabs on them."

"Of course," Granger nibbled her lip, her gaze still focused on her parents, "I've not forgotten them."

"That's one hell of a sacrifice." Draco breathed. After all he had been through and done, he knew deep down he probably wouldn't have had the courage to pursue the same path as her.

"It had to be done. For Harry."

Fucking Saint Potter.

Grangers Gryffindor bleeding heart was forever surprising Draco. The woman seemed to have no limits, no boundaries, good or bad.

Doing something he hadn't done for a long while, not even to his Mother, he decided Granger needed it more than his own ego right now and he reached out, ever so slowly, giving her time to move away but she didn't. His hand came in contact with hers, just a brush at first. Pinky against pinky. And at the hitch of her breath, somewhat spearing him on, he wrapped his longer fingers around her palm and gave a little squeeze.

"Thank you," Hermione Granger sighed.

It happened in New York.

Some lunatic saw his opening and decided to fire spells through the crowd of people who were peacefully gathered to listen to their hero's as they spewed out their speeches of hope.

It all happened so quick.

A red jet of light hit Granger in the shoulder and she went down, Weasley crowding over her whilst Potter drew his own wand, searching the scattering crowd.

The Auror guards jumped into the fray and then more spells were being fired as they tried to round up the lone shooter.

Draco realised he was clenching his own wand, his gaze darting to try and catch the guy himself as Granger hissed in pain behind him.

"There!" Potter shouted and Draco followed his pointed finger to the guy who held a struggling witch by her throat to the front of his body like a shield.

"Easy," The Aurors crowded the guy, forming a semi-circle around him as he backed himself into a corner.

"Stay back!" The guy exclaimed, digging his wand into the witches throat.

Draco and Potter hopped down from the stage, their strides strong and in sync as they bore down on the scene.

"What do you want?" Potter asked, taking the good guy role and trying to talk the on edge man down.

"I lost my daughter- my wife to people like him!" The guy nodded to Draco who stood and took the blame. Honestly, he was surprised something like this hadn't happened before. He just didn't think the public's anger would be taken out on the Trio because of him.

"And this will bring them back? Do you think they'll want you to go down this road?" An Auror asked, stepping slightly closer.

"Stop!" Potter barked when the witch cried out as the wand at her throat drew blood.

"There will never be peace as long as they live! We must kill them all for what they have done! Why do they get to live whilst my girls lie in the ground?!"

Bile rose in his throat. He knew what he'd done. He knew how many people he'd killed. But there was something raw, something real about having a victim of his crimes stand before him and point them all out, drag them all out in the open. He deserved it. He needed it.

"Let the girl go and we can sort this out," Potter tried to reassure, lowering his wand slightly in a sign of surrender.

The guy shook his head quickly, "No. I know how this ends. I didn't come here thinking I was going to walk out of it. I need to do this..."

Suddenly, the witch was pitched forward and she fell to her knees, crawling over to an Auror who signalled for her. Potter tried to shout something, but it was filled out by the ringing in Draco's ears as the guys angered gaze fixated on Draco and then there was a flash of green.

Admittedly, it was cringe worthy but Draco prepared himself. His body tensed and maybe he did have enough time to throw up a shield and deflect the spell but he wanted to see what would happen. Would he feel sad in his last moments before the spell took over? Would he cry for his Mother? Would he feel at peace?

He never got to find out.

Squinting one eye open, Draco watched the green light bounce off of the blue shield a hairs width away from his nose. Turning his head, he caught sight of a wounded Granger back on her feet, one hand cradling her bleeding shoulder, the other clenching her wand.

The browns of her eyes were so deep, they almost looked black. Her chest was heaving, her stance strong and defensive as she twirled her wand again and disarmed the guy who fell to his knees in her bonds.

"Take him to the Ministry."

The Aurors grabbed for him and two of them Apparated out of there as he struggled against them, spittle flying from his mouth as he raged, "This isn't the end! I'm not the only one who wants revenge! Remember their names, you Death Eater scum! Annabelle and Mary Voight! You killed them!"

There was a crack! of Apparition and then he was gone.

Thankfully, most of the people had ran so far they didn't see the little show in its epic fuck-up proportions. There were a couple of people crouched behind walls and stalls that ducked back up timidly when the coast was clear, all looking in awe at Granger who was looking at Draco.

Grangers mouth opened as if she was going to say something but then Potter and Weasley were on her, shoving her at an Auror who supplied Dittany and ordered them all back to their hotel.

Kingsley was there when they arrived in Grangers room. The Ministry were being rather giving when it came to their accommodations at their destinations and for that, Draco was grateful.

They might be more civil now but he was over the moon they didn't have to share rooms.

Granger was sat on a sofa, the Auror waving a wand over her shoulder and sewing her skin back up. She was pale and her hands were stained red but she was alive.

Potter sat next to her, squeezing her hand and Draco thought it was more for his own benefit than hers. The guilt on his face was evident.

Though Draco knew he bore the most guilt.

Weasley stormed in the room with a tray of drinks he had commandeered from the bar downstairs. Draco snatched one as he blew by and downed it.

"Mr Voight has been detained and currently being questioned under veritaserum. We're trying to find out if his accusations are correct and if he was working with other people and not by himself." Kingsley informed the occupants of the room.

"And the witch he held hostage?" Granger piped up, leaning back against the pillows when the Auror had finished.

"Fine. She's fine. Grateful to be alive and requesting a signed photo from you, her saviour," Kingsley tipped his head at Granger who sneered as if he hadn't just complimented her for saving someone.

"Surely this sets our whole peace to the world and everybody love each other campaign back? What do we do now?" Weasley asked, bouncing in his seat on Grangers bed, "Yours is comfier than mine."

"Actually, Mr Weasley," Kingsley said, "It worked more in our favour."

Draco was listening intently and ignored the look Granger was giving him. He couldn't look at her right now, not when she hadn't washed the blood from under her finger nails.

"The public saw the way you all worked together. How Miss Granger saved Mr Malfoy. They all witnessed the bravery and heroics and they all went through the same fear they had when Voldemort was around. More people want peace than revenge. We can use this."

Potter chuckled under his breath, "Why didn't we just have someone try and kill Malfoy before?"

Granger smacked Potter on the arm and he shrugged at her innocently in return. Weasley choked on his drink and then raised it in mock toast, "Would have saved us all this bloody trouble."

Kingsley blew out a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he were dealing with a pair of children and Draco wanted him to experience having to travel the world with them. Then his patience would be really tested.

"I would've been down for that if it meant I wouldn't of had to see Weasley and Potters ugly mugs every morning." Draco drawled and it surprised him when the room laughed in return.

"Boys," Granger shook her head and smiled when he finally met her gaze.

Draco went to visit Annabelle and Mary's graves. They were covered in snow and the flowers put down before were brown and dead.

Pulling out his wand, Draco replaced the flowers and brushed the snow away so he could see it more clearly.

They died on the day Voldemort had ordered a raid on a small hospital in Essex. Draco had been there but never did he cast the killing curse. These two deaths were curtesy of his Father.

There was some relief to know it hadn't actually been him that killed them, but the feeling didn't last long when he realised he also did nothing to save them either.

There was a rustle behind him and a crunching of snow and Draco reeled around to demand who was disturbing him when he came face to face with Granger.

Neither said anything but she did offer him a shy smile as she came forward and twirled her own wand. White roses appeared beside Draco's he had just placed down.

"I heard what you did for Mr Voight." Granger said, her breath coming out in a cloud as she tried to huddle further into her cloak.

Draco shrugged, "It wouldn't have done him any good being locked up in Azkaban. He was a desperate man who misses his family."

Draco had received an owl from Kingsley a few days back wondering if he wanted to press charges against Mr Voight. Of course his answer had been no. There wasn't even a need for a moment to think about it.

All Draco wanted was for Kingsley to make sure the man got help.

"You're a good man, Draco Malfoy."

Laughing out a harsh breath, Draco stuffed his hands in his pockets and tipped his head down, "You clearly haven't been paying attention then."

"You might not believe it yet but I see it. Harry does too. Maybe not Ron just yet, although he don't like to admit it, he did enjoy some of your company when we were away. And maybe the world doesn't see it yet or they never will, but you are." Granger said and Draco wanted to laugh again because had she lost her mind?

"Why are you telling me this?" He demanded to know, getting slightly wound up.

Granger sighed, "I saw what you did when Mr Voight attacked you. You didn't defend yourself. You didn't do anything but wait for... what you think is the inevitable? And your inevitable is dying for what you've done?" she nibbled her lip, something Draco knew she did quite a lot when she didn't know whether to carry on or not but something in her mind must've told her she was this far in, why not go further because she continued, "You deserve to live. You deserve to be here and be free."

The words settled onto Draco's skin, his walls he had built up for a long time, since he was eleven and his Father had told him what he was and who he followed, were unyielding and didn't want to let her words slip through but then he felt the slightest of touches on his arm as Granger slid her freezing, cold hand into his cloak pocket and wrapped it around his hand fisted in there.

Like the snow melting against the warming sun, his walls were dripping away, slowly. It would always be slowly with Draco.

Grangers worlds settled into his bones, his blood, his mind and like she had said, maybe he didn't believe it or the world didn't yet or ever have too, but he knew for sure she was going to try and spend the rest of her life making him live his own life and deserve it and Merlin was she stubborn.

Unclenching his fist and quickly seizing a hold of her own, he brought their hands out of the warmth of his pocket and stared into the warm, brown eyes of the Hermione Granger, his saving grace and placed a small kiss on the back of her hand..

"Thank you." He whispered against her skin.