Chapter 17

I know you were born with your heart already broken. But the world began in pieces and somehow made itself whole.

-Lang Leav

Present Time: October 2001

Draco was currently pushing Hermione around the grand ballroom at Malfoy Manor (yes, pushing was the most accurate term, since she was still a terrible dancer), as he marveled over the changes between this Halloween and the same night a year ago. Last time Hermione had attended this event, she'd snuck in as Theo's date, lobbied Elders all night, relived that awful day in the drawing room, rushed home in tears, then called Weasley over to comfort her. Draco wasn't going to let any of that happen tonight.

The only potentially risky plan for the evening was the meeting with his mother later. Draco had been trying to keep his new relationship with Hermione secret from Narcissa, wanting more time with Hermione to work up a solid foundation before complicating things by announcing to his very traditional mother that he was dating a Muggleborn.

But last week, Narcissa had said over breakfast that she knew Draco was dating someone, since he spent most dinners away from the house and was in a much better mood. His mother assumed he'd finally figured things out with the witch Daphne had been talking about several weeks ago and guessed that the reason Draco was keeping it a secret was because he didn't think Narcissa would approve. Then, she said she loved him, said again she would approve of anyone who made him happy, and demanded he bring the witch to her Halloween Ball.

Draco knew better than to bring Hermione to the Ball without warning his mother first. So, he told her a few days ago who he was dating. She was surprisingly calm and admitted that because of how nervous Draco was, she'd been assuming the worst, like a werewolf or vampire, so was glad Draco had picked someone who was his age, human, and (if all the papers can be believed) very impressive.

When Draco asked how she felt about the fact that Hermione was a Muggleborn, she just waved her hand and dismissed him, saying she had a lot to do to get ready for the Ball. So, she didn't seem to be okay with that part, but was trying really hard to pretend like she was. That would have to be good enough for now. He was sure once she got to know Hermione, she'd fall in love with her, just as he had.

His mother was currently at the other end of the ballroom, greeting guests as they arrived. Earlier, she'd spotted Draco and Hermione dancing and waved to them but Hermione hadn't seen, or had pretended not to see, and ignored the gesture. Draco hoped it was the former, but suspected it was the latter. She'd very reluctantly agreed to this meeting with his mother and when he pressed her on it, she went quiet and waited for him to change the subject.

Oh well. He could wait until 9:30 to worry about that. For now, he simply wanted to enjoy this lovely witch in his arms. She looked especially beautiful today with a black lace gown, her hair pulled back loosely, and a touch of makeup enhancing her features. Even after over a month of dating he had moments, like this, when he could not believe she was really his and was sure he must be imagining this whole thing.

Hermione leaned in to ask him a question, her breath tickling his neck as she spoke. "Your friends are here. Do you want to go talk to them?"

"No. We need to continue to work on this." Draco grabbed her chin, then tilted her face up before kissing her thoroughly.

"I don't think that's helping with my dancing," she whispered as he pulled away.

He moved his hands to her back, which was mostly exposed by the dress, and pulled her so her body was flush with his. "I don't care," he whispered in her ear before feathering kisses along her neck.

"People are staring."

"I don't care about that, either," he replied, moving to the other side of her neck. She pushed him up by his shoulders. "What? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?"

She smirked. "Absolutely."

Draco sighed. "Fine. Let's go see these idiot friends of mine. But then, we're going to find a dark corner, empty bedroom, or - no - the library, you'd love that, and we're going to snog in private."

She smiled. "I wondered how long I'd have to wait to get an invitation to your library."

"But we're going to snog," he said insistently. "No reading."

At her stern look, he amended, "Fine. But only five minutes of reading."

"Thirty."

"Ten."

"Fifteen."

"Deal."

They'd reached the side of the room where Theo, Daphne, and Blaise were standing. Draco wrapped an arm around Hermione as they approached the group. Hermione greeted Theo and Daphne warmly, then gave Blaise a polite wave. Hermione had started going to Nott Manor every Tuesday night for drinks with their group, which was where she'd tried a few times to bond with Blaise but so far, the two of them hadn't hit it off.

Draco wasn't surprised. Blaise was certainly an acquired taste and Hermione was still learning how best to deal with him. He didn't push it, since, so far, she hadn't asked that Draco attend any of her friend events and the last thing he wanted was for her to get it in her mind that since she was putting in so much effort with his friends, he should start going to the Burrow with her every weekend. Draco shuddered at the thought and tightened his grip on Hermione.

"Where's your date, Blaise?" Draco asked, not looking forward to meeting whichever busty nitwit he'd convinced to accompany him tonight. Hopefully, she'd have the good sense to stay quiet. It was the ones who gabbed on and on about nothing who Draco hated the most.

Blaise pointed at Daphne.

"But that's Daphne," Hermione replied, confused.

"Daphne's my date," Blaise said in a bored tone, though Draco could tell by the gleam in his eyes that he was enjoying this reveal.

Daphne reached forward and closed Hermione's mouth, which had been hanging open. "Draco used to be my go-to date for events like this, but you went and took him away from me, so Blaise is standing in."

"What happened to all those blokes you were dating?" Theo asked.

Daphne simply waved him away. "I need a break from all that, it was getting exhausting. I'm going to give it time, wait for a few wizards to mature, break up with their current girlfriends, or move here from an exotic country. I'll kick off my search for the perfect husband again next year."

Draco had been watching Blaise during this speech, but he seemed unphased. Daphne seemed surprisingly calm, too, though Draco bet that had more to do with the empty Champagne glass in her hand than any newfound tranquility with the situation.

"No shagging tonight," Draco said sternly.

Daphne let out a laugh while Blaise rolled his eyes.

"I mean it," he added. "We just got to the point where we can all be in the same room again and I'll not have you two fucking it up by, you know, fucking it up."

"Nice pun, though a little crass," Hermione whispered in his ear. He squeezed her bum in response.

"Don't worry," Daphne replied. "We got over that stupid fight weeks ago and we're just here as friends."

"I have a question," Theo cut in, raising his hand in the air.

"We're not at school," Blaise drawled. "You don't have to wait for someone to call on you."

Theo scowled as he lowered his hand. "What happens when Blaise flirts with other witches and inevitably finds one to take home with him?"

Daphne just shrugged. "At the last event I attended with Draco, he flirted with Hermione all night and though he didn't go home with her, it was clear he wanted to. So, I'm used to it. It's certainly better than coming alone," she ended, giving Theo a pointed look.

"He didn't have to come alone," Hermione chimed in. "I offered to ask-"

"If you say that name one more time, I will gut you," Theo replied.

She put her hands on her hips and stood up straighter. "I'd like to see you try, Theo. Also, you two would be good together! Believe me, I know you both very well. You're all dark and broody with that biting sarcasm and he's all kind and bubbly but has a dark sense of humor, just under the surface, and I think if you'd just-"

"He's a Hufflepuff!" Theo spat.

"You're a Slytherin! Why is that relevant?"

"A gay Hufflepuff…" Blaise chuckled under his breath.

Theo glared at him, then turned back to Hermione. "Just drop it."

"Fine," she sighed.

Draco wrapped an arm around her and kissed her on the head, which earned him a fake vomiting motion from Daphne, a wince from Blaise, and, well, nothing special from Theo. Draco didn't care what his friends thought, even though he was pretty sure they all liked her. Hermione was his, finally, and he wasn't going to let anyone forget it.

"Okay, time to see my mother," Draco announced.

"Oh, right." Hermione wasn't even trying to hide her disappointment.

When Draco got her in the hall, he pulled her to the side and asked, "Do you want to talk about this? About why you're so upset?"

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "No. Let's just get this over with."

"Okay…after this, I'll show you the main library."

That made her smile. "There's more than one?"

"Of course."

Draco had worked out in advance with his mother that he'd bring Hermione to the sitting room closest to the ballroom so they could talk in private. He wasn't expecting a scene, per se, but thought both witches would probably be more at ease without an audience.

His mother was waiting for them, looking especially elegant in a form-fitting, dark green gown that reminded Draco of a forest at nighttime. Draco gave his mother a quick peck on the cheek, then formally introduced her to Hermione.

"Hello, Hermione. It's lovely to see you, again."

Narcissa held her hand out and Hermione hesitated before taking it. Draco placed a soft hand on her back in encouragement, then Hermione took his mother's hand, but dropped it quickly, not bothering to say anything in response. If Narcissa noticed the slight, she didn't give any indication.

"You look lovely, tonight," Narcissa said, trying again to engage with Hermione. "That dress, especially, is perfect for the evening."

Hermione looked down at the black gown, running her hands along the lace skirt. "Yes. Daphne picked it out."

"Oh, well, you'd do well to trust Daphne, she has impeccable taste."

"I'll be sure to confer with her before appearing in public with your son, so as not to embarrass you."

Fuck! Seriously, Hermione? She's trying!

His mother's jaw tightened, but she took Hermione's harsh words in stride. "That's not necessary."

"Daphne is the sort of witch you wish Draco were with, isn't she?"

Draco tapped on Hermione's back in warning, but she didn't seem to care.

"I didn't say that," his mother replied tersely. "Draco's happy with you and I'm glad for both of you. It seems like you found something special with each other and I have no plans to get in the way of that."

"Really?"

"Really." It was clear by the harshness of Narcissa's tone that she was losing her temper and, honestly, so was Draco. Why did Hermione have to make this so difficult?

His mother took a deep breath, then said kindly, "I know there's a lot of bad history here, but it seems you've found a way to forgive my son. I hope that one day, you can find it in your heart to forgive me, too."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, which Draco knew was a bad sign. He tapped her in warning again but she just stepped out of his grasp.

"Draco was young and clouded by hate. Hate that he was taught to feel by his parents. But you were an adult. What was your excuse? I'll try to find a way to understand how you could have possibly done what you did: turned me and my friends in when we were brought here by the Snatchers, watched an innocent girl get tortured in front of you for no reason, or allowed a murderer to live in your house, but - well - I don't want to make any promises I can't keep."

With that, Hermione turned and marched out of the room. Draco swore as soon as she was gone.

"Language, Draco," Narcissa said automatically.

"Mother, I-"

She shook her head and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I deserved that. I deserved worse than that. She'll get past it, I hope. We just need to give her time. I should get back to my guests."

She walked to the hall, stopping in the doorway to wipe her eyes, then disappeared.

Draco took several calming breaths before he went to find Hermione. She was leaning against the wall of an empty bedroom at the end of the hall. She hadn't turned on any lights in the room, but it was dimly lit by the moonlight coming in through the window.

Draco rounded on her. "What was that?"

"I couldn't do it," she said, her voice shaky. "I thought, maybe, because I know how important she is to you, but then I saw her and I couldn't."

"You didn't even try!"

"Yes I did! You have no idea what I've been feeling this whole time. But she-" Hermione pointed toward the ballroom, "-she turned us in! You were trying to lie about our identity and she's the one who identified us. Then, she stood by and-" Her voice caught in her throat.

Draco tried to calm himself. Hermione was clearly going through something and he'd been wrong to push her. But still, she hadn't looked like she'd been making an effort. And this was his mother. He stepped forward and placed his hands on her arms. "She was in a terrible situation. She didn't want to do any of that and at the end of the war, she was done with it all, which was why she helped Potter."

"She helped Harry because she wanted to get into the castle to see you. Don't pretend it was some grand show of remorse."

Draco sighed and dropped his head, resting it on her shoulder. "Fine. I guess this was too soon. But, eventually, you'll have to figure out how to be with her without...yelling."

"Why?" she challenged.

Draco looked back up at her. "What do you mean, 'why?' She's my mother."

"Maybe I'll never get there. You can continue to see her, obviously, and I'll just...not."

Draco dropped his hands from her arms and took a step back "How is that going to work?"

"People make difficult familial situations work all the time. Like divorced parents who have to pass their kids around every week."

"No. We're not going to be like that. You have to figure this out. I'll not have the two most important people in my life unable to carry on a simple conversation."

"I have to figure this out? I don't have to do anything."

"Yes, you do!"

She scoffed. "Why? Because you told me so? Because you're the wizard here and you get to order me around?"

"I've heard enough of your feminism speeches. I don't need another one."

"He says, as he orders me around," she muttered as an aside.

Draco let out a loud sigh of frustration. His anger was mounting and he knew if he didn't get a handle on it, he'd say something he'd regret. "Just – please, Hermione - can you try? Try with her. Give it more than five minutes. She's a good person, I promise, and you have to find a way to forgive her."

"Why?" Hermione repeated.

"Because if you can't forgive her for her past, how are you supposed to forgive me for mine?!" he shouted.

They were silent as his words echoed through the room. Draco didn't know what to say. He hadn't realized until he'd shouted it that that was what had been behind his desperation for Hermione to get on with his mother. And now that he'd yelled his darkest fear at her, he didn't know where to go. It was sort of Hermione's move.

She took his hand, laced their fingers together, and said simply, "I need you to take me home."

Draco had to blink back tears as he led her to the Floo. That was it? She just wanted to go home? So much for making this night better than last year. "I'll see you at my flat," she said as she dropped his hand, then took a pile of Floo powder and walked into the flames.

Draco stayed back. He even considered not following her for several moments. He felt sick and for the first time since they'd started dating, unsure of their future together. He punched the stone mantle and cried out in pain. Fuck. He'd probably just fractured something. Draco Summoned Finley to heal it, then swore several times.

When Finley asked him if he needed anything else, Draco had the elf bring him a drink. After he drained the glass of Fire Whiskey, he turned to the fire. Draco tossed in a pile of Floo powder and stared at the green flames for several moments before saying, "Hermione's Granger's flat, London," and stepping into the hearth.

Hermione was pacing her sitting room when Draco walked through the flames. She was nearly in the hall but turned around once she saw him and ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck. Draco took that as a good sign and enveloped her in a tight hug.

"What happened? I thought you were just behind me," she said into his chest.

"I needed a minute." To break my hand, get my hand healed, then down a large glass of whiskey, he added in his mind.

Hermione pulled back and looked up at him, her eyes searching. "Oh. Okay. I'm sorry I made you leave so abruptly and for not explaining or saying anything, and I know this is about more than just me getting along with your mother and we need to address that, but I - I just - had to get out of there. I felt like I couldn't breathe. And it's a lovely house, don't get me wrong, I like your house, sort of...but I have - uh - bad memories, you know..."

It seemed like now that Hermione was back in familiar territory and able to breathe again, she'd also rediscovered her voice and was doing the fast-talking thing she did when she was upset. Draco placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her in an effort to simultaneously calm her and shut her up, since he was having trouble following her.

"It's fine," he whispered as he pulled away. "We're fine," he repeated, though he had no idea if this was true.

Hermione laid her head on Draco's chest and they stood there in the middle of the room, simply holding each other for several moments. Draco wondered if they were going to circle back to their most recent argument or ignore it all together. He knew what he'd vote for, but decided it was best to follow Hermione's lead on this.

"I think we should sit," she said after another minute.

"Okay."

They both sat on the sofa, then Hermione sidled up against Draco and laid her head on his shoulder. It was so similar to her and Weasley's pose on this exact night, a year ago, and Draco felt sick as he remembered it. Would he end up like Weasley? Just another miserable wizard who'd had Hermione, briefly, but hadn't been good enough to keep her?

They were quiet for another few minutes, then Draco announced, "I have a confession."

"Hmm?"

"Last year, when you left without saying goodbye, I was worried. So, I stuck my head in that fire right there, just to check that you'd made it home okay. I saw you sitting here with Weasley, then pulled my head out before I was seen."

She shifted in his arms, so she was facing him. "You did that? That's...creepy."

"Yeah," he sighed, pushing an errant curl behind her ear. "I just needed to know you were okay."

"I'm sorry I left like that. And I'm sorry I never explained. That night was...a lot...more than I was willing to let on, even to myself and we - well, we weren't very good at communicating back then."

"And we're better now?"

She responded with a small breath of a laugh.

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you, about that apology, but I didn't want to bring up that day unnecessarily," Draco began.

Hermione nodded for him to continue.

"You said it was forced, just before we got together. And we haven't really talked about that. But - it wasn't. I know I fumbled through it, but I still meant it. I just - struggled to get it out because, as you said, we weren't communicating well. And I'm just rubbish at that sort of thing, anyway. But I can apologize again, if you want."

"No," she said quickly, taking his hands. "No, no, no. I was talking nonsense when I said that. I had just convinced myself your feelings for me were never real and was trying to piece things together in my mind, but I - I believed you were sincere at the time. I still do. And I forgave you as soon as you said the words. I should have told you sooner."

"Really?"

Hermione nodded.

Draco let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. She'd forgiven him, at least for all the taunts from school and for that day in the drawing room. But the rest of the war… that was something else.

Once again, her thoughts were aligned with his. "We never talk about the war," Hermione said quietly. "We've discussed that day in the Manor, but not the rest of it."

"Yeah."

"Draco…" Her eyes were sad and Draco's chest clenched as a feeling of dread came over him. This was it. The end for them. It was finally hitting her how much stood between them. There was a small voice in the back of his mind trying to remind him that they'd be married one day, but he couldn't listen to it, right now. Not when he felt so distant from her.

Then, for the thousandth time, Hermione said something Draco didn't expect. "I want to know all of it."

"What?"

"We don't talk about what happened during the war, but we should. It's standing between us like this heavy...weight and I want to clear it. So...how about I tell you everything that happened from my perspective, then you tell me everything you went through and then...we can try to move past it."

Well, that is a million times easier said than done.

No shit.

Draco looked down at their clasped hands and spoke to them as he said, "Do we really need to dredge it up? It's in the past. We both know enough to guess at what was going on in the other's life at the time and-"

"I think it's important," she cut in. She waited until he looked back up at her before adding, "I know it's hard, I do, but - I think we should be able to share these things with each other."

Draco's chest was so tight now he was struggling to breathe. An intense fear had gripped him and he was trying hard to hide his panic, but was fumbling through his usual methods for calming himself.

First, take a deep breath. He couldn't get a full breath because his chest was so tight. Next, clear your mind. He wasn't able to focus enough to properly use Occlumency. Third, clench your fists and use the pain of your nails cutting into your skin to distract you from the rest. He was holding Hermione's hands, so couldn't do that one either.

Draco closed his eyes, just for something to do, and for once, his mind did something useful besides providing him with the usual diatribe. It recalled a conversation he'd had with future Draco about Hermione, before he'd known she was the witch who would one day become his wife.

"So, you told her...everything?" - "Yes, she knows about the war. All of it, and she didn't go running for the hills." - "Wow." - "I know."

"Okay," Draco said aloud, keeping his eyes closed.

Hermione squeezed his hands. "Are you sure?"

"No," he said honestly. He opened his eyes and found her watching him warily, eyes wide with concern. She smiled and kissed his hands, then dropped them and stood up from the couch.

"It'll be okay. Really. I'm going to go get more comfortable. You can do the same."

"So we're going to do this...now?"

She simply shrugged. "Why not?"

When he didn't say anything, she gave him a kiss on the cheek and said again, "It'll be fine. I promise."

Easy for her to say, a voice in his head said as she walked into her room, closing the door softly behind her. Her side of the story is just going to be a tragic list of bad shit that happened to her and her friends. Your side, however…

I know. Believe me, I know.

Eager to distract himself from his thoughts, Draco stood up from his spot on the sofa and began "making himself more comfortable," like Hermione had suggested. He removed his outer robe and draped it over a chair. Then he took off his cufflinks and slipped them into the pocket of the robes. Next, he took off his tie and waistcoat, then pulled his shirt out of his trousers. That was about as comfortable as he was probably going to get without Transfiguring his clothes, which he didn't have the energy for.

Hermione reappeared a moment later and Draco laughed when he saw her, which eased the tightness in his chest, slightly. Her hair was down, hanging in loose curls over her shoulders, and she was still wearing the top part of her gown, but the skirt was gone and had been replaced by black pajama bottoms.

"You look ridiculous," Draco announced. "If Daphne saw you right now, she'd implode."

"What?" Hermione looked down at her outfit. "I picked black so it would match." She had reached his side and was snaking her arms around him.

He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "Did you Sever that dress to make this ensemble possible?"

"No," she laughed. "It was already in two parts. Plus, you know I don't mind fancy tops. It's just the bottoms that bother me. Anyway. Are you ready?"

"No."

She sighed and tightened her grip on him. "Yeah. I know how you feel. But I think we'll both feel better after."

Draco was very sure she didn't know how he felt but decided to let her comment slide. "If you say so," he said doubtfully as he followed her to the sofa.

Draco settled into his same spot and Hermione snuggled next to him, lying her head back against his chest. Draco wrapped his arm around her and they sat in silence for a few moments before Hermione said, "I can go first."

"Okay."

She shifted so she was facing the fire, grabbed Draco's free hand, and started talking. She told him the whole tale, starting from when Dumbledore died to when she found her parents in Australia and reversed their memories. As she spoke, she highlighted the five worst moments that still haunted her, pausing to shed a few tears as she relived each one.

Draco tried to look away from her as she talked, knowing if it were him, he'd appreciate the privacy, but when she stopped to cry, he couldn't help but turn to look at her. She was beautiful, even though she was crying, with her curls framing her face, her skin perfectly smooth, marred only by tear tracks and an occasional freckle, and the fire dancing in her eyes, making them look golden.

The first time she cried, at the beginning, when she was telling him about Obliviating her parents, he leaned in and wiped her tears with his fingers, then kissed her cheek. He did the same the second time she cried, as she explained how Weasley had left her and Potter alone. But the third time, when she described getting tortured at the Manor, he pulled away.

"What's wrong?" she asked, turning to look at him.

"I assume you probably don't want to touch me, right now," he explained, his voice rough.

"You assumed wrong," she replied, sidling close to him again. Draco sighed, then wiped her tears and listened to the rest of her story.

When she was finished, Draco told her, "You're even more impressive than I realized. It makes me feel so… inadequate."

Hermione didn't say anything to that. She just buried her head in his chest and wrapped an arm around his middle. Draco held her, relishing how warm and solid she felt, as he tried to work up the courage to start talking.

"You don't have to go tonight," she said after a while, her voice muffled by his chest. "You can tell me later, if you want."

"I don't want to tell you ever," he admitted, "but I think I should. And I may as well do it now since we're both already sad."

She nodded and sat back up, then shifted so she was sitting next to him with her head resting on his shoulder. After another minute, Draco began his story. He started it at the end of Fifth Year, when his father was taken to Azkaban and the Dark Lord showed up at his house. Hermione kept her head down on his shoulder as he spoke, facing the fire.

He knew she was listening, even though he couldn't see her face, and preferred not to have to look in her eyes as he told her about the raids on Muggle villages he'd assisted with, the punishments he was forced to dole out, and the countless people he'd watched die in front of him. He kept expecting Hermione to sit up and flee to the other side of the couch or tell him to leave, but she stayed next to him, breathing softly.

Draco didn't stop when he reached the end of the war, like Hermione had, but kept talking, focusing on the fire as he did so. He told her about all his failed attempts to cope with the aftermath of the war by sleeping around, taking potions, and drinking. He told her how none of it worked and the only thing that made him feel like he could breathe again was, surprisingly, apologizing to Potter, which had actually been his mother's suggestion.

Then, Draco told her about how his father's death had sent him back to that depression and how he'd tried to cope at that time with a mix of potions, alcohol, and Dark Magic and how it was Potter, again, who had forced him out of that darkness.

And finally, he told her how even now, he looked in the mirror and saw the evil he'd done reflected in his eyes. How he loathed the scar from his Dark Mark and kept it hidden as much as possible, and how he was still plagued by nightmares, at least once a week, that usually featured him torturing or killing someone he cared about, which was a group that included her now.

"That's, uh, all I have," he ended lamely, wiping a few tears away with the back of his hand.

Hermione sat up and Draco saw she'd been crying, silently. She rubbed her tears away with her hands, then sat back on her heels. He waited patiently for her verdict as she regarded him and it was nearly as bad as the time several years before, when he'd been waiting to hear from the Wizengamot whether or not he'd be going to Azkaban.

Then, she did something unexpected, yet again. Hermione lifted up on her knees and traced her fingers along the neckline of his shirt. "May I?" she asked, her fingers dancing over the top buttons.

Draco recoiled out of instinct. He hated for people to see his scars. But he'd just told her the story behind each one. Surely, that was worse than seeing the marks left behind. Draco nodded, reluctantly.

Hermione moved her hands down to his elbows to pull him up. When he was kneeling across from her, she began undoing the buttons of his shirt. Draco was trying hard to keep his breathing steady and to keep from shaking; not wanting her to know how scared he was.

When she had his shirt opened, she frowned as she ran a finger along two gashes across his abdomen. Draco shivered at her touch. "Harry?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Yeah."

She nodded sadly. "He was so sorry."

"He's told me."

Hermione bit her lip, then moved her gaze up to a thin line across his chest. "The Muggle who got you with a knife."

He bit his lip, then nodded. Damn, she'd been listening very closely.

"But this wasn't made with magic. Surely, healing it would have been easy."

"I wanted the scar," he explained, his voice shaking. She nodded solemnly and he could tell he didn't need to explain further. She understood. She knew all the stories, he reminded himself. Fuck. It was terrifying, being this exposed.

Hermione surveyed the rest of the scars on his chest, probably recalling the story behind each one, but she stayed quiet. Then she raised her hands to his right shoulder and pulled the shirt down to reveal a series of deep slashes. She winced. "This was your punishment for not killing the Muggle who gave you the knife wound."

"Yes."

"From Bellatrix."

He simply nodded.

"Did your mother stand by and let that happen, too?" she asked sharply.

Draco closed his eyes and shook his head. He was struggling to keep his tears from falling.

"Sorry, that was uncalled for," she said gently, placing a hand on his cheek. "This is about us, not anyone else."

When Draco opened his eyes again, she pulled his shirt down to reveal his other shoulder where there was another small scar. "What's this from?"

"Quidditch."

"Oh." She smiled. He guessed it was nice to know that he was marked by some of the things he loved most in life, too.

"And I know this one," she said when she reached a faint scar on his elbow. It was the one he'd sustained from the hippogriff in Third Year.

"Probably best to leave that topic alone, for now."

She let out a small laugh. "Yes."

Hermione pulled Draco's shirt back up and just when he thought she was finished, she moved her hands to the cuff of his left sleeve. "Is this okay?"

Shit. Of course she wanted to see his Dark Mark. He didn't know what all of this was about and he wanted to press her on it, ask if she was intending to torture him, because that's what this scrutiny felt like, but in that moment, he was powerless to fight her.

"Okay," he tried to whisper, but it didn't come out. He nodded instead.

Hermione kept her eyes locked on his as she pulled his sleeve up to his elbow. When his forearm was exposed, she looked down and ran her fingers across the scar. Draco closed his eyes because he couldn't stand seeing her, someone so gorgeous, touching something so ugly. Just the thought of it made him sick.

She put his arm back at his side and pulled his sleeve down. Next, he felt her place a soft kiss on his cheek. "Draco," she whispered. He opened his eyes to find her looking at him, eyes lined with tears again. "Thank you for telling me all of that."

He simply nodded. That seemed to be all he was reduced to now. Silent gestures.

Hermione reached out and placed her hand over his heart, which was beating impossibly fast. What was about to happen? She was considering something but besides that, he couldn't read her thoughts. He was glad, actually, since he didn't want to know what she was thinking. Likely wondering what she'd got herself into and how she could get herself out of it.

Draco just knelt there, with his shirt hanging open and his scars laid bare, as she sat across from him looking like a vision in her dainty lace top, all wild curls, bright eyes, and golden hues. She was like a goddess who had stopped in the forest to help a miserable, wounded animal. He couldn't bear the imbalance between them anymore. His instincts were shouting at him to run away and hide.

"Hermione," he choked out, his eyes pleading.

She looked down at her hand which was still resting on his chest, then back up at him. "I'm sorry all that happened to you," she whispered. "I'm sorry it broke you and I'm sorry you're covered in scars, both on the surface and underneath, but also...I'm kind of...not sorry."

Draco cocked his head, sure he'd misheard her.

"Maybe you had to go through all that to be you and maybe I had to go through my stuff to be me and maybe that's what it took for us to get to here and now. Two sad, broken pieces of a puzzle that when put together, make something pretty remarkable."

She sighed and moved her hands to his shoulders. "You always say I write succinctly but say things with ten times more words than I need, which is certainly true now. What I'm trying to say is: I love you. For who you are, what you've had to overcome, and who I am when I'm with you. I love you, Draco."

"I don't - I don't understand." How was that possible? He'd just revealed the worst parts of himself and she loved him? She was supposed to be smart.

"Do you want me to repeat it? I'm not sure if I'll get the rambling parts right, but I can try."

Draco shook his head. "Can you just repeat - uh - the last part?"

She beamed at him. "I love you."

Draco leaned in and kissed her as a warmth he'd never experienced before flowed through him. She loved him! Hermione, the most perfect person he'd ever encountered, loved him! And he loved her. He had to tell her.

"I love you, too," he said in a rush. The words were garbled, since they were still in the middle of their kiss, so he leaned back and said it again. "I love you."

"Oh. You don't have to say it because I did."

"It's true. I've been thinking about it for a long time. I was just waiting for you to say so first. I didn't know if it was too soon or if you'd freak out but - I do know it's real. You're - everything. Without you, my life was nothing - I was nothing - and now, you're here and things are finally as they should be." Then he added a qualifier, just in case. "At least for me."

"For me, too."

Draco smiled and they knelt there, staring at each other for several moments. He could not believe how thoroughly they'd turned this night around. She'd done that. They'd been fighting, then he'd told her the darkest parts of his past and she'd taken it all in stride, even going so far as to declare that she loved him. It was almost like... magic.

Stupid pun.

She'd like it.

Yeah, probably.

"I love you," Draco whispered. Then he made a mental note to tell her every time he saw her, no matter what was going on around them. Honestly, he should have been telling her this whole time.

"I love you," she whispered back.

A/N: Aw, they love each other. Also, they're about to have sex. Sooo, get excited for that. Unfortunately, you'll have to wait a little bit. I'm traveling with my family to the other side of the country to visit my siblings and parents, so I'm going to take a break from writing and posting to deal with that inevitable chaos. I'll be back in a week!

Also, here's another fun chance to compare the last timeline with this one.

In Timeless, Hermione was hesitant about Narcissa, for all these same reasons, but when she told Draco, he was understanding. Not so much this go-around. There are a few reasons why he reacted differently. One, he's a lot closer to his mother this time, two, his relationship with Hermione is still new here while in Timeless, this came about when they were already married and three, in Timeless they'd already had that epic Honeymoon where they shared everything and Hermione said she'd keep him, even with all that. Here they had that big moment after their fight about his mother.

Okay, enough of that. I just love watching (or maybe 'making' is the better word) these characters (with all the same personalities, motivations, fears, hopes, etc.) behave in different ways just because of a small change in circumstances. So fun. Thanks for reading!