Measure Of A Man

by inadaze22

To truly know someone is to differentiate between who they once were, who they are now, and who they're capable of being. Hermione realises the duality of one man as she rectifies what she knows of the past and begins to understand the pieces of who Draco Malfoy is now: a father, a son, and a man.

29. The Inevitable and I

*This chapter may contain possible TWs. If you are afraid you may be triggered, please see the note at the end of this chapter before reading.

Twenty Nine
The Inevitable and I

September 4, 2011

Talking was a primitive form of expression.

It required control of one's muscles and breathing to form words and shape sentences, not to mention a degree of discipline well beyond reach in the hours since she and Draco had agreed to meet after leaving the party separately.

Draco went to finish packing while Hermione left to retrieve Scorpius. Already in pyjamas, he was snuggled between Al and James with Lily haphazardly draped over them all. It took a minute, and a glare from a mostly-sleeping three-year-old, who didn't appreciate being moved, but that was long enough for Molly to coo over their day while hand-knitting the beginnings of a little green sweater.

"For Scorpius."

The lump in her throat didn't go away.

Not as she tucked him into bed and spoke gentle words until he stopped stirring. Not even when she went home to shower. But by the time she returned to the Malfoys' home, changed and refreshed, the feeling had diminished, and she was ready to talk.

It was just after midnight, and Draco was already reclined on the sofa with a book in hand. Given how quickly he abandoned it when she shut the door behind her, it was obvious he had been waiting for her.

Joining him under the covers was easy.

Resting her head on his pillow, tangling her hand with his on his chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing—that took more effort, even if Hermione found comfort in the minutes that followed. It was impossible to lie next to him without steeping in the tension that lingered between them. Thick with unasked questions, the air held the heat that hadn't quite burned off.

"Will you regret it in the morning?"

A vulnerable question she guessed Draco regretted asking when he looked away to stare at the ceiling instead of her.

"No."

Satisfied, albeit a bit sore, she relaxed enough for a question of her own to struggle its way out. Whether it was pride or sheer stubbornness keeping her quiet in the moments that followed, she couldn't say, but curiosity never let it linger.

"Will you?"

"No."

Further discussion devolved into whispered fragments. They spoke through touches and between deepening kisses, and the sensory experience of being free to express themselves was nothing short of overwhelming.

Neither could stop touching. Holding. Caressing.

Hermione was tired but very interested in the hand that slipped under her shirt, splayed across her stomach, and drew her closer.

"Are you leaving?" His question was murmured beneath her shallow, panting breaths while his fingers drew circles on her skin.

"No." The look exchanged conveyed a thousand words. "I want to see you off. Spend the day with Scorpius. Besides, we probably should talk."

"We should."

But they didn't.

Instead, their hands spoke with impossible eloquence, tongues and lips pulling small, satisfied sounds from each other. The fragility that existed when she'd first arrived dissipated the longer Hermione held on, held him, bravely slipping a hand into his joggers to touch him.

"Lift up."

Draco was pliant in the late hour. Slightly guarded, he watched her intensely, lips parting in a gasp as she took him in hand, but when he tried to reciprocate, Hermione shook her head.

"For you."

It wasn't long before he was pushing into her slick fingers to meet each stroke. Face buried in her neck, lips on her jaw, teeth scraping her chin—he tried to make it last despite the full-body shiver that passed through him.

Hermione took her time, enjoying the weight of his cock in her hand as she touched and tested to find the right combination of pressure and angle, the twist of her wrist, until it punched the air from his lungs.

It was exhilarating.

The warmth.

The sounds he made.

The shifting intimacy found in their connection.

The tension built until the cords of muscle in his neck tightened in response.

Draco went rigid, eyes blown wide before closing tight.

His orgasm was almost violent. He gripped her wrist just before his cock throbbed, coating her fingers and his stomach; the moan that escaped him bounced off the walls.

In the afterglow, and after a cleaning charm, Hermione dragged the blanket over them both before she curled herself against him. It wasn't long until slow, sated kisses turned into the simplicity of basking in each other's presence. They fell asleep to the sound of the rain that had started without them noticing.

Hermione woke a short time later to Draco trying to slip away without alerting her. After lying in a fugue state between asleep and awake, she finally decided to sit up. By the time she freshened up in the bathroom attached to the guest room, put her hair up, and returned, Draco was dressed in his customary black with a dragon-hide bag in hand.

Waiting.

"Got everything?" Hermione asked with an odd feeling in her chest. "I could annoy you with a list."

Draco's answering huff sounded more amused than not. "Come here."

It was far too early for goodbye, but knowing this was their final moment alone before Scorpius woke, Hermione met him in the middle. She slipped her arms around him, locking her fingers together, and lifted her eyes to his.

Shuffling through the normal phrases said to someone prepared to leave, she flipped past goodbye, past hollow, unintelligible sentiments, and past saying nothing at all, before settling on something honest.

"Stay safe."

Draco said nothing, only curled a hand behind her head.

His palm was warm on her cool neck when he pressed a kiss against her forehead.

His lips lingered so long Hermione shut her eyes.

Breathed.

Carved the moment into her memory while wondering if he was doing the same.

But then Draco stepped back, bursting the bubble around them, and everything returned to normal.

Hermione fixed breakfast, Draco worked on his crossword puzzle, and Scorpius was sent down in casual clothes. He was both surprised and pleased to see her, but he knew what was coming. They'd talked to him at length in the prior days, setting expectations and leaving no room for surprises.

Still, he hovered at his dad's side, sharing more than eating his meal.

It took some coaxing from his father for him to eat, and a little more from her when Draco gave him the two-way journal and showed him how to use it. They tested how quickly the messages could be sent back and forth until it was time to go.

Goodbyes were hard.

After staring blankly in response to her pointed glare, Draco exhaled and muttered a gruff goodbye to the cactus.

The little boy's smile was still bright and pleased when Draco led the way outside and hugged his son with growing ease.

Scorpius settled in his dad's arms and didn't let go until there were two minutes left before the Portkey activated.

But Draco held on just as tight.

For just as long.

On his knees in the centre of the garden with his bag hoisted over his shoulder.

Hermione stood at a distance to give them privacy, and watched Draco speak words to Scorpius she was too far away to hear while the little boy nodded his head, still holding his hand.

Draco looked at her for the first time. A small nod prompted her to move. Standing behind his son, she placed her hands on Scorpius' shoulders as Draco rose to his full height.

"The notes are on my desk."

Pre-written just in case Scorpius didn't take to the journal.

"Full moon's on the twelfth. Stay here."

"I will." Hermione cast a glance in the direction of the door. "Where's Narcissa? She should—"

"My mother despises goodbyes." Draco picked up the Portkey—a gaudy, gold Fabergé egg. "She wished me well yesterday."

His eyes flickered down to his son who signed I miss you. The expression on his face softened and the corner of his lip quirked as he rested a hand on Scorpius' head before looking at her.

A beat of silence passed.

A look.

Then Draco stepped back and the Portkey activated. He was gone in an instant. Scorpius waved at the empty space, and that time, so did she.

---

September 7, 2011

Success was a fluid concept, one that changed based on one's current or most immediate accomplishments.

Hermione was on day two of her latest achievement.

After a deep dive through the books from the library on Sunday while Scorpius watered the plants in the conservatory and napped after a snack, and walking Narcissa through the steps the next day, Hermione assisted in setting complex, anti-Apparition wards to the Malfoys' home. And later, to hers and Andromeda's, too.

Narcissa hadn't accidentally Apparated since, which served as proof Roger's theory would work when applied to an object.

Hermione already noticed the smoothing of the edges around Narcissa's eyes. The stiffness of her demeanour began to relax as her worries about finding herself in another room or another place ebbed.

It was worth every inconvenience.

Today had been a relatively good one: only one incident of forgetfulness Keating reported overnight and another muscle tremor concern Sachs helped her through. The frequency was still unsettling with the potion brewing looming in the future, but Hermione couldn't worry about everything beyond her control.

What she did instead was cut back perennials while Narcissa deadheaded roses. Together, they planted pansies and forget-me-nots in borders and dug holes to plant kale.

The healthy flush on Narcissa's face matched her own, both tired from the laborious tasks. The decision to take a break on the swing was unspoken, but a good idea acknowledged in the exchange of looks once they sat down.

There was a nip in the breeze that hadn't been there two weeks ago.

Autumn was in the air.

More than summer or spring, its arrival always caught Hermione unaware. She never noticed the shift. One day the leaves were green and alive, and the next they were tinged with yellows and reds, both falling and floating in the wind, colouring the world in a comforting, golden light different from the summer's brightness.

Softer.

"You are quiet today, Miss Granger." Narcissa broke the comfortable silence between them. "Uncharacteristically so. I do not believe you have spoken a combined twenty words since we started working."

"Believe it or not, sometimes I'm not inclined to speak."

The sound that escaped Narcissa was impolite and preceded her infamous judgmental look.

"There have been very few days since making your acquaintance when you are not expressing your thoughts, beliefs, or opinions in some fashion." Her comment felt like a slight even though it was an observation of fact. "For the last few days, however, you have seemed mostly distracted. Perhaps you are tired or your increased involvement in my grandson's care in Draco's absence has occupied more of your time than expected."

Hermione had to remind herself not to take the tempting bait.

The topic itself was still sore, despite the diminishing tension between her and Draco. But Catherine had her marching orders, and should any emergency arise, she was to defer to Hermione.

Shocking news for her, but it made sense given Narcissa's state.

In truth, Hermione expected Narcissa to reassert herself in Scorpius' day-to-day planning in Draco's absence, but she hadn't.

Her questions to Catherine each day were less pointed and more curious.

As was her interest regarding Hermione's new activity with Scorpius.

With security a safe distance behind them, they walked to the park near the Malfoys' home. The trips began as a whim. After Draco's departure, she thought a walk might help him settle, but Scorpius stopped at the playground. For over an hour, he sat a short distance away and watched the other children play. Hermione thought the entire trip a failure until he asked to return, signing the request with hope in his eyes.

Hermione made the proper arrangements.

The next two visits he circled each apparatus as though inspecting it, but yesterday he sat on the swing, held the chains, and looked up at Hermione to push.

Please.

Hermione pushed him, though not high enough to lose sight of the ground.

But it turned out Scorpius wasn't afraid of flying.

The higher he went, the harder he laughed.

"No," Hermione replied with the memory of small cheeks stained with exhilaration. "My involvement with Scorpius has little to do with my silence."

Scorpius was her calm in the middle of a storm.

"I'm thinking about the changing seasons." Hermione rested her elbows on the top of the swing with a small sigh. "Not too long ago, everything was green. Now I can't help but see the leaves changing colours. It's strange never knowing what triggers the first one to turn. By the time I notice, it's already too late."

"Why does it matter? Leaves will always turn in autumn. It is nature." Narcissa was staring off in the distance with her hands clasped on her lap. "Nature follows its own whims and cues, which have little to do with your preferences or your desire to witness the moment."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to understand."

"There is when your quest for knowledge distracts you from being able to appreciate the beauty."

"That's quite sentimental of you."

"It is not." Narcissa lowered her voice to something close to a whisper. "It is the product of my increasing awareness."

In a move that was oddly relaxed and casual, Narcissa rested her elbow on the arm of the swing.

"Perhaps my sister and Draco are right. I should collect memories instead of holding on. Things I want to relive. Moments I don't want to forget."

"Why wouldn't you want to preserve your memories?"

"It is easy to become too attached and forget to make new ones."

Hermione instantly thought of Theo and the memories he carried. The silence that followed was new but not unfamiliar. Much like their time in the field, Hermione had a similar feeling of thoughtful stillness and existence in the moment of their own creation.

"Will you have dinner with Scorpius tonight despite Draco's absence?"

The stab of defensive unease made her straighten from her relaxed position, mouth and mind ready to argue, but Hermione stopped, knowing the importance of maintaining a level head. Narcissa was always testing her, even in times of peace, just waiting for what she could suss out in the heat of the moment.

"I plan to." Her response was overly careful. "How did you—"

"I pay attention to these things and know more than I will speak on." Her eyes slid over to Hermione. "At least until the time is right."

There was no need to read between any lines when it was spelled out so clearly.

"However." Narcissa finally looked at her. "I am working to improve my relationship with Draco. As of late, I recognise that stating my opinions about his involvement in the restoration or asking questions about you will not achieve that goal."

"Then why bring it up?"

"I promised not to meddle or pry, but I am still his mother. I am still protective of him. I worry. I have quieted my wishes and opinions about his refusal to consider remarriage to someone suitable at this time, but they persist."

Suitable.

Hermione bristled.

"If you have questions for him concerning me, you could ask me instead."

"I could." Narcissa stood and picked up her gloves. The soft sunlight caught her at the perfect angle when she cast a look over at Hermione. "But you do not yet know the answer and it is nearly time for my therapy appointment. Mr Gates shares your appreciation for punctuality."

She led the way to the cottage and Hermione fell in step beside her, still shaking off the comment all while knowing the conversation they were building to. Ready or not, it seemed inevitable.

"How is occupational therapy going with Mr Gates?"

The perfect opportunity for a necessary subject change.

"I am certain you have read his notes."

She had.

Thrice.

Hermione was still reviewing the ones that had just arrived following their most recent meeting, which had gone just as well as the others.

The care plan developed by the therapist only cemented her opinion that they should have been involved all along. Simple things she hadn't considered were now being implemented; altering the clocks to add the date, improving the lighting in the home, labelling the doors after Narcissa confessed to forgetting where rooms were, memory and orientation strategies.

They discussed Hermione's course of care thus far in extreme detail, with her laying out the plan for the potion and making tweaks to what she had already established. As a Squib who understood the luxury of magic, Mr Gates liked the idea of incorporating magic into his care, and they exchanged information with a schedule to meet monthly and discuss goals.

Body. Mind. Emotions. Quality of life.

Four areas they would work together to improve.

"I want to know your thoughts on all of these changes," Hermione said. "It's most important to me that you're comfortable."

"I am." Narcissa fell silent. "I will not say it is or will be easy. Nothing is."

Hermione opened the door with a wave of her hand, gesturing for the older witch to lead the way. She thought Narcissa would continue through the conservatory on her way out, but something caught her eye.

Something Narcissa hadn't noticed on their way outside.

The rose had not died.

A sign that it would take root over winter.

"Red gallicas. They remind me of…" Narcissa loomed closer, attention zeroed in. "I-I can't remember."

"They're from the Manor's rose garden."

She heard Narcissa's small intake of breath.

"You've been there?"

"Once. With Draco."

"He went there?" Her voice was but a whisper, her skin pale—she looked stricken for a moment before her attention returned to the plant. "I never thought he would return."

"We needed plants from the greenhouse to brew your experimental potion."

"Oh." She placed a hand on her chest. "And the rest of the roses? How are they?"

"Overgrown and wild. They thrive in spite of the chaos."

Hermione could feel the weight on her shoulders, the emotions she would never admit to feeling.

"The Apothecary's Rose." Narcissa suddenly kneeled before the potted plant. "Grown for its medicinal properties. It will spread and outgrow this container. I am unsurprised you recognised its benefits."

"I didn't." Hermione watched Narcissa touch the new growth with careful fingers. "I picked it for you."

Narcissa's head turned quickly.

"Me?" The concept appeared foreign. "You and I, we—"

"We agree on very little, have clashed since our first conversation, but I respect our differences, however frustrating they may be." Hermione settled next to her, resting a hand over where hers was splayed on her jeans. "You might not think of me in the highest of regards, we might not ever see eye-to-eye, but I think we're good at sitting side-by-side."

The joining was evident when Narcissa flipped her hand over and held Hermione's tight.

"Perhaps we can, Miss Granger." Her voice was soft, eyes still on the rose. "Thank you for this."

But there was no gratitude needed.

"I thought you might want a piece of home."

---

September 14, 2011

A mother's intuition.

It was a sixth sense of sorts that made it so Ginny didn't have to look up from choosing a bottle of wine to yell for James to stop trying to creep to the game room and go back to bed.

Hermione hadn't heard any noises or creaking floorboards and was about to laugh and comment on her friend's paranoia when she heard a whispered apology from the top of the steps.

Smothering her laughter into her fist, she tried to disguise it as a delicate cough.

Ginny wasn't fooled.

She never was.

The Potter's new home was on a quiet street in Richmond where there were lots of families with children. Ginny wanted a location with activities for the children close to home and Harry wanted modest. The home they chose was a nice compromise—similar to their last home, but with more space and nicer amenities, which included a larger kitchen.

They took advantage of it that night when Hermione visited with Scorpius.

Knowing Ginny had her hands full in Harry's absence, she brought over ingredients needed to make pizza with the kids.

To give her a break.

With dinner consumed, dishes washed, and games played, Hermione read bedtime stories for Al, Scorpius, and Lily while James watched a show on the telly before being shooed to bed.

If she were being honest, Hermione was tired from a day of work with Narcissa, preparing for a volunteer project, and spending time with four energetic children.

She was ready for whatever wine Ginny chose.

Whenever that happened.

"You're surprisingly indecisive tonight." Hermione eyed her friend.

"I'm not indecisive, I'm just trying to remember which one has the highest alcohol content. If you hadn't come over, I would've ended the night with firewhisky and nature shows."

Odd. Ginny watched the telly least of anyone she knew. It had taken years for Harry to convince her to let them have one.

"Since when do you—"

"Harry can't sleep without someone narrating about nature and I struggle to sleep when he's not here." Ginny ran a hand through her hair. "I hate sleeping alone, so it helps."

Which was the basis of Hermione's visit.

She would always worry, regardless of how long Harry was gone.

The stories coming out about the attacks and arrests in the papers had put Ginny on edge.

Hermione was, too, but she had the luxury of not looking at the paper each day.

Ginny did not.

The kids were also asking when he would return home whenever he had a moment to Floo call.

In the end, she was just like anyone else with someone out in the field.

Waiting.

Hermione did so quietly and by herself as she witnessed another family's wait.

Scorpius and Narcissa.

She had been worried about the separation anxiety of the former, but Draco wrote in their two-way journal every morning and night, and Hermione started each day with a note he carried, keeping things as normal as possible. Draco also spoke to his mother briefly twice. Or at least that was what she'd been able to gather from Narcissa.

Draco hadn't contacted her at all.

Hermione had spent the last week at the bottom of the well of psychoanalysis where she mulled and overanalysed every little thing until she arrived at multiple unconnected solutions, then replayed every moment before Draco left and rationalised it further.

She categorised and organised every second.

Every word exchanged.

Every touch.

What happened at the party.

What happened after.

Hermione spent days planning what she was going to say to him to express her irritation at his silence. She wrote it down, threw it in the rubbish, and started again. Over and over until she got it right.

Or not.

There was still a blank page at home.

Not that it stopped Hermione from trying to bury it deep, ready to blame it on dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin with her own stupidity sprinkled in for good measure.

But there was a hitch in her plan.

Something Hermione hadn't been able to put into a neat box.

Their last kiss.

The one that made the least sense was also the one that carried her through his absence and lack of—

"Are you okay?" Ginny, who was now seated across from her, poured them both a glass of Port.

She was still regarding Hermione with a pinched expression when she took her first sip. It was sweet and rich and would do the trick.

"You seem tense."

Hermione chuckled. "I probably need this glass of wine as much as you do."

They both laughed and clinked their glasses together before Ginny grabbed the bottle and led the way into the living room where they kicked off their shoes, sat with their legs folded on the sofa, and drank wine.

Not many words passed between them but Hermione found herself glad that Ginny hadn't turned on the telly. Silence was companionable; it was the sort that could only be found after years of trust and friendship. When they did talk, it was about distracting topics like a piece she was working on, how annoying her editor was, and gossip from Parvati. Nothing about Harry or her worries for him.

"How's Pansy?" Ginny poured herself a second glass. "Percy's been quiet about her and what's happening with them, but I do know he hasn't been back to his flat."

"That's more news than I know." Hermione held out her glass for more. "Daphne told me she's seeing her therapist more frequently. Knowing Percy, he's not the sort to hover so if he's at her flat it's only because she wants him there."

Which was promising.

"And you?" Ginny settled back on the sofa. "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

The redhead squinted.

"Okay." She ran a hand over her face, ready to be honest and hoping the wine would warm her to the idea. "I've been busy getting Narcissa adjusted to the Occupational Therapist and readying the garden for autumn and winter. I found a sign language tutor, too, and I've been attending the classes."

She had also been working on Narcissa's case study with Roger and gardening with Narcissa, Scorpius, and occasionally Andromeda, who was missing Teddy now that he was back at Hogwarts.

It was a good way to pass the time.

After their delivery tomorrow, however, Hermione would need a new way to occupy her thoughts.

"I think I'll bring over biscuits tomorrow."

Ginny cocked a brow then narrowed both eyes suspiciously. "Why are you baking?"

"Employee Appreciation Week. I made loads of toffee biscuits today and may have extras. Or perhaps I'll invite you all over to make a batch with the kids. Scorpius would like that."

"They will love that. James wants to learn sign language now too so I guess that's his way of saying he approves of Scorpius." They both smiled. "Maybe we can take them apple picking this weekend."

"I know a place not too far. Draco—"

"Finally!" Ginny's outburst startled Hermione so badly she jolted and nearly spilled her wine. "I've been waiting this entire time for you to say his name. Seriously. Eleven bloody days."

Hermione didn't know how to react and opted for not reacting at all. She took a drink, waiting for Ginny to continue on, only to realise her sneaky friend was going to wait her out.

Until she had no more wine left to distract her with.

Which was precisely what happened.

"I should get—"

Ginny picked up the bottle and gave her a very familiar smirk. "More wine?"

"Are you trying to get me pissed?"

"If that'll get you to talk about how you shagged Malfoy at the party, sure."

Hermione froze and felt herself flush, squeezing the glass so hard she was surprised it didn't shatter in her hand.

Truly at a loss for words, she scrambled to grasp any excuse she could.

"I uhh—"

"Nobody knows except Padma and I."

Only a mild relief.

Ginny's wince made it clear she could see her approaching mental breakdown.

"Before you implode, hear me out." Ginny placed a hand on her shoulder. "Padma was looking for you, but when she heard the sounds, she immediately threw up a Muffliato and stood guard. I came back from bringing clothes to Percy, and the only reason she told me was because I poked until she confessed why she was randomly standing at the end of the hall."

"Oh gods." Hermione heard the shrill edge in her own voice. "This is not helping!"

"It's fine." She flashed an encouraging smile. "I took watch while she corralled everyone into the dining room. I ended the charm once we were certain everyone was there and you both turned up late with your practised apologies. Nicely done, by the way, arriving in separate doors with different excuses."

Hermione knew she was beet red. She could feel the heat of mortification burning her cheeks and twisting her stomach.

"I only brought it up because you've been tense." Ginny scooted closer. "Thought you might want someone to talk to."

"I—" She paused. "Okay, I probably do. My therapist."

Ginny barked out a laugh.

"I'm horrified."

"That it happened or that someone overheard?" Ginny filled up Hermione's glass. "I mean, you both were sort of out in the open…"

"Not really sure what came over me. I don't regret it, but it was…" Hermione exhaled a puff of air, unable to find the words she'd been mentally searching for ever since.

"That good?"

She blushed harder, nodding. "I'm nearly thirty-two and I've been reduced to an irresponsible teenager who had to take an emergency contraceptive potion after a frantic shag in a decorative chair."

"A bloody fantastic one from the sound of it."

"Ginny!"

"What?" She bumped her shoulder. "I'm proud of you being impulsive for once. It's a good look. Perhaps you should consider getting on the monthly potion."

"I am. I started last week." Hermione looked around before confessing. "Also it wasn't as impulsive as you might think. Draco's been courting me since July."

"I know. Harry told me at the party when I asked after you two left to walk the maze." Of course he did. "He was suspicious at the joke shop but told me you all talked last week. I was suspicious at the reunion dinner."

"Nothing was happening then."

Which led to Hermione detailing the entire story of how they went from snogging at Solstice to shagging at Pansy's party.

The fight. The apologies. The shift and change. The conversations that led to her taking Draco's hand and starting all this.

By the time she got to their walks and their trick first date, they had both given up the pretence of glasses and passed the bottle back and forth.

Ginny's reactions were entertaining.

Her eyes got wider and wider the more Hermione talked. She laughed and made little impressed faces, particularly when she told the complete story of what happened after leaving her parents' house. When Hermione finished detailing the morning he left, the bottle was empty and they were tipsy with the threat of becoming incredibly pissed.

"All that and you still seem hesitant? I guess I can understand a piece of it. Scorpius."

"The stakes are high, not only with Scorpius but with us as well. I've been slow about this."

"But he's said he's patient."

"Patience isn't infinite and I can't expect his to be. I've seen it run thin. I'm aware that I'm not easy to be with. I wouldn't begin to know how to not be complicated. This is who I am." Hermione shook her head. "Ron's catch phrase with me was 'If you weren't so…'"

Stubborn. Ambitious. Single-minded. Difficult. Independent.

"My brother doesn't always say the best things in the heat of the moment. You know this, but I also think you carry insecurities you need to let go of. Fears you won't admit to. The progression of your relationship is bigger than just the two of you. When the time comes, you need to weigh your options, but I think right now, just—"

"I haven't talked to him since he left. No notes or owls or Floo calls or anything."

In spite of her irritation with the silence from his end, she still missed Draco in the oddest of moments. While watering the new plants she'd bought for his terrarium. While reading bedtime stories to his son or walking him to lessons. While making breakfast she'd accidentally look over and expect him to be there.

It was bizarre; it had only been ten days, but his absence showed Hermione just how involved he was in her daily life.

"Have you reached out?"

"Sort of…" The sharpness of Ginny's glare made her a little more honest. "Okay, not really. I peek at his notes to Scorpius when they appear. I-I don't know what to say. I just thought he would… I don't know? I thought he might reach out. I'm sort of limited in ways to contact him without looking like a stalker."

"I'd tell you not to overthink it but I'm too late. Maybe he wants y—"

The Floo interrupted their conversation and out stepped a tired and dishevelled Harry carrying a black bag. He lit up the moment his eyes fell on Ginny, who all but sprang to her feet while the wine bottle teetered dangerously close to the edge of the table.

It didn't matter.

She abandoned everything to kiss then hug her husband just as tight as he held on to her.

Peace found in his favourite place in the world.

Home.

Hermione looked on with a smile, happy for her friends—their journey hadn't been easy.

After hugging Harry, Ginny went to fetch him a drink while Hermione took the armchair so they could have the entire sofa to themselves.

"How long have you been back?"

"Long enough to turn over evidence and hand my reports to Hestia. Things are relatively under control, evidence gathered and brought to the Ministry for analysis. There was nothing left for us to do."

"Are you going in tomorrow?"

"Have to finish paperwork but not all day. Malfoy and I are going to work on it together to cut the time down."

"Oh, he's back as well?"

Hermione tried not to seem too interested, but her stupid pulse was racing.

"Uh, yes."

"Good. Scorpius will be thrilled."

Harry's eyes were just beginning to squint when Ginny returned with a beer she had already opened for him.

Hermione stood. "I'll let you both enjoy the quiet night. Will you bring Scorpius by in the morning?"

"Of course."

It took every bit of her willpower to go home, but she did.

---

September 15, 2011

Hermione was too jittery to sleep.

There was much to do and she completed every task—as well cleaning her kitchen and scrubbing out Tank—all before five in the morning.

But a heady mix of nerves and anxiety swirled around inside of her like a fog, distracting her during each task and robbing her of the peace of mind she often found in the silence of morning.

It made her hesitant.

Uneasy.

She stood in front of the Floo with her bag packed and a handful of Floo powder.

But all she could do was stand still.

It was irrational, but feelings never answered to reason.

Well.

Recently, very few things answered to reason.

A gap in her knowledge gnawed at the corners of her mind, whispering about her stress regarding a potential interaction with someone who had shagged her yet hadn't bothered to contact her for almost two weeks.

Which wasn't fair.

His work was as dangerous as his time had been limited, and he'd divided it accordingly between his mother and son.

As he should have.

Shaking off her trepidation and standing up straighter, Hermione took a deep breath and scolded herself for being anxious.

They were adults, after all. They could have a discussion.

With that in mind, she stepped into the Floo and called out her destination.

The Malfoys' home was quiet, but signs of life were present where it had been cold and sterile before. It was dark, the room was comfortable, and the mostly-straight cactus still sat on its table by the window. Scorpius had left his parchment and markers on the coffee table; the evidence of Albus' last drawing—a pumpkin with a smile—was still on the pages. The blanket from his father's office was folded and draped over the back of the sofa. She turned to the kitchen and—

It was empty.

Hermione's shoulders sank.

Now she felt even more ridiculous for delaying her arrival.

With a shake of her head, she placed her bag on the island and started breakfast. Scorpius would likely eat at Harry and Ginny's, and Narcissa needed something hardy for her busy day ahead. Hermione made a vegetable omelette, chopped fruit, and had everything under a stasis charm.

"Good morning."

Hermione froze at the sound of Draco's voice, eyes widening as her breath caught in her throat. After clearing her throat twice, she forced herself to relax before lifting her eyes to the man still standing in the archway.

"Welcome back."

She most certainly didn't watch him approach and she pushed aside the irritating twinge of nerves in order to start water for tea. When Hermione turned around, Draco was standing directly across from her, brow lifted over the rim of his glasses. He'd brought his usual items: crossword book, pen, and the Prophet, and sat each down in a line.

But Draco didn't sit.

"Have you had tea?"

"No." Hermione splayed her hands on the cool island. "But I can—"

"I'll make it."

Draco proceeded to do just that while she plated her meal.

"Are you hungry?"

"I had a protein drink."

"Oh." She fidgeted more, shifting from foot to foot, wanting to dispel the nervous energy before it swallowed her whole. "Scorpius will be back from Harry and Ginny's in a bit and—"

"Catherine told me when I arrived last night."

Hermione tensed at how close he sounded, despite how low he was speaking.

"Turn around, Granger."

"I'm—" She heaved a heavy breath, put down the knife and did as she was told.

Which was a mistake.

Standing before Draco alone in the kitchen with the memory and his proximity blurring together made her heart race. Hermione touched her exposed arm and found she had goosebumps despite the comfortable temperature of the room.

"Do you need something? The tea—"

"Is steeping." His voice was probing in a way. Uneasy in others. Tentative masked in calm. "How have you been?"

"Fine," Hermione said, fully aware she was about to start babbling but unable to stop. "I set stronger anti-Apparition wards in the house and your mother hasn't had any incidents since. I think infusing her necklace with magic will work. Oh! And if you want an update of her progress with occupational therapy, I can—"

"No need." Draco shook his head in bemusement. "My mother complains enough."

Hermione rubbed her arm twice before folding them across her chest, clearing her throat, and awkwardly looking everywhere except into the eyes of the man who hadn't looked away from her once.

"Um. How was your trip?"

"You already know the answer."

"I do, but I was making conversation as you didn't Floo call me once."

Draco folded his own arms and Hermione looked down at her shoes, focusing on the white scuff mark from when she'd helped Pansy paint her en suite. Then she looked at his, which were perfectly polished.

"It's not a problem, I—"

"I was giving you space." His mouth dropped slightly into a frown. "Perhaps that was an error on my part."

"Mine as well." Hermione raised her eyes to him and ran a hand through her hair, exhaling a little laugh. "I should have reached out. I'm not used to doing that."

"Neither am I." These little moments, when he was almost too honest, always surprised her. And for a second, she saw his unease. Then his resolve. "After breakfast, come to my office."

"Why?"

Draco never answered.

Hermione remained in a state of suspended animation.

While running diagnostic tests on Narcissa, she wondered what he wanted. And her eyes kept wandering to him during the entire meal. He drank two cups of tea while Scorpius happily sat between them upon his return home. Not hungry, just happy to see his dad. Narcissa prattled on about her plans, which included a visit to Andromeda's after she finished with therapy.

Time seemed to pass slower the more she focused on it so Hermione stopped.

Draco walked Scorpius to lessons, and ten minutes later, Narcissa left with Sachs and security. Zippy popped in to clean the kitchen, and Hermione stopped gathering the dishes when he glared at her. Best not to offend the house-elf.

There were no excuses left.

Hermione made the walk to his office, and as expected, Draco was waiting for her; casually leaned against the back of the sofa, he held a parchment in hand. He looked fresh out of a film and glanced up when she cleared her throat, stepped in, and shut the door behind her with a soft click.

"More plants?" His mouth quirked when he nodded in the direction of his now full terrarium.

"Um." She felt her face warm. "Your nerve plant didn't like being alone so I bought Golden Pothos, added some moss, and a starfish plant. Scorpius helped pick them out."

He'd chosen several more, but his other selections had one thing in common: they were struggling to survive. But he was insistent about his choices when the employee tried to steer them to healthier plants.

In the end, Hermione had ended up with free plants in her conservatory garden, and was working to rehab them. This time, she had a helper in Scorpius, who was good at following directions while she showed him what to do.

"He was very dedicated to the task of choosing your plants."

"I can imagine." Draco's chuckle was low, shoulders shaking slightly before he shut his book and placed it on the end table.

He didn't approach, but went to his desk and picked up something she couldn't see because she was too busy fidgeting and running a hand down her jeans until he stood in front of her.

"Here."

Curiously, she tilted her head at the bulb in his hand.

Hermione scoured her brain in search of anything. "Is this a plant I need for the potion?"

"No, it's a daylily." He rubbed his chin with his thumb. "I don't believe it serves a practical purpose outside of being bred to bloom in winter and thrive in this climate and soil condition, but I was also promised that it will be colourful."

A gift.

Hermione was speechless and a bit flummoxed, but manners regained control and she accepted the bulb with a growing smile on her face.

"Thank you." Hermione watched his face carefully. "What colour is it?"

"Plant it and find out." The low tone made his statement sound less pompous and challenging than it might have otherwise. "Consider it an early birthday gift."

Hermione put the bulb in her beaded bag and shuffled again, not knowing where the conversation was going or if it was over or—

She took a deep breath.

"I've got biscuits to gather up. I'm taking them to the employees for appreciation week and you're—"

"Working. For part of the day. Scorpius has a half day so I'm taking him to the Planetarium."

Hermione smiled at the sight Draco would make with an excited Scorpius holding his hand. In fact, he looked a bit long-suffering about the entire plan already, but his willingness to even take Scorpius out in public was admirable.

"Join us if you're not busy."

"Of course." Hermione's smile softened. "What time?"

"The show starts at eight, but I'm taking him to dinner."

"He'll be grouchy if he doesn't eat."

Draco nodded, looking faintly amused before sobering. "Perhaps after he goes to bed, we can have our overdue talk."

"Oh?" Hermione blinked. "Yes, we do need to talk. I'll just meet you here at five?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Which sounded like the true end of the conversation. "Well—"

"Just one more thing."

There was no fanfare or any other words, just his lips pressing against hers.

It felt like a greeting.

His actual greeting. The thought was no less disarming than her instinct-driven response to kiss him back. Far from their first but still new, even with different context. It was easy to have a simple moment, thrilling to relish in the new sensation of a hand against her neck and the heady rush and spark of connection.

Hermione's eyes slipped shut.

Warm. Slow.

Comforting.

And then Draco stepped into the kiss, moulding her against him, and deepening it with no real push for more. Hermione relaxed further. The patience in his kiss made a sharp fluttering grow as she unclenched her fists and wrapped her arms around him. She pulled back to catch her breath.

Honesty escaped her in an impulsive rush, with her eyes shut and her pulse racing.

"I missed you."

She opened her eyes only to find Draco's on her, heavy with a hint of surprise.

One of them moved first.

Her?

Him?

It didn't matter.

Draco had her back against the wall and her jeans around her knees before she could gasp his name.

Well past hungry, they were starved for each other, devouring one another in a desperate frenzy.

Hands everywhere. Fingers digging in with urgency.

Hermione blindly went for his belt, loosening and unbuttoning his trousers with shaky, clumsy fingers, and tugging them down while kicking one leg from her jeans. Draco ripped her shirt over her head, tossed it somewhere, and lifted her leg, slotting his hips against hers. One hand gripped her arse as the other flattened against the wall. His hardening cock pressed deliciously tight against her damp knickers.

She ground against him and Draco hissed.

"Fuck, Granger. Let me—"

"Emergency security meeting in five minutes. Why aren't you here?"

They both froze at Harry's voice in the fireplace.

"Fuck off, Potter." Draco sounded both strained and ready to put his fist through the wall.

Or Harry's face.

Hermione smothered her shocked laugh in the crook of his neck.

"I'm ignoring your insult, you fucking prat. There's been Death Eater sightings in the city."

The news was sobering.

"I'll be there in a minute."

They both rushed back into their clothes and Hermione healed the mark on his jaw she hadn't realised she made until just then.

Draco kissed her one last time before he disappeared in a blaze of green.

---

Hours had passed by the time Hermione finished packing biscuits after making three more batches at the last minute. She was nearly finished loading everything into a bag with an extendable charm when Scorpius wandered into the kitchen. He had changed out of his uniform into another one of his ensembles and a different bowtie.

He signed a quick greeting.

"Done for the day?" It was after eleven.

Scorpius nodded with a dimpled smile that showed his tooth coming in.

Catherine joined them not long after, eyeing the bag. "Where are you off to?"

"The hospital. It's Employee Appreciation Week and I made toffee biscuits." She lifted one of the packaged biscuits. "I'm going to deliver them to all the break areas and offices. Then I'm going for a quick meeting with Theo." Hermione gestured to the two plates on the countertop. "Lunch is already made."

Scorpius looked at Catherine then back at her before signing, May I come?

Hermione considered the positives and negatives.

On one hand, she would make certain not to expose Scorpius to all parts of the hospital, but on the other, she was concerned about what he would see and the effect it would have on him.

It wasn't her place to shield him from the fragility of life, but it wasn't her place to expose him to it either.

Maybe a quick call to Draco's office would sort out permission and a conversation would sort out Scorpius.

So she did both.

Her discussion with Draco ended with a quick, "Use your discretion."

He was busy.

The following conversation with a wide-eyed Scorpius was a little more gentle.

"It may seem a little scary, but Healers, Mediwitches, and other hospital workers are there to make people who are sick or hurt feel better. Today we're going to give all the workers biscuits to say—"

"Thank you?"

Hermione nodded, that familiar swell of affection at hearing his quiet voice refused to be tamed.

She straightened his bowtie.

"Yes, we're going to say thank you. If you're ready to leave, just squeeze my hand and I'll bring you home."

But there was a familiar, determined look in his eyes when he signed, Help. Like you.

It grew. Those emotions. Her smile both widened and softened.

"Okay, you can help like me."

They started in the lobby, with Scorpius handing wrapped biscuits to the immediately enamoured Welcome Witch, who did everything except coo at him.

Before Hermione could redirect him to the lift, the little boy had taken another package from the bag and handed it to an elderly man waiting by himself in the corner, who accepted the gift graciously.

It snowballed from there, with Hermione watching after Scorpius, who was quite generously handing out toffee biscuits to everyone in the waiting area. The gesture was as sweet as the smile on his face was bashful; the tint of his cheeks turned rosy when thanked.

Hermione was glad she'd made extras.

"He has a good heart," the Welcome Witch said as they watched him hand biscuits to another child a few years older than himself—who had a pair of antlers Scorpius didn't even blink at. "You should be proud to be his mum."

"Oh, I'm not his mother."

Scorpius began his short journey back to her side once his task was completed.

"But I know she would be proud."

Hermione's own words followed her through each stop they made, with blue eyes looking at her eagerly until she nodded her permission for him to hand out biscuits to every person they saw. Given the time of day, there weren't many, but the gesture was sweet.

Watching a boy who shied away from people he knew give out biscuits to strangers made her sentiment for him swell.

It wasn't about love or that Hermione did so fiercely, but rather about how she continued to learn facets of the word as it pertained to Scorpius. In different moments. At different times. No, he wasn't hers by blood, but six months of knowing and caring for him, watching him grow and learn, had changed her forever.

She would go through the highs and lows all over again just to be right where she was: running out of biscuits while being pulled along by a little boy too generous for words.

As predicted, they had none left when they reached Theo's office, but Scorpius had saved a biscuit for him, presenting it to his generally stoic godfather while standing at his side.

"Thank you." Theo signed as he spoke and his smile grew when Scorpius signed, you're welcome back before approaching the bookshelf. He craned his head up to look at it fully as his mouth dropped open in awe.

Hermione took her wand out to cast a feather-light charm on any book he picked.

"Impromptu visit?"

"Bringing biscuits for Employee Appreciation Week, though we ran out. Scorpius shared."

The little boy grinned brightly. Not hiding despite the fact that Theo could easily look over his shoulder and see him.

"He's quite proud of himself."

"Draco told me he was taking a half day."

"He is, but there was a Death Eater sighting this morning so I'm not certain if he'll get a chance."

Theo went into his desk while Hermione cast the charm on the enormous book Scorpius was eyeing. Choice in hand, he settled on the chair next to her, feet adorably dangling as he opened up a book on poisonous plants that she was glad he didn't fully understand. He must have been drawn to the colourful wild mushrooms on the page.

Scorpius looked at her expectantly.

A beat passed before she realised what he wanted. Digging into her beaded bag, she grabbed Scorpius the charmed earmuffs, which he put on happily.

"Earmuffs?" Theo looked confused.

"They block out sound and play music. I created them so he wouldn't be able to hear every conversation or get overwhelmed in large spaces. He likes them." At the perfect moment, Scorpius bobbed his head to whatever was playing and flipped to the next page. "Poisoning book?"

"Forgive me for not having child-friendly literature in my office."

They both laughed.

"How have you been?" Hermione was genuinely curious. Neither of them had approached the topic of their last conversation in this very office.

"Working through some things." It was more of an answer than she had expected. "Where are you and Draco on creating the potion?"

"Testing the bases. We plan to do more with it now that he's back." Hermione crossed her legs. "Neville told me that the Silphion plant isn't budding yet, but that it might be too soon or it might be out of season so we're just going to be patient. Draco and I—"

"Make quite the team." Theo's expression was a familiar neutrality.

Hermione squinted. "This is a trap."

"No, I'm merely stating the obvious: you're working with Narcissa's potion and care, as well as with the restoration efforts. Furthermore, you've been helping him with Scorpius, who is thriving. I hear Draco is putting him in school with Harry's son."

"He is, but that's a decision he made on his own."

Theo was poised to say more but there was a knock on his door. When he waved the door open everyone, save Scorpius, turned to the person standing in the doorway.

Susan.

"We have a situation."

---

Twenty wizards. All males of differing ages with indistinguishable features.

All found unconscious but alive in a park near Little Whinging after Aurors were called to the scene.

A scene they were still investigating.

None had identification and were cold to the touch, which was where the similarities stopped and the differences began. Different clothing and appearances. Hermione was more than willing to leave it to the Aurors when they arrived but there was one issue:

None of them could be revived.

Susan had tried everything before calling for Theo—and by extension, Hermione. Theo stayed behind in his office with Scorpius, who she'd supplied with snacks and a juice box, along with his parchment to draw with Albus and some other books she'd forgotten she had.

Theo's amusement grew with each item she'd laid on his desk, especially the wipes.

For his hands.

He didn't like to get them dirty and cleaning charms weren't enough.

Truly couldn't be helped.

Besides, Scorpius really was grouchy when he was hungry, and from how things were going, it might be a while. Not that Hermione knew that when she left him.

By the time Hermione arrived in the hall where the bodies were lined in two rows, there were eight other Healers, including Padma, gathered together talking about the strange case but not coming up with any solutions.

Which led to them dividing into teams of two, changing into coverall robes with Bubble-Head Charms, and taking each patient into a room.

It was better than keeping them out in the open.

Hermione paired up with Padma, and with a frown marring her face, she watched as each diagnostic charm resulted in identical readings for both patients.

"Padma, I'm—"

"Suspicious as hell?" Her voice sounded muffled from inside the Bubble-Head Charm. "Me too. Only… I don't know of what exactly."

"Has anyone checked for the presence of poisons or stunning?"

"No poisons registered on any magical testing. No evidence of stunning."

"What about Muggle testing?"

Padma's eyes lit up. "I hadn't thought about that."

"I'm not sure where to start." Hermione scrambled to think. "We'd have to ask a Healer from Poisonings. It's been a long time since I've worked there, but they do more blood work than any other department and they have connections with Muggle labs and contract Toxicologists."

"It's a good place to start."

"Let me get Scorpius home and I'll come back to help." At Padma's raised eyebrow, Hermione smiled. "He came with me to hand out toffee biscuits for Employee Appreciation Week. "

"Ah, so he's the little boy handing out biscuits." Padma smiled fondly. "A few of my patients came in with them. They were all in good moods today. I think that's why Group Therapy went so well. They revel in little moments when they're treated like people."

"That's because they are people. They just have Lycanthropy."

"I know that, you know that, and Scorpius is too little to distinguish, but they still carry the weight of prejudice, fear, and self-loathing where they question their own humanity. The law only protects as far as it can see—and weakly at best in their case. So it's nice when someone doesn't look at them like they're monsters."

The two women exchanged looks before Padma went to check the other patient.

Hermione waited until she was in the hall to shed her protective gear and make the trip back to Theo's office, stopping quickly by the open door where Susan and her partner were talking while looking over their own parchment.

She quickly stepped in to have a look at their results and found them to be identical.

Obviously, whatever happened to one, happened to them all.

"If they all wake suddenly, we might have confusion. We should call for security."

Both Healers nodded and the other excused himself to make that happen.

When he was gone, Susan turned to Hermione.

"Do your two have the same light marks on their fingertips?" She showed them both. "Looks like—"

Familiar to the ones on Mrs Weasley. And Mathers.

"They've all been poisoned, but—" It wasn't right. They weren't convulsing or bleeding. She needed time to think. "I'll be back. Padma's across the hall if you need anything."

Hermione used the walk back to Theo's office to mull it all over.

If they weren't poisoned or stunned in a way that could be magically detected, their identical results didn't make much sense. But if they were, and it was somehow hidden from the tests, it would be a little more plausible. But their fingers, the burn marks—that didn't add up.

Walking into Theo's office before knocking afforded Hermione the rare opportunity to see the man himself in his true form.

Hospital owner and current coloured marker holder.

Scorpius, still wearing his headphones, was in the midst of picking the green one from Theo's hand when she cleared her throat.

"He ate all the snacks." Theo sounded very amused. "But I think he's still hungry."

Scorpius, upon noticing his mouth moving, turned his head and smiled at Hermione, then nodded when she signed for him to start packing up. Hermione helped him put everything into her beaded bag.

"Keep your Floo open, I'm coming right back."

"The situation?"

"Strange. Twenty patients, unconscious and possibly poisoned, but with the burns on their fingers we've seen before. It's… odd. All the patients I've witnessed with those marks were convulsing less than an hour after contact."

"Unless they've somehow changed the components of the poison itself." Theo ran a hand through his hair, mouth turned, deep in concentration. "We know a less potent version exists, the possibility of a stronger one or one that lies dormant after contact is theoretically plausible."

"True."

"I'll call the Aurors." Theo was already on his feet which made Scorpius frown. "Were any of you in contact?"

"Everyone is in protective gear with Bubble-Head Charms. As far as I know, you have to come in direct contact with it in order to get it."

"The burns are already on their fingers. Unlikely, unless—"

Alarms sounded and the lights in the room dimmed.

Theo sprang into action, opening his desk drawer to find his wand.

"Influx of patients?"

Chaos answered her question with an explosion strong enough to send her sprawling, but instead it put her into suspended animation, instinctively grabbing the startled Scorpius' chair to stop him from toppling over. Then she grabbed him. The floor was still shaking in the aftermath as she dragged him under the desk. Theo pushed back his chair and dropped to his knees.

Disoriented silence followed.

Speechless. Eyes wide open. Ears ringing.

Hermione stared at Theo and calculated a thousand possibilities.

"Are you both okay?"

"Yes."

The second blast was stronger, shaking violently with the force of an earthquake.

Hermione held Scorpius tightly, cradling his head to her chest as the floor trembled so hard she could feel it in her bones.

Bookshelves toppled over, raining books beside Theo.

The sound of shattering glass was loud in her ears. Sculptures, pictures, and paintings fell on the floor.

Lights flickered on and off.

Scorpius' shaking breaths filled the air as he clung to her.

And then the screaming started. Some shrilled. Others cut off suddenly.

Everything was muffled by Theo's shut door, but soon the sound reached them.

Fighting.

Explosions.

A faint howl.

Hermione's heart stopped.

No.

They emerged from under the desk and looked at each other then Scorpius.

Draco's greatest fear was coming true.

As was hers.

"We need to get him out."

"You as well, I—"

"Are you mad?" Hermione couldn't even entertain the notion of leaving. "I've been all over the floor. Greyback can smell me. He'll tear everyone apart just to get to me."

Theo ripped open his drawer and pulled out what looked like powdered aconite. "And what about after he does? He'll tear you apart."

"I can't hide while—"

"This isn't about hiding, it's about staying alive." Theo sent off several emergency Patronus messages. "Security wards have been activated and that's hospital protocol. No way in or out. Floos don't work. Lifts don't work. We're trapped on this floor. Nobody in or out."

Absolutely not an option. "What about—"

Nobody in.

Or out.

No human.

"Zippy."

He'd been able to appear in Draco's office and bypass the Ministry's anti-Apparition wards. He couldn't take her, as she was not tied to the family, but her priority was Scorpius.

Theo blinked for a second then realisation dawned. "You're a genius."

Hermione dropped to her knees before a panicked Scorpius. His eyes were wide, mouth open and panting out desperate little breaths, unable to hear but knowing something was terribly wrong. Hermione called for the elf and sagged with relief the moment Zippy materialised.

"Yes, Miss Granger."

"The hospital is under attack." The crashing sound outside was violent and horrid—metal scraping against rocks. Her ears were ringing and the room was still shaking. "Take Scorpius and send word of his location to his father immediately. Security needs to bring Narcissa home and lock down the house. Nobody in or out that isn't Draco."

The elf nodded obediently, but there was one problem: Scorpius wouldn't let go.

He refused.

Bursting into heaving, distressed sobs, he let Hermione pry his arms from around her. She tried not to jolt when the door shook in its frame.

They were losing time.

Theo said her name while keeping a mindful eye and wand trained on the door.

"I know!"

She didn't want to take his earmuffs off, and wanted even less to expose him to what was trying to force its way in, but Hermione had to in order to reach him. Another explosion thundered as soon as she pulled the earmuffs off, followed by more distant screams, but Hermione cupped his red cheeks, and made him look at her through the shock of rattling walls.

"Scorpius." Somehow she kept her voice completely calm. "I need you to go with Zippy."

He shook his head. The sob that tore its way out was bigger than him.

The door shook again. She grabbed his hands and held them.

"It's okay, it's going to be okay, but I need to keep you safe."

Tears continued falling, and an utterly heartbreaking plea, a single word, slipped from his lips.

"Mum."

It hit her like a physical blow.

All she could do was hug him close. "You're brave. Like the scorpion you're named for. Remember?"

Scorpius nodded against her neck while Hermione waved Zippy over, pulling back to focus on the little boy who couldn't stop sobbing.

Hermione pressed her lips to his forehead in a moment of comfort for them both and closed her eyes. Impulsively, she reached into his pockets and took all but one of his letters before forcing herself to shift away.

To let him go.

"Take him."

Scorpius was still reaching for her when he and Zippy vanished from sight.

The door to Theo's office gave no additional warning before shattering into pieces.

Hermione scrambled out of the way of the debris.

Momentarily dazed, she stuffed the notes in her pocket and held her breath.

The footsteps closed in.

Voices.

She looked to Theo, who silently counted down from five.

Four.

Hermione's hand tightened around her wand.

Three.

Sharp inhale. Slow exhale. She forced her muscles to relax.

Two.

Don't panic.

She saw feet in her peripheral and sprang into action before the final count.

"Stupefy!"

A body dropped to the floor.

Theo quickly threw the second body out of the hole where the door used to be. It hit the wall and landed in the rubble of their own creation.

He didn't move.

There was no time for words or orders. Hermione rolled the wizard over while Theo covered her.

The man's face wasn't familiar, but his clothes were.

One of the unconscious patients.

Now with a mark on his arm that hadn't been there before.

A Death Eater.

"Theo, check the other man's arm. Dark Mark?"

"Yes."

Padma. Susan. The entire team was left alone with Death Eaters disguised as patients.

"We can bind them, but it might not hold them long enough."

An idea struck like a bolt of lightning. Hermione quickly dug into her pocket and pulled out a letter, shoving it into the robe of the stunned Death Eater. And then she did the same to the wizard Theo was binding.

"Bread crumbs." She looked down the corridor covered in debris. "You need to take down the security wards as quickly as possible. It's the only way the Aurors can get in."

Hermione took off running.

"Where are you going?" Theo shouted after her.

"Take down the wards!"

The next corridor looked like the aftermath of a tornado.

Debris was everywhere. Hermione quickly ran to the only body she saw. A Mediwitch. She revived the injured witch and healed her wounds with the commotion nearby as a backdrop.

The witch was terrified.

"W-what are we supposed to do? We sealed all the patients in their rooms."

This witch wasn't a fighter.

"Barricade yourself in an empty room and don't move."

Each step Hermione took towards the fight replaced the preceding feelings of chaos with an eerie calm, which was then obliterated by a red stunner whizzing past her head.

Hermione threw herself against the wall, counting to three before swallowing her nerves and channeling the frenetic energy into her task. She peeked around the corner.

Four stood while several lay scattered around the hall.

Hermione was out of practice duelling, but that didn't stop her from trying. Clearing her mind, she settled on a hex first and ask questions later approach. She threw the first Death Eater into the second, then sent both crashing through the door of what she hoped was an empty room. The last two began firing back spells that missed her by a breath.

Chest heaving, wand tight in her hand, she came out of hiding with a hex for the third and incarcerous ropes for the last, sticking him to the wall with a charm.

She needed answers.

The Death Eater that struggled in his binds was vaguely familiar. A scowling face from Harry and Draco's wall. When she drew her wand, he stared back in challenge, then recognition.

"Potter's Mudblood. You're here." He grinned maniacally. "He's looking for you."

Hermione jammed the tip of her wand into his neck. "What do you want?"

"Order. Our order."

"You're all trapped here, the Aurors—"

"Are a little busy."

She froze.

They were on their own.

"I'd run if I were you, but really there's nowhere to hide. He took this mission just for the chance to see you, Her—"

She stunned him before he could finish.

After binding all four and shoving letters in each of their pockets, Hermione methodically continued on, doing the same with each Death Eater she stumbled upon as she grew closer and closer to the center of the action.

Hermione was binding yet another—her ninth—and peeked around one corner when she heard, felt, and saw an unfamiliar box detonate in the hall.

One.

Then others.

All together. All at once.

The force sent her flying back like a scrap of paper caught in the wind.

A cloud of white was all she saw before the wall stopped her momentum and the floor broke her fall.

The impact stole air from her lungs.

White hot pain shocked her system like lightning.

Her head swam as blood roared in her ears.

Hermione gripped her chest, struggling to breathe, every muscle tense as she curled into a fetal position.

She forced out a sobbing gasp. Sputtering a series of coughs, she tried to see through the white dust.

It felt like it took an age to get back to her feet. Disoriented, Hermione's first steps were blind in the haze surrounding her.

It was getting thicker.

She was beginning to choke but stumbled on, trying to clear her head.

She couldn't stop coughing.

She could barely breathe.

There was no preparing for the outright battle she all but fell into.

The Healers were fighting back as a team. All covered, they appeared to be on the brink of regaining control. Spells flew in all directions and Hermione barely missed being hit by a stray one when she was momentarily distracted by the sight of Susan holding her own in the fray.

Movement out the corner of her eye caught her attention.

Padma. Running in her direction.

"Go!"

Hermione didn't ask questions as she turned and ran.

Padma caught up in mere seconds.

It didn't take long to figure out what was chasing her.

Or who.

A howl sliced the air as Greyback came crashing around the corner at the exact moment Hermione turned her head. Using her wand, Hermione created a blockade of rubble behind her, but he burst through unaffected. More enraged. She put up a stronger one but the debris wall shook against the force of his body.

They couldn't outrun him.

Padma pulled her into an empty room and immediately barricaded the door with everything possible. While catching her breath, Hermione looked to the alternative exit into the next room.

Just in case.

"What happened?"

"Their faces and bodies started changing back. Polyjuice." Padma's voice was slightly muffled by her Bubble-Head Charm. "I stunned and bound the two I was in, set off the security alarms, and ran to Susan, who was in the room with Greyback. Have you seen her? We got split up."

"Yes," Hermione rasped, then coughed hard several times in rapid succession.

Padma's relief was temporary when she seized Hermione by the shoulders.

"You're poisoned. Boxes full of it detonated all over the floor. That dust is tainted."

The next time she coughed, there was a tinge of red on her palm.

She curled her hand into a fist and remained silent while Padma checked the room.

"All of these rooms are connected. Let's—"

The door was ripped off its hinges. Their barricade was destroyed.

Hermione grabbed Padma and ran for the next door, exiting the room just as Greyback burst in. They ran through room after room and ended back where Padma had found Hermione. The run had worn her out. She was panting as her chest rattled painfully with each breath she managed.

"Find Theo. He's trying to take down the security wards." Hermione scrubbed a hand over her face. "I need to get back to my office. I keep vials of the antidote in there."

"Hermione, he wants—"

"I know." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a few letters, shoving them into Padma's hands. "Stun and bind. Put these into their pockets. Go."

Confusion and hesitation warred, even as Padma nodded and ran off.

There wasn't a moment of peace.

More Death Eaters.

More spells flying in her direction.

Hermione ducked and moved, defending herself with protection spells as she ran as quickly as she could, feeling as though she were being drained like a battery. The chase continued. By the time she found her way back to where she'd last seen Susan, it appeared the Healers had it under control.

They were still too close.

Two were still at her heels.

It became harder and harder to keep going.

The first of their spells missed, the other hit her painfully in the back right as the unnoticed box next to her shook.

Glowed.

Instinctively, Hermione called out the first protection spell she could think of before it exploded.

The blast still sent her stumbling. More pain flooded her senses and drowned her. It was impossible to move but she desperately needed to.

Then silence.

It rang in her ears. She struggled to her feet as a wave of nausea rose sharply.

Everything was dull. Muffled. Hazy and thick.

The hall was littered with both unconscious bodies and those struggling to rise. The two Death Eaters who had chased her were sprawled on the ground behind her. Unmoving.

Confusion fogged her thoughts, misery flooded her chest, and agony screamed in her veins until she took notice of the small piece of glass sticking out of her side.

Hermione panted, counted to three, and pulled it out slowly on two. She gritted her teeth and strained against the excruciating pain.

Dropping the glass, she held the wound as blood stained her shirt. She scrambled to find her wand.

She needed to heal herself.

But not before she put two letters into the pockets of the Death Eaters who had been chasing her and gathered the dust into a tight ball that hovered near the ceiling.

Other Healers were getting to their feet, but all she saw was the hulking werewolf behind them.

Greyback.

His human face was a sharp contrast to the animalistic howl that cut through the silence.

Knocking everyone out of his way like toys, he charged in her direction.

Hermione nearly tripped trying to run. Each step was more painful than the last.

She didn't have the stamina, but somehow still made it around the corner.

But it wasn't enough.

Grabbing her from behind, he slammed her into the closest wall.

The impact turned the world white.

Her ears screeched while her chest heaved with each painful breath.

Adrenaline kept the fear at bay.

"Finally."

Greyback smiled with all of his rotten teeth. When Hermione struggled to keep away from the foul stench of his breath, he looked entertained.

A predator.

Hermione aimed her wand and silently hit him with a stunner that did nothing more than make him laugh.

"Is that how you treat someone who's been waiting to see you?"

And then he twisted her wrist until she felt a punishing snap.

Her wand fell from her grip. A scream tore from her lips.

Hermione was still screaming while he touched her, powerless as his hands moved down her body. Terror awakened when he sniffed her like a dog, licked her tears, and touched the wound she'd forgotten about until he came back with blood on his fingers.

"Delicious." He sniffed his fingers and scowled. "You're infected."

Two Death Eaters came around the corner.

One carried an unconscious body over his shoulder. Like a meaningless ragdoll, he dropped the body on the floor.

Padma.

She was bleeding from her head.

"Aurors are here. Time to go."

Hermione was too numb to feel relief.

When Greyback pulled her off the wall, the other wizard cut his eyes.

"They said no prisoners. We can't take—"

"I don't give a fuck what they say," Greyback snarled. "I have what I came for."

"They won't be—"

Greyback seized the man by the throat. There was an audible crack before he landed in a heap next to Padma. Dead. Fear in his eyes. The other Death Eater backed away slowly as Greyback took out his wand.

Maybe cleverness would save her, but if Padma was left here bleeding as she was, she wouldn't survive.

"Let me heal her and I'll come with you willingly."

Greyback seized her by the throat, cutting off her air. Hermione started choking. Grabbing at his hands uselessly, her pain was all but forgotten.

"Cross me and I'll snap your neck with ease."

"I-I won't," she strained out.

To her utter surprise, Greyback let her go and let her pick up her wand.

Hermione ignored her own pain and fought back the nausea enough to perform the charm to seal Padma's head wound. When Hermione tried to check for her pulse, spotting the note still in her fist, Greyback dragged her to her feet by her hair.

"That's enough! Time to go."

The pull of Apparition was chaotic. Worse than anything she could remember.

Everything was a blur of disconnected movements that created the feeling of being thrown around in a maelstrom.

A room? A shack? Faces?

They landed in a tangle of limbs outside.

Whether from the trauma, the poison, or the horrible Apparition, Hermione didn't know, but she vomited until there was nothing left in her stomach.

Greyback was disoriented, too, stumbling around blindly long enough to momentarily forget about her.

And his wand.

Which was beside her.

Desperate, she lunged for it, seized it, and screamed, "Sectumsempra."

White light shot from the wand and Greyback howled with pain.

Hermione quickly followed it with a blasting curse that slammed the werewolf against the tree so hard it snapped in two.

She fell to her knees and coughed until she couldn't suck in a single breath.

Blood painted the orange leaves red.

But Hermione knew better than to stop.

Her hand was shaking when she crawled to an unconscious Greyback. Cuts were forming all over his body before her eyes. She reached into her pocket and slipped a note in his boot.

Then dropped another and covered it with the fallen leaves.

Looking around, she realized she had no idea where she was.

Hermione stumbled away, gasping for breath and cradling her mangled wrist close to body while holding her side.

She began to feel what she'd been blocking away.

Pain.

Destination in mind, Hermione channeled everything left for one last jump back to the hospital, but the pull felt wrong.

Tight like a fine string, it shattered and snapped.

Molten agony seared each cell in her body as she felt herself being burned from the inside out.

Ripped apart at the seams.

She landed on her side in an empty forest.

Only the skies above witnessed her screams and sobs.

The trees listened well past the time they faded into choked, gasping breaths.

Blood soaked the earth until she was numb.

What was light bled into darkness.

---

Hermione floated.

Drifted.

Stepped into a fog somewhere in between.

She allowed it to close around her.

She knew to hold on and fight. She knew she should cling to fleeting awareness and pain and never let go.

But a selfish part of her wanted to keep floating in the mist. She wanted to let the pull she felt take her away.

But there was something that kept her there.

Something.

Something.

Hermione opened her eyes mid-gasp as if resurfacing from being submerged too long.

Her vision was blurred.

Pain.

Dulled like a lost memory, she felt only semi-attached to it. And her body.

Hermione could tell it hurt, she could feel the rumble of shock in her tight chest, but she couldn't feel it like she should.

Agony was merely a nagging thought in the back of her head, not blinding or debilitating. It waited patiently.

That worried her. The numbness. The disconnection.

"She's awake." It sounded like Theo, but Hermione couldn't be sure. "Hermione, can you hear me?"

"Yes." Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears.

Raspy and hoarse. From screaming.

The memory jolted her and made her panic. She couldn't move or see. Every muscle pulled taut. Rising terror swelled in her chest. Hot. Suffocating.

"I-I-I can't feel—"

Anything.

"Hermione, don't try to move." It sounded like Susan. Her voice was soft but she could hear the stress in it. The distension. "You're Splinched and you've lost a lot of blood. We're working to heal you."

Susan inhaled and fell quiet.

"Theo, it's not—" Whatever Susan was about to say was muffled. "I need you to remain calm."

Easier said than done.

Her vision began to clear, something that should have made things better, but had the opposite effect.

The artificial lights burned.

Hysteria crept up on all sides of her consciousness.

Each new spasm made it harder to keep still.

Hermione took two gasping breaths to force it down.

It wasn't working.

She needed to know.

"How… bad?" Hermione coughed, trying not to choke on the lump in her throat. It burned. "T-truth."

There was a pause.

"Even after the first dose of antidote, the poison isn't making healing you easy."

Bad. Very bad.

Okay, so maybe she didn't need to know.

"H-how… did you find… me?"

"We didn't. He did."

Hermione felt something being pulled tight, hard to tell where, and wheezed.

"Got it! Perfect." Susan sounded momentarily relieved. "Shite, your heart rate is too high. I need you to calm down."

"I can't."

Breathe.

Panic and pain rose steadily as each sense returned. Her vision and hearing sharpened.

"Oh, thank gods," Susan said all of a sudden. "Get over here!"

Hermione had a moment to question before she felt something that wasn't pain.

A hand in hers. Warm green eyes and the face of her best friend.

Comfort. Family.

Harry.

He looked terrible. The moment their eyes met, she saw it.

Fear.

"Everything clear?" Theo sounded gruff and impatient. "I need to move her from the welcome area. Is it safe?"

"Enough. Roger moved Padma into the last undamaged room. She's stable."

Hermione would have sobbed if she could.

"It'll have to work. I'll go make preparations." She heard Theo get to his feet, his shoes squeaking on the floor as he ran.

"Harry, hold her arms while I levitate her. Malfoy—"

Draco.

Hermione had no idea he was even there and didn't actually lay eyes on him until they got her off the floor.

A streak of red stained his chin. Drying blood painted his neck.

A bloody piece of parchment stuck out of his front pocket.

A note.

Everything flooded back.

Scorpius.

"H-he's safe."

Another cough burned from her chest.

"I know." He looked away. "Bones, what—"

"Shut up, Malfoy. I'm busy putting her back together. Make Hermione relax."

It was impossible when she felt herself fraying at the seams.

Habit made her seek out Harry first, but the naked fear in his eyes reignited her nausea.

It was slow but she turned back to Draco, keeping her focus trained on him.

This was easier.

She couldn't read him—didn't know what he was feeling or what was going through his head. His face was stone. The world narrowed further when she felt his warm hand press against her forehead. His other slipped into her hand when she coughed; her body shook with heaving breaths as she struggled for air. He squeezed tight enough for her to feel the slight tremble.

"Susan." Harry's voice was faint.

"I know. I'm doing everything I can."

Pain rose like a symphony of agony, growing louder and more complex, deafening her to the sounds of everything except her own ragged, gargled breaths.

A storm of emotions and fear raged inside her, drowning everything out—except the peace in his eyes. Something calm Hermione clung to desperately, but no matter how hard she tried, it was no use.

Shock began clouding her vision.

Dulled. Greyed. Darkened. Faded.

There was nothing except sound.

A voice speaking one word.

A plea.

"Hermione."

And in the middle of my chaos, there was you.
Paullina Simons

---

A/N: This chapter contains Canon-Typical Violence, Mentions of Gore, and a brief scene involving kidnapping. If any of these elements are triggering to you, please proceed with caution.

For those who have finished, welcome to Act Three of Measure of a Man. The arrival of the inevitable and the hardest scenes I've ever written. *Pants*

Next Update: 8/27