Forty One
Out Of The Shadows
January 20, 2012
Like shadows eclipsed even the most vibrant colours, the curse held Draco tight within its grip.
Ash white cheeks framed pale lips. His forehead was cool to the touch.
Stubborn to a fault, Hermione refused to cede the fight.
She followed him to the edge of darkness, summoned her strength, and dragged him back.
Blood painted an abstract masterpiece across the floor.
Lines and spots—small, large, and a range of sizes between—coalesced to tell the tale of the night that had yet to end.
The unfinished portrait of Draco's pain stained Hermione's senses.
Everyone held their breath.
Time ticked by in an endless sequence of suffocating seconds as they waited for the curse to stop feeding off Draco's flesh, rotting his muscles, and melting his bones.
When it did, Susan jolted.
"It worked!" Padma slackened from relief. "You were right, Hermione."
The knot in her stomach loosened slightly.
"We need to move him, preferably to St Mungo's now that he's stable enough." Susan got to her feet. "All my books are there and we need zero interruptions."
"There won't be room." Given everything Hermione had seen before escaping, the hospital would be overrun. "Maybe I can convert my office into—" Her mind went to the sleeping boy on the sofa they'd have to pass. "Scor—"
"Dean took him upstairs." Daphne stood in the doorway, her eyes on Draco. "H-he's still sleeping."
"Can you—"
"Of course." Daphne regained her composure. "We're all going to be with him and Narcissa for as long as it takes. You just focus on Draco."
Hermione carefully lowered Draco onto his side on the makeshift bed in her old office while Padma put up a silencing charm to mitigate any interruptions.
Susan opened the spellbook and flipped to the right page, filling the stilted silence.
"The reversal process takes five spells. He's been through this before, but it's still dangerous. We'll need to monitor everything. His vitals should alert us to any sign of trouble, but the timing has to be precise—down to the second—or the counter-curse won't work."
"Okay." Hermione exhaled. "Ready when you are."
Susan conjured an hourglass, and Padma waved her wand to enhance Draco's vitals, studying the proof of life laced in the parchment's faint lines.
Then they both looked at her.
The hourglass embodied time, the ever-present reminder of man's mortality.
"His vitals are holding."
One grain equalled a second. One turn marked the top of a new hour.
"Susan, go ahead and start."
Time was as finite as the sands in the hourglass.
As was Hermione's patience.
"No." Hermione tightened her grip on her wand. "I'm taking the lead."
Draco's wound was festering.
The rot was suspended in animation across the surface of his skin. He looked ravaged.
"You can't do this," Padma argued. "Each one you start, you have to finish. You're too invested to think straight. You're tired and stressed, and he's your—"
"That's exactly why I'm doing this." Hermione rolled up her sleeves.
"She won't back down, Padma, and we don't have time to argue." Susan looked across the bed. "Keep monitoring his vitals and I'll assist Hermione."
The hourglass turned over
Liquid power flowed through Hermione's veins like electricity.
It flared from the tip of her wand in sharp slices; precise incantations filled the silence.
The air smelled like nature. Like earth. Like magic.
The ends of her curls lifted and twisted when the first counter-spell finally bound with the curse.
Padma's relieved exhale cut through the rustle of Susan's panicked page-flipping.
"Steady." Susan brought the book to eye-level and peered at the next incantation. "We're just getting started."
Hermione centred her focus.
The hourglass flipped.
One.
A trickle of sweat slid from Hermione's hairline and caught in her eyebrow.
Susan dabbed it away. "Do you need me to repeat the next incantation?"
"No." Hermione's pulse thumped hard as her next spell sharpened the translucent stream pouring from the tip of her wand into bright light. "I can take it from here."
The hourglass turned.
Two.
The curse fought back.
Susan's voice was frantic. "You're running out of time."
The festering sores began to spread again. Inky black rot crept across pale skin.
Susan returned to the book with renewed determination. The parchment in Padma's hands glowed bright. Draco's vitals teetered on the verge of critical.
Ebony tendrils roped wider. The cursed rot spilled like acid across his flesh.
Hermione pushed the fear from her mind and repeated the counter-curse with more force.
Then again.
And again.
She said it until her mouth grew dry.
Until the edges stopped spreading.
Until the parchment's frightening pulse faded.
"He's stable."
They all exhaled.
The hourglass turned end over end again.
Three.
"Hermione." Susan dabbed her face with a cloth. "You're shaking and exhausted. The book says, if any point, the curse begins to fight back, we have to stop—"
"I'm not stopping." The only way out of hell was through. "What's the next spell?"
The hourglass turned.
Four.
The next incantation was complicated at best, exhaustive at worst, but there were no other options.
Hermione remained just as focused as she had been from the start.
White hot magic adorned Draco's deathly pale skin, layering over the rot and trapping it in a pocket of intense energy that isolated the curse. She was nearly finished when her thoughts began shifting. They needed to determine the extent of the damage, save what they could, and grow back the rest.
Her hands shook as her anxiety spiked; her precision slipped and her spellwork wavered.
"Stay the course," Susan said. "You're almost there."
The last grains of sand drained from the top of the hourglass to mark the end of the fifth hour.
It flipped end over end once again.
Another successful spell made Hermione sag against Susan, weak from the exertion.
Relief was the terse expectancy of a new day's light.
The eager wait to once again feel the pull of Draco's presence was only beginning.
The objective was far from finished. They may have stopped the curse, and the wounds were no longer festering, but now it was time to heal. To repair.
When Hermione stepped forward, twin stubborn pillars stopped her.
"Be with him," Padma argued with a gentle hand on Draco's arm. "Let us take it from here."
Vulnera Sanentur.
It sounded like a medical melody. Haunting and healing at the same time.
The black sky beyond the window gradually dimmed to a dark grey. It was easier to watch than the scene in the room.
In her periphery, Hermione saw vials hovering in front of Padma as she worked with single-minded focus, though the signs of exhaustion were present in both her and Susan's movements.
A drop of one potion.
Two drops of another.
Three drops of a third.
On and on.
The hiss and mix of wispy smoke was a sign of healing rather than destruction.
Hermione held Draco's hand, kept warm by charms, as they carefully worked to make him whole.
The stars continued to dwindle as light bled through the clouds. Time marched to the beat of each new spell as she watched his skin knit together in broken lines. Patches of flesh grew anew, and once the process was underway, they dressed fresh wounds.
The hourglass turned once more, and they gently rolled him onto his back.
Six.
"Last time his scars were beneath his skin." Susan grimaced. "This time they'll be visible."
There was nothing wrong with scars. Draco had plenty, as did she. They were a reminder, proof of his fragility and resilience. Tangible evidence that he was stronger than the forces that tried to take him down.
Hermione always thought there was beauty to be found in destruction.
"Can we wake him up?"
Two drops of Wiggenweld Potion on Draco's tongue deepened his breathing.
Another made the colour return.
It warmed his icy skin. Brought him back to life.
Hermione watched the hourglass turn for the eighth time.
But Draco didn't wake.
The sun rose on a changed world, yet Hermione felt as though everything was standing still.
Draco remained motionless.
Theo came in and took over for the exhausted trio, running every magical test in existence to solve the mystery of why Draco hadn't woken with the potion. He left again without a word.
In the silence that followed, when Padma and Susan fell prey to sleep after the long night, fear found Hermione. It seized her mind and didn't let go. Locked in a sanctuary of solitary madness, fatigue made it impossible for her to fight off.
Tears fell like rain as doubt tainted her thoughts and regret magnified her memories.
You should have stopped like the book said.
You gave him too much.
It was too late.
Lies disguised themselves as truths.
Hermione didn't know what to believe.
Until Draco woke up, she wasn't sure if—
The door creaked open. Hermione did a double take at the sight of Charles Smith entering the room with Theo. Padma and Susan were suddenly awake, ready for the news.
"Tests are back. There's no trace of Draught of the Living Death in his system. The curse is completely gone, his vitals are stable, he's healing, and there doesn't appear to be any lasting damage to his organs."
Hermione could do nothing except breathe.
"I reviewed his brain scans." Charles approached the bedside. "Everything's normal, he's just in a deep sleep, which is a good thing. His body is exhausted from the trauma. During the test, he moved into REM sleep, which means—"
"He's dreaming!" Padma and Susan spoke as one then hugged in celebration.
"Yes, he is, and we should let him wake naturally, but he will."
Relief made Hermione sob until she laughed, and laugh until she sobbed.
Hermione healed his superficial wounds. Cuts and scrapes and bruises vanished with the swipe of her shaking fingers.
Ignoring her own exhaustion, she cleaned his face and brushed his hair with her fingers. Resting her hand over his heart, she sought comfort in the steady, rhythmic beat.
"You should sleep."
Startled by the new presence in the room, Hermione looked up as Theo sat down on the other side of the bed. Susan and Padma had just departed through the Floo to rest and give everyone at her house the update.
Theo leaned back and exhaled, looking as tired as she felt.
"Or you take the sofa and I'll stay here."
One of his eyes opened. He was unimpressed by her suggestion. "You look like hell."
"I've been busy all night." Hermione sighed. "As have you."
"At least I had enough antidotes and staff to handle the rush."
"Any word on—"
"Kingsley took a few stunners but he's fine. Harry, too. We admitted him. He was concussed with a nasty head wound. He kept calling Draco a bastard because he shoved him into a wall." Theo shrugged. "He was out of it, so I'm not sure what happened there. Ginny's with him now."
"Anything else?"
"Outside of having the pleasure of single-handedly bringing Tiberius back from the dead? No." He folded his arms, ready for an argument. "I know what he did, what he was a part of, but my oath—"
"You don't have to explain yourself, I would've done the same. Death is too easy of a punishment."
"He's under heavy guard in a private suite. Cormac, too, but he wasn't nearly as injured. Just poisoned. He tried to escape with the masses and sneak away during the chaos, but Percy stunned him."
"Good." She yawned and ignored the look Theo gave her. "I know what Charles said, but I'm officially so exhausted I can't sleep. I don't think I'll be able to until he wakes. You should go home. I'm sure you have more to do than sit here."
"I do." Theo paused. "I also know what this feels like and thought you might want a friend."
Theo stepped out after Roger came to find him.
Hermione didn't notice another visitor until hands came to rest on her shoulders.
"How is he?"
"Still sleeping." Hermione leaned into Andromeda's touch, not letting go of Draco's hand. "Where is—"
"Scorpius is here with Narcissa and Daphne. They're waiting in Theo's office. I thought I'd come first to make sure they could follow."
"I need to talk to him. I—"
"Sit." Gentle pressure kept her from rising. "Rest. Harry's up and talking to him now, giving him a very light summary."
"Harry's—"
"Doing better."
"Have you talked to Kingsley?"
"I have."
Andromeda told her that he was re-establishing order. Percy and the other department heads were with him. The death toll wasn't known, but the Ministry's holding cells were full of Death Eaters. None had escaped. They were rounding up everyone to begin a full-scale campaign on all the other hideouts and the Wizengamot wasn't putting up a fight.
It would take months to recover from this and—
"He also told me to relay a message. Your responsibility is here, not out there. And right now you need to rest. Theo told me you haven't slept."
"I can't."
Hermione woke with her hand still laced with Draco's, but there was someone else's hand resting atop theirs.
Scorpius'.
He was asleep at his father's side. Albus was curled up behind him.
She didn't remember falling asleep, only a vague recollection of Andromeda humming a tune with no words and the evidence of a haphazard braid proved it wasn't a dream.
Hermione sat up sharply. "Wh—"
"Such a determined boy." Narcissa sounded bemused. "And where one goes, the other follows."
She rose from her seat next to Daphne, who was sleeping against Harry. He was still in patient robes but had nodded off during their wait, head back, glasses askance. Narcissa approached her side, placing a hand on her shoulder, and they watched Scorpius and Albus sleeping soundly next to Draco, whose hand tightened in hers as he took a deep breath.
The movement made Hermione's heart leap.
"How are you?" Narcissa asked.
"I'm—I'm waiting."
"I'll wait with you."
Theo returned with news so rattling he couldn't speak for a full minute.
"I—hmm." He cleared his throat. "The media wants an update on Draco's condition."
That certainly wasn't what Hermione had expected to hear.
She and Narcissa exchanged confused looks. "Why?"
"There was a heavy media presence at the sentencing. A few reporters wrote articles of their experiences and interviewed witnesses, including a very injured but grateful court reporter who first asked how he was doing." He held out the paper with a visible wince. "Some photographers captured the fight, too."
On the front were Draco and Harry emerging from the poison cloud.
Together.
"They're calling him a hero."
Narcissa brightened, alight with excitement, but Hermione shook her head.
"Draco's going to hate this."
Hermione was aware the instant Draco woke up.
His vitals leapt then settled, but he didn't move.
She knew why.
There were at least ten of their friends present, each had only intended to stop by for a minute but had ended up staying. Scorpius and Al weren't yet awake, both nestled under the silencing charms placed over the transfigured bed.
Quick thinking moved everyone out of the room.
Lunch sent Daphne and Dean away with Ginny, and a change of clothes for them all drove Andromeda, Narcissa, and Pansy out of the room. Neville and Harry were harder to persuade, but she asked Harry to give Draco's team an update and Neville to check on Luna, who was at her home with Greg, the puppy, and the other worried children. Blaise left without argument but glanced at the bed with a chuckle.
He'd noticed.
When the door closed behind the last of their friends, Hermione took down the charm.
Grey eyes were on her and only her.
"Hi."
"I don't need to—"
"Shut up and get in."
With a roll of her eyes, Hermione slipped under the covers, moulding herself to his side. Draco could hardly move, stiff despite potions numbing his pain, but that didn't stop him from suffering through discomfort in order to wrap an arm around her and draw her close.
"I'm supposed to be taking care of you."
"You did." Draco's lips didn't move from her forehead. "I could hear you."
They fell into a steady rhythm of beating hearts. Each smoothed the jagged edges of her emotions. Draco kissed her slowly and Hermione let her eyes flutter shut, allowing herself to feel the swell of emotions and the return of her depleted strength.
She exhaled three words that had one meaning.
Everything.
"I love you."
They were as safe as the weight of Draco's forehead on her temple; as safe as the gravity that tethered them together.
"I love you, too."
Hermione woke to voices but didn't stir.
"…Greyback attacked two Aurors tracking him in the forest. They didn't make it."
"Where?"
"Doesn't matter. Nothing you or I can do about that now, Malfoy. You're not fit and neither am I. Hestia has a team canvassing the area for reconnaissance."
"Report back what she finds." Draco kept his voice low. "Padma taught me the incantation and the potion to mimic Granger's scent is almost ready. The traps have gotten us this far, but we need the potion to execute the plan. They shouldn't engage until the team's in place and ready to lure him out of Sherwood forest."
"I told them that." Harry paused for so long she thought he'd left. "You—you're a bloody idiot, you know that. You could have died."
"Not for the first time."
Harry barked out a laugh so dry it sounded like a curse. "You utter bastard, you shouldn't have pushed me out of the way and taken that Wasting Curse. You—"
"I do believe you mean to say thank you. I'll pretend I have no idea what you're talking about because I'm not noble enough to do something so reckless."
"You're an arse." Harry didn't mean it. "You're lucky Hermione—"
"Naturally." There was a pause. "Stop pretending to be asleep, Granger."
"I wasn't pretending." Hermione opened her eyes enough to narrow them at Draco. "The power of your friendship woke me."
It earned her scowls from both men.
After sitting up and instinctively giving Draco a medical once-over, Hermione noticed the absence of Albus and Scorpius.
"They're with Ginny." Harry filled in the blank. "Probably on their way back with food for us all. I was briefing Malfoy. And now you, too."
"On?"
"Everything. Forty dead, half are Death Eaters. Everyone who isn't vaccinated is being treated for exposure using the same method Malfoy created to treat you. Outside of that, a few Wizengamot members were seriously injured but survived. They're scheduled to sentence Tiberius again."
Hermione was almost afraid to ask, "And the Death Eaters exposed—"
"No, it appears their resistance to the poison was due to repeated exposure."
They'd built their own immunity, however painfully.
"Kingsley is adamant we won't have a repeat of what happened after the Battle of Hogwarts."
"I can—"
"Do nothing." Harry gave her a look. "Kingsley said with everything paused in the aftermath of the terror attack, he doesn't want to see any of us at work until next week when business resumes—Malfoy, longer. That is, if you're not planning on quitting now that your uncles are dead."
"Change of plans." Sharp grey eyes cut to Harry. "I'm not finished yet."
January 21, 2012
Healing never came without pain.
It was necessary.
Draco's first day home from the hospital was full of discomfort, tossing and turning in agitation. The salve he'd made to soothe her regrown skin was too harsh for him. When he finally slept with the help of pain potions, Hermione worked on something softer that would be just as effective.
Assisted by a goggled and gloved Scorpius, a curious puppy, and armed with all the knowledge she possessed and a desire to experiment, Hermione carefully worked without a book in sight.
Beneath the midday sun, they walked through the greenhouse that held nearly every herb imaginable and picked what they needed. Echinacea, calendula, bee balm, oregano, thyme, lavender, mint, and yarrow. Scorpius returned with the biggest stalk of aloe he could hold while Hermione carefully broke off a piece of the enormous cactus she ignored more often than not.
Scorpius looked at the mixture in his basket with confusion.
"We're creating something to help your dad's skin."
"A magic potion?" he asked softly, excited at the prospect of another trip to the brewing room.
"Not exactly." She fixed the strap of his overalls. "Magic can heal a lot of things, but sometimes the earth helps."
"How?"
"We'll mix fresh herbs and plants. No magic needed." Hermione offered her hand and he didn't hesitate to take it. "I'll show you."
Cutting. Mincing. Chopping. Dicing. Mixing.
Hermione worked in the kitchen, showing Scorpius how to grind herbs using a mortar and pestle then blend everything together. Without a recipe, she improvised. They were halfway through when Scorpius leaned in and inhaled.
"Smells good?"
Green, he signed with a playful expression.
"It smells green?" A smile spread across her face when he blushed. "You're right, it does. Did you know green is my favourite colour?" Scorpius nodded and she continued mixing herbs, thinking back to the one time the topic had been approached. "Let me guess, your dad told you?"
Yes. Then he looked down at his hands. You live here.
"That's why your dad says I like green?"
Scorpius nodded.
"Hand me the mint, please."
After accepting it, Hermione made quick work of cutting up the bunch and mixing it into the concoction.
"He's right. My parents used to take me camping when I was little, and like here, there's life and greenery everywhere in nature. The smell of books and grass, these are the things I love." She nudged him a tiny bit. "And you, too."
The little boy dimpled, his ears turning red. "And daddy?"
"Yes. So much that we're creating something for him, just like he has for us."
When it was ready, Scorpius sat on his knees and watched Hermione spread the mixture on the patches of Draco's inflamed skin. Cooling charms on the gauze made it easy to apply, and once she was satisfied with the results, they left A behind to nap with Draco. The puppy had hardly left his side since they'd returned home.
After a lunch of cheese toasties and tomato soup, they added today's adventure to the scrapbook of herbs and she read him a story that ended when they both dozed off in the chaise.
Hermione woke at the first sign of what was sure to be a stormy dusk, and it wasn't long before Scorpius yawned himself awake as well. They watered the plants while the rain rolled in.
Scorpius surprised her by not shuffling before asking questions about what had happened.
Why do bad people want to hurt us?
"I don't know." Momentarily surprised, Hermione took her time to answer. "It's hard to know for certain why bad people do bad things. But what I do know is that there are more good people out there than bad. Good people like the Aurors and the Task Force who fight the bad people and protect us all. That's what your dad does, and Harry, too."
Scorpius was quiet for a while.
You saved daddy?
"I did."
He watered his table garden of recovering plants before putting the watering can down to sign something else.
Scared? You?
"I was." Hermione signed back. "But I knew I needed to be brave for you both."
Scorpius stopped at the Touch-Me-Not, which didn't need watering, but he ran his fingers up the spine and watched them fold up, much like he saw Draco doing from time to time when he was deep in thought.
It was then that Hermione noticed Draco in the doorway of the conservatory holding a yawning puppy and wearing a loose shirt. Scorpius perked when his father put A down and the puppy scuttled across the floor.
"You're supposed to be resting."
"Hard to rest when I smell like the garden."
Scorpius giggled from his spot on the floor as A licked his cheek.
"Do you feel better?"
"Yes." Draco sat next to her, still ginger in all his moves. "What sort of balm is it?"
"It's not a balm. It's an herbal blend we created."
"We?"
"Mm." Hermione and Scorpius exchanged proud smiles. "Yes, we."
Draco looked between them. "What's in it?"
"Can't tell you." She leaned a little closer. "It's a secret family recipe."
"I'm sure Scorpius will share with me, won't you?"
The smile on the little boy's face faded slowly as he looked first at the puppy, then at the two of them. Rising to his feet, he shuffled like he did when he wanted to ask something he wasn't sure he had the words for.
"What is it?" Hermione asked.
Are we a real family?
The playful atmosphere sobered as Draco and Hermione looked at each other only once. After giving him a small nod, Draco gestured for his son to come closer.
"We are but there is something we want to tell you…"
January 23, 2012
The state of Roger's office was alarming; every surface was a mess of folders and parchment.
But the man himself was pristine as ever.
Hermione loitered in the doorway, unsettled by another strange sight.
Theo and Charles were occupying two of the three spare seats.
She had no idea what this meeting was regarding, only that she'd been summoned shortly after breakfast and feeding the chickens with Scorpius. Draco tried to argue that taking a meeting was no different than him taking a Floo call from his Task Force team about Greyback, but she'd won that fight.
Or rather, Narcissa had when she'd suggested Draco spend the morning with her before his appointment with Susan to check on his progress.
More than ever, Draco accepted her invitations and carefully worked to extract certain memories.
More than ever, he dedicated time to talk to her for hours.
He was trying. As was she.
And it showed in the growing ease between them, and the understanding in Draco that it was better for him to hold those good moments close. His recovery was more than physical. His attitude had begun to shift, too. It was humbling to see two people who had fought against each other for so long fight for each other.
Charles was the first to notice her. "Healer Granger."
It was a strange transition from being called Madam Undersecretary for days on end.
"I saw the meeting on my Magi-Scheduler and came over."
Only then did Hermione enter, closing the door behind her and taking the seat between the two.
"How is Draco?" Charles asked.
"Better. Regaining his strength." She appreciated his concern but turned to Roger. "Shall we? He and Narcissa are—"
"That's precisely who we're here to discuss." Roger eyed the large stack of folders cluttering his desk.
There had to be at least twenty.
"I don't understand."
"These are the references to Alternative Healing that I've received this week alone." He gestured to two other stacks that were just a high. "Those two are the ones I've received since the third of the month. And there are more incoming."
Hermione blinked. "Okay, so we're experiencing an influx, do you need me to end my medical leave early?"
"No." Theo shook his head. "What Roger is trying to say is these are new patients with the same or similar symptoms to Narcissa. All attributed their symptoms to age, but in light of Parvati's in depth article on her illness, people are now asking to come in and have tests run. Some had other issues that warranted different treatment, but these are the ones we've diagnosed with the same form of dementia."
The media had been supportive of Narcissa in the last few weeks, commending her on her poise and grace in the face of mortality. Her bravery was a badge of honour for how well she'd managed to keep herself together while living with her disease.
Still, the amount of new cases was staggering.
Hermione stared between the stacks. "This is too much for one department to handle."
"We have two new Healers coming to the research program," Roger said. "Healer Smith has recruited a few members of his team to join our department in the coming months as well. And from what I understand, you and Draco are brewing more of the experimental potion."
"That's correct." Hermione sat back, arms folded, curiously looking across the desk at Roger.
Draco had bottled a batch the night before and she'd assisted because he'd gotten tired in the middle of the process. "I don't understand why I'm here exactly."
"We just wanted to discuss your plans and keep you informed about ours."
"I'm going back to Healer Academy for a shift in specialties. I've enrolled in courses that begin in March. The expedited track should have me finished by the end of the year. I'll need a mentor—"
"You already have one." Charles gave her a look, then a smile that she returned.
"I didn't want to assume."
"It would be an honour, Healer Granger."
A quiet moment passed that left Hermione humbled, thinking back to their very first Floo call that had led to many more. All at different hours, different days, sometimes in the middle of the night. He never turned her away. Not once. And he'd been the first to truly help, to teach and guide her. It was nice that their relationship wouldn't change in that aspect.
Charles was a wealth of knowledge she was eager to learn from.
"In the meantime," Roger shifted in his seat. "I think it would be wise for you to attend bi-weekly meetings like this to keep you up to date. Theo tells me you're assisting Kingsley in the Ministry part-time."
"I am, but only until we find a candidate for Undersecretary."
There were a few applications from overseas beginning to filter in. Hermione had yet to narrow the field, but there were enough options to begin considering who would be the best fit. She hadn't been to her office since the attack; the Ministry was shut down to be decontaminated with only essential personnel allowed on site—personnel that had to be vaccinated before entering. Theo's teams had been working around the clock producing vaccines and antidotes.
"Draco and I had begun discussing a theoretical approach to add to the existing potion. Now that we know, in some way, it slows the progression of the disease, we'll investigate additional possibilities to expand upon that." Charles informed her of something she hadn't quite realised. "He has made several doses for his mother in the coming months, but I know little of his plans to propagate the ingredients."
"We're growing most of them in our greenhouse, but we're in the process of forming a partnership with the University that would be beneficial. Draco's family has seeds and plants from extinct species that the University will begin to propagate in nature. One being the Silphium plant we use in the potion. It'll be a couple of years in the making, and until then our capacity is limited by how much we can safely harvest, but in the future, we'll expand."
"He's already started," Charles said. "He gave me the patent and plans to teach me how to brew it so that I may teach others."
Roger scratched his chin. "Will there be enough to start treating a few others with it now?"
"I doubt it. The new patients would need to receive the normal treatment course first, and longevity is a concern, not to mention the—" Hermione frowned as a thought sprang forth. "Wait, are we taking on all these patients?"
"Yes," Theo answered slowly, almost as if he knew what she'd say—or how much she would argue against it. "I know your opinion on this. Your care with Narcissa was extremely hands on, but given all we've learned, we can lean heavier on the therapy aspect while facilitating Floo calls with their assigned Healers rather than in person care. At least until they make the move. Then we'll be able to better manage."
Hermione didn't like it. "The basis of my care wasn't just the patients, but also their families—"
"I know. Which is why Charles will be hosting group meetings with the patients' families to answer questions. Narcissa has volunteered to attend when she's able."
Hermione inhaled sharply, startled by the news.
"Why would she do that?" Roger asked.
She wanted to know the answer to that as well.
"Narcissa is… " Charles chuckled. "This was all her idea. She's also allotted a large sum to support the families who cannot afford the potions or make the changes needed in their homes, and a substantial amount more towards the research for the cure."
Hermione was stunned.
"She's convinced Draco to allow a company to use his charm to create other tracking objects specifically designed for dementia patients, too, like the one he placed on her necklace. It proved useful more than a few times during her episodes." Theo settled back in his seat. "I'm working on that. Companies are sending proposals."
So much was changing.
Even if it was too late to save herself, Narcissa would fight to the end while making peace with her circumstances.
Still, Hermione had to wonder if Draco wasn't the only one creating a legacy. She had to wonder if Narcissa had taken a quiet note from her son and began to cement her own, even in the face of mortality. She had to wonder if this was another memory Narcissa wanted to leave behind.
A single act that could save many.
Something stronger than her place in society.
Something unforgettable.
Hope.
January 31, 2012
Even though it wouldn't happen until at least after Easter, Scorpius was practising for their first day of real school.
He chose to wear his uniform of grey trousers and bowtie, a button down white shirt, and a navy jumper. A fresh haircut—done the day before by Daphne while he glared at a laughing Pansy—made him look a bit more severe, but he liked a clean part. And the backpack he didn't need just yet held an array of supplies and snacks.
Hermione smiled and held out her hand. "Are you ready?"
He was.
After saying goodbye to Mint and hugging the confused puppy, all three set off for the makeshift classroom surrounded by plant life in the greenhouse.
All three Potters plus Catherine awaited him.
They had underestimated Scorpius.
School had begun in earnest in the days since Draco's return home, and the secret they'd asked Scorpius to keep remained just that—a secret. The first day had been the most nerve-racking, Hermione returned home, expecting their news to be out, but nothing had come of it. Today was day four and she was finally growing comfortable with the possibility of not having to explain anything to anyone.
Not that they'd gotten very good practise with Scorpius.
He'd taken the news much like he reacted to most things—very matter-of-fact.
Like getting married was the natural next step in the process of solidifying the bond they already shared.
He wasn't wrong, but it had left Hermione and Draco exchanging puzzled looks. Then shrugs.
From the greenhouse, she and Draco walked through the pasture together in a new low-impact activity as part of Draco's recovery; he still couldn't swim for another couple of weeks. The morning air was damp and fresh, A was running around free, and the sun was shining behind grey clouds.
"Scorpius asked about building a treehouse. Any idea why?"
Outside of his fondness for climbing, based on the wall he worked to conquer every other day, Hermione could think of only one reason: "I remember Albus wanting a treehouse to celebrate making it to the trees."
Something he did regularly now, each time less fearful and more confident.
Draco looked like he'd bitten into a rotten lemon. "Must it be here?"
"Yes."
Rolling his eyes, Draco continued on.
"Don't think I don't know you're out here checking the wards." Hermione nudged him.
"I wasn't trying to be subtle."
"I know, just like I know what you and Harry talk about now that he's been allowed back to work and is handling your duties in your absence."
"How did—"
"Being allowed back in my office has proved beneficial." Hermione preened. "Although, I do wonder if canvassing for Greyback is part of your duties? Because Harry's definitely taken on that role in your absence."
"It is." Draco squinted at her.
"The potion is ready and I know they've been conducting controlled experiments in Sherwood forest to lure him out. I know something is coming, and I—"
"You've only been back at the Ministry one day."
"I'm productive." Hermione offered a smile she knew was irritating. "One might say I—"
"No." Draco took one look at her and frowned. "I already know what you're thinking and I'm not eager to live through another encounter between you and Greyback."
Hermione clenched her jaw, adjusting her grip on his arm. "That was an exception, not the rule."
"The exception had me finding pieces of you—"
"Another exception had you dropping into the conservatory with a Wasting Curse eating away at your skin and bones, Draco."
"That was different."
"How exactly? I know what we agreed to before, that one of us needs to stay behind. I know why, but this is an entirely different situation. It won't be an ambush, at least on our part. I know Padma taught you the spell that temporarily turns a werewolf back into a human. I've heard enough of the plan, and it's solid. All of this could—"
"Granger."
Hermione looked ahead at the approaching trees and inhaled the crisp morning air. "It appears we've already reached an impasse before the argument began."
"No, we haven't. Because this isn't an argument."
"Oh? You don't want me involved and I refuse to sit this out." She couldn't hold back her frustration. "What happened at the park showed me that we're better when we actively work together. It's when we split up or when we're ambushed that everything goes to shite."
He made a small noise.
"Don't shut me out." Hermione turned and held his gaze. "Greyback is my fight just as much as he's yours, if not more. I'm not a damsel in distress, Draco. I'm—"
"The source of my stress. Trust me, I know."
Hermione almost laughed at how put out he sounded but she couldn't.
Not when she had more to say.
"Greyback—he robbed me of my peace of mind and my sense of security. My independence. The nightmares aren't as bad anymore, but I deserve the chance to take back some of the control I lost." She stopped walking when he did. "You and Harry have already worked out an agreement. I only want to be part of it. I want to contribute. You said it yourself, I'm—"
"Obstinate, reckless, and dangerous with any spell that involves maximum damage with minimum effort."
Her smile grew. "All compliments."
A quirk of humour flashed before sentiment settled and Draco's expression turned serious. "You should know I never intended to shut you out. I planned on briefing you when we had something more concrete than sightings, like if he began to move in the direction they're leading him in when the potion was tested later this week. Perhaps when we were closer to triangulating his area."
Oh. "And if I hadn't pressed the issue or insisted?"
"I wouldn't have either. But given who you are, I already knew the likelihood of your silence on the matter was slim."
Hermione chuckled as she looked back at the house.
"Andromeda and your mother will be around for tea soon enough." At least, they would if today was a better day than the one before.
"Now that you're done fussing, it would be a shame to waste this moment alone." Draco draped an arm over her shoulder and pulled her to his side. "They're exceedingly rare these days."
"We just had a moment alone this morning." And their soak in the clawfoot tub after had left them scrambling to dress and get ready before Scorpius woke up.
"I'm greedy." The murmured words tickled her temple before he kissed it. "You know this."
"I do." And so was she.
Their lips met in a languid kiss, teasingly slow and luxurious in the stolen moment of serenity before what was sure to be a long day. Only then did Draco let her pull him back along the path in the dormant grass. A loud whistle from Draco brought A running in their direction. When he caught up, Draco didn't miss a beat, picking up the puppy as he pointedly ignored Hermione's chuckle.
"You're spoiling him, you know."
"He's tired." A's tongue hung loose from the side of his mouth as Draco scratched his chin. "It's a long walk back to the house. No harm in helping him."
"Remember that when he's a hundred pounds."
Draco quirked a brow at her. "Feather-light charms aren't especially complicated."
Well, he wasn't wrong.
Zippy was serving tea to Andromeda and Narcissa when they entered the home. Draco and Hermione joined the sisters after declining a cup from the elf. Draco reviewed a stack of parchments from the table while A napped in the middle of the sunny conservatory, then he offered them to Zippy with an approving nod.
"Draco, what are those for?" Narcissa asked.
"Business with the other properties."
"What business could you possibly have with the—"
"Warding." Draco cleared his throat. "In preparation for a few tours in the summer."
Grey eyes widened a fraction before he settled back into his normal demeanour.
But it was too late.
Today was a good day for his mother, and Hermione could see the wheels in Narcissa's head turning.
Andromeda's, too.
"The only reason you would need to—" Narcissa squinted exactly like Scorpius whenever Pansy got too close. "Draco, is there something you wish to tell me?"
Once again, Hermione was looking back and forth between a mother and son. Only now, Andromeda was staring at her, too—with a growing realisation.
Well, some secrets couldn't last forever.
"I may be losing my faculties but I am far from a fool. Draco, did you not explain to Miss Granger what this means?"
"She's aware." Draco met his mother's challenging gaze. "Mother…"
Narcissa turned to Hermione. "The only reason Draco would need to tour the properties is to introduce the elves to their new Mistress, which means—"
"We're engaged," Draco said, rather ineloquently.
The room was very quiet.
"Oh my." Andromeda sounded vastly entertained.
Finite Incantadem revealed her ring.
Narcissa said nothing for a full minute while Hermione and Draco glanced at each other in silent conversation.
Hermione's head tilt meant: well?
Draco's slight shrug said: it could have been worse.
Narcissa finally placed her hands on the table and exhaled after taking a deep breath.
"I have stated countless times that Draco must marry, that it is my wish, but seeing him and Scorpius happy here has made me realise my error."
It was the last comment Hermione expected.
Draco peered at his mother as if he didn't recognise her. "Are you saying—"
"Miss Granger has told me several things with varying degrees of exasperation and anger over the length of our association, but perhaps she was right. Marriage does not guarantee stability or even happiness. It is not a remedy to loneliness. I—" Narcissa touched her necklace. "I do not know why I am saying this, or why I would dream of discouraging you from the one thing I wanted most, but if you are doing this because of me. Well…"
"We're not." Of that, Hermione was certain. "Perhaps when I first approached the topic, it was about giving you some peace on the matter, but—"
"I wanted it to be real." A deep sincerity touched Draco's voice. He didn't show this side of himself often, and it left everyone suspended in the silence that followed. "Not only is it real, but it's also a purely selfish choice. On both of our parts."
The corners of Andromeda's lips twitched.
Narcissa continued to stare at her son.
"I—" Hermione paused. "You told me loving Lucius was a choice and I understand that more than ever now. It's one Draco and I make even when we're frustrated with each other." Her eyes wandered to the man sitting beside her, the man who was watching her with curious intensity. "Especially then, if I'm being honest. Each day this feels less like a choice and more like an inevitability." Like gravity. "It just… happened."
"Now who's sentimental?" Draco's eyes searched hers before he smirked. "Weren't you just berating me about—"
"I was, and I'll continue to aggravate you forever. Do you have a point?"
"I—No." Draco rose slowly to his feet, still stiff but far more fluid than days before. "I must be off. I have therapy with Bones shortly and Granger has thirty minutes before her Floo briefing with Kingsley about the list of volunteers to put out the fire next week." His amusement was evident in a mischievous grin as he kissed Hermione's cheek and bid his mother and aunt goodbye. "Have fun."
Oh.
Oh no.
A smile crept across Narcissa's face. Like a spider with prey tangled in its web, the older witch knew she had Hermione cornered.
"Oh." Hermione tried to stand, but her knees met the table's edge and the teacups rattled on their saucers. She sat back, trying again to grasp for a swift exit strategy. "I… only just remembered I have to call Padma. Her wedding is this weekend, and uh—"
"Never mind that." Narcissa, emboldened by the growing look of horror on Hermione's face, leaned forward with interest. "All that can wait. We must get a start on plans right away. Basic ideas, at the very least."
"Thirty minutes can't hurt." Andromeda grinned. "Draco said you're available."
"Et tu?" Hermione had never felt more betrayed. "Really?"
"What? Dare to dream." She thumbed over to Narcissa. "Or indulge hers."
"No need for the dramatics, Miss Granger." Narcissa took a delicate sip of her tea. "I only wish to discuss the most mundane things today. Seasons, colours, things of the like. It should not take long at all. A summer wedding would be beautiful…"
Hermione was late to her meeting.
February 3, 2012
Scorpius Malfoy was a people person.
At least, to a certain extent. And for certain people.
He craved the company of those who mattered to him, and he was polite to those who didn't, but there was some barrier between just enough people and too many. As for the exact number of that transition, Hermione wasn't sure, but at the elaborately decorated welcome feast, Scorpius found his threshold. Within the span of breath, he went from shyly waving at the long line of arriving guests with his father and the entire wedding party to fusing himself against Hermione's side.
She suspected it had a lot to do with the attention; too much of it and he would clam up and wilt. There were well over a hundred people in attendance. Not that she could blame the guests for their coos of adoration. Scorpius looked adorable in his burnt orange kurta and the oversized sunglasses Blaise slipped onto his face at the last minute.
Despite clinging to her silk turquoise saree the entire night, he seemed to enjoy the festivities. The dancing entertained him and even as a normally picky eater, he hummed his appreciation for the food. The music he clapped along with, and the culture he was experiencing for the first time with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes.
It was magical to witness.
With her there, he didn't mind the other guests or the unfamiliar sights. Scorpius laughed loudly upon seeing his father dance for the first time, and smiled when one of Padma's aunts referred to him as Hermione's son while complimenting their appearance.
Hermione didn't correct her.
There was no need.
"Thank you."
She'd done a little reading on the wedding festivities and could explain some things to the confused little boy, but not everything needed words when the example of love and two families unifying was all around them.
Fireworks lit up the sky, and the only proof of Draco's presence—as he was off with the wedding party and the parents of the bride and groom completing smaller rituals—was the silence that fell the moment it started. He'd done the same for Scorpius, from wherever he was, and in peace, they watched the show in silent wonder.
Adequate words did not exist to express how she felt with the warm weight of a sleepy Scorpius in her arms and the brilliant display of magic lighting up the sky.
A low conversation by the Floo resulted in Scorpius deciding to spend the rest of the weekend with the other children at the Burrow. Molly was still awake when Hermione delivered him, but Scorpius was not. He only barely opened his eyes as she laid him next to Albus, and was asleep again before the door closed behind her.
February 4, 2012
Hermione imagined a nice weekend alone with Draco in their rooms at Zabini Manor, but in reality, wedding party duties meant no opportunity to take advantage of their suite.
The first time she saw Draco that morning was after the private sunrise Tilak ceremony, which ended with Blaise emerging with the physical proof of Padma's father's blessing: a dot of red Kumkum paste on his forehead.
He was on his way to the Kelvan ritual, which he and Theo decided to attend with Blaise, who had no brothers, but the sight of Draco in a simple light blue sherwani and an ivory churidar measured to precision made Hermione retract every condescending thought she'd ever had about Parvati objectifying him all those months ago.
"I was right, wasn't I?" Parvati nudged her in the ribs, then fixed a bit of her lavender saree that had gone awry. "I'll leave you to ogle him in peace while I flaunt my fit as fuck date around all the naysayers at lunch after prayer."
"Fit?" Hermione cocked a brow. "I see things are going well."
"Nobody is more surprised than me." She eyed Charlie, who'd cleaned up well in a green kurta and was standing between Percy and Lee Jordan. "I'm beginning to understand the appeal of a man whose single pursuit is me."
Hermione chuckled and watched her saunter off before following the visual trail back to Draco.
In a moment of quiet honesty, she could admit that it wasn't just the traditional robes that drew her attention the entire day, even as she was surrounded by friends.
It was Draco Malfoy embracing his role as a groomsman: socialising, comfortably speaking Hindi, and wearing so much colour.
It was Draco Malfoy exemplifying his knowledge about each traditional magical aspect of the ceremony.
It was Draco Malfoy running perfect interference with Theo on Mrs Zabini when she so much as stepped a toe out of line.
Like so many other things in his life, Hermione knew his actions were born from a sense of duty, though this time it was to his friend rather than his family. But part of her had to quietly wonder if his wholehearted dedication was also an exercise in avoidance and distraction. They hadn't talked much about what would be happening on Monday morning.
Extinguishing the fire.
Hermione had forgotten about all of that by the time she stood in front of Draco, each holding a Mango leaf they'd used to cover Blaise and Padma in turmeric paste during the joint Halad Chadavane ceremony.
She'd seen so much of his competence and selectively-aimed charm at play that it left her visibly flustered.
"You look…" Draco's eyes wandered down today's saree. "Bahut khoobsoorat."
That one she knew. Very beautiful.
When Draco left with Blaise and Theo, a cackling Ginny handed her a glass of ice water.
"You look parched." Pansy looked like the cat that ate the canary.
"If Draco asks, I've stepped out to cool down."
He would know where to find her.
Unfortunately, Hermione's plan to end up in the infamous reading area while everyone celebrated was foiled by Padma's surprise request to join her for the Mehndi ritual that evening.
"You said you wanted those closest to you there. I—"
"So much has changed." As Padma took Hermione's hands, the cool glass from her green bangles brushed against her skin. "Which is why I'd like you there."
The ritual went on for hours.
Everyone in attendance sang, danced, ate, and chatted while Padma's grandmother used Mehndi and magic to draw intricate designs and ancient runes on her granddaughter's hands and feet. Entranced, Hermione watched her friend's skin glow with the symbols of her family's acceptance and best wishes. Something peaceful settled over Padma as the older witch weaved magic in a language Hermione couldn't speak.
But she recognised the runes.
Their language was universal.
Love. Happiness. Prosperity. Joy. Fertility.
Mrs Zabini frowned in distaste at everything, but was too polite to decline Padma's mother's offering to do the same with different runes. There were so many aunts and cousins present that no one was left out.
Hermione had little recollection of time passing in the electric atmosphere.
Parvati whinged but eagerly held out both hands to whom she'd declared her favourite aunt. And when six of their aunts and cousins turned to the rest of their friend group, Pansy, Luna, Daphne, and Ginny were quick to accept. Susan was hesitant. Both Hermione and Cho tried to decline.
But in the end, they all agreed together.
"We'll hide your love's name in the Mehndi and when you see them, turn it into a game."
"I…" Cho's smile faded. "Love is confusing right now… It's something I can neither cry or smile about."
Hermione was struck by her honesty.
"But I've spent a lot of time with myself, rebuilding and loving who I've become, letting go of my anger and bitterness. I don't know where I'm going but maybe…" She exhaled as the first runes drawn on her hand began to glow. "I'll close my eyes and you can draw my name in the Mehndi. I'll find it myself."
Because she loved herself.
"I can do that." Padma's cousin flashed a sincere smile.
Relaxed from the ritual, Hermione stared at Cho for so long it earned her a strange look. "What?"
"I know we aren't close, but maybe going forward we can change that."
Cho's smile grew slowly. "I'd like that very much."
February 5, 2012
Draco was already gone when she woke, but he'd left a cup of tea.
Green tea for the energy Hermione would ultimately need to get through the day.
The ceremony was just as beautiful as their greenhouse elopement.
Once the auspicious silk shawl that hung between them while a priest chanted fell away, Blaise and Padma only had eyes for each other. Nothing else in the entire world mattered.
Not Padma's deep scar proudly on display, even with the Mundavalya on her head.
Not when they were nearly blinded by the shower of Akshata.
Not during the mishap that occurred while the two exchanged garlands and nearly knocked Blaise's Pheta off.
Hermione's eyes were on Draco during the ceremony. While the bride and groom took seven rounds around the holy fire and warm magic filled the air, for the first time, she allowed herself to think about what their ceremony would entail.
No, she wouldn't be wearing a silk Paithani saree like Padma, but something light and ivory. Instead of a cream, red and gold kurta like Blaise, maybe she could convince Draco to wear something other than black.
Maybe. A smile twitched at her lips. She doubted it.
Ever-observant, Draco quirked a brow at her.
Hermione's thoughts carried her through the rest of the ceremony and into the reception, drifting to Draco, whose eyes fell on her more times than she could count. He was busy with groomsmen activities but she knew one thing.
He liked her lehenga.
It was elaborate for her tastes, but Hermione had to admit she liked the way it made her feel. Pastel green, it had a floral design studded across the bottom. By the time Draco finally found her and dropped a warm hand on a curve of bare skin, she was mid-conversation with two Patil cousins, one very amused Pansy, and both Greg and his petite wife, Dahlia, who had a laugh ten times the size of her body.
She reminded Hermione of Luna, which was fitting as the two bonded immediately upon their introduction.
Polite yet dry, Draco smoothly extracted Hermione from the conversation and had the decency not to give the men a look cold enough to stop time. He led her in the direction of the wedding party table with two words in greeting.
Both short and sweet.
"We're eloping."
Though it had been a beautiful process of joining—not just two people, but their entire families—Hermione couldn't agree more.
Dinner was an elaborate affair that led right into dancing around an ecstatic bride and groom. Hermione lost track of everyone as the floor crowded, but she noted Cho and Theo talking alone and thought it curious before Draco whispered something that pulled her into action.
"Follow me."
Hermione lingered a polite length of time before following him out through the great doors.
Draco was waiting for her by the window in a very familiar place. The open reading area was just as she remembered it, save for tonight's addition of floating diyas. Candlelight cast dancing shadows across the shelves, highlighting Draco's figure as he feigned interest in whatever book was open in his hands. But his lack of glasses meant he couldn't read a word and was being dramatic just for the sake of appearances.
He certainly made quite the visual.
Like the rest of the wedding party, he'd changed out of his ceremony garb and into something more fitting for the reception: a darker grey, long-sleeved sherwani with a lighter grey and navy kurta beneath that bore a floral design. His long legs erred on the side of excess in the churidar that was fitted in all the right places. If it was any less alluring, she might have been aggravated that he managed to look handsome in any attire.
"Your thoughts are loud."
"They are." Hermione couldn't settle her mind if she tried. "We have a long day tomorrow."
"It's delayed due to rain. I received word this morning. We can pick up Scorpius in the morning rather than tonight."
Delay wasn't denial; the gathering at the Manor was still happening, but picking up Scorpius in the morning hadn't been part of the plan.
"Oh?"
"We can—"
"Let me guess, we can enjoy a selfish night. Wait—" Hermione slowed down and remembered what she'd learned. "Profiter... d'une soirée... égoïste."
"Tu t'es entraînée." Draco's playful tone was more sweet than sinful but her pulse fluttered nonetheless.
Yes, she had been practising; she was eager to learn, eager to spend another Christmas in the mountains with him and Scorpius without the need for a full-time translator.
"J'ai un bon professeur."
The compliment on his teaching skills made him smirk, but it faded as his gaze dropped to the intricate patterns weaved across her arm.
"I see you."
Three words stole her breath.
Standing in front of him, she was open, overexposed, but the weight of his stare was anything but agitating.
"Do you?" It was emboldening. "What do you see?"
Each step brought her closer. He waited until she was within arm's length before his fingertips found her bare skin once again. It only lasted for a second. Moving to her shoulders, he traced the dark henna design, in search of where she'd hidden her heart.
First, he found Scorpius in the Mehndi on her right palm.
A carnation in full bloom.
Then, he found himself hidden in the runes on the back of her left hand.
A crescent moon.
Still locked in an orbital dance with the Earth beneath it, their definition of gravity had been given a new meaning in this design. No longer held at arm's length, like this, they were together.
Eternally.
Distant echoes of the party filtered through the corridors, but Hermione ignored them when Draco drew her closer. Her shoulders tensed as his grin softened into a smile of understanding.
Draco tilted her chin up and brushed his lips over hers, murmuring, "Are you going to tell me no?"
She nipped his bottom lip. "No, but as a warning, I'm not wearing any—"
Draco swallowed her words with a deep kiss, groaning at the taste of her.
They made it no farther than where they stood.
Confident hands wound under her lehenga, while hers made quick work untying his churidar and yanking it down. One leg hooked around his waist, the other tilted up on tiptoes against the floor; the light material of her lehenga slid up, inviting him to come closer. And he did. The tip of his cock pressed against her core on a inhale, then he sank inside on her exhale.
"Shhh." Draco's voice was thick and smooth like whisky. "Someone might hear you."
That was… exhilarating.
Draco tested her ability to hold back, and she had never cared less about failing in spectacular fashion. But the music drowned out every noise—the moans and groans, whispers and demands paled in comparison to the symphony of celebration.
Breathing each other in, they lost all sense of their surroundings. Hermione rushed headlong into agonising oblivion with each of Draco's sharp, brutal strokes.
She was on the edge, already ready to burn for sweet release. It had been a long few days, and this slice of solace was steeped in a weekend's worth of longing to be near him for more than a few minutes at a time. He picked her up, taking the last thread of her control with him, and pressed her back against the shelves.
"Driving. Me. Mad." Each word was a scrape of teeth against her neck. "Fuck, Hermione. I'm—"
"Harder." Carving her crescent-shaped signature into the nape of his neck, she gasped, "Yes. Just like th—"
Fisting his hair, pleasure snapped her spine.
Hermione took Draco over the edge with her. Her name on his lips melted into a slow, sweet kiss.
But euphoria didn't last.
Between the end of one song and the start of the next, they heard two sets of heels on the hardwood. Two voices laughing and talking. Two people—approaching.
Their eyes widened in a mix of humour and horror as they scrambled apart.
A comedy of errors ensued as Draco tripped over his own two feet and Hermione snagged her lehenga trying to retrieve her wand from its hidden pocket.
They were both lounging on the sofa by the time Pansy and Daphne appeared arm in arm. All looked normal enough—or close to it. Draco had a book in his lap to cover his untied churidar and Hermione had an excuse on the tip of her tongue as to why one heel was by the window and the other was on her foot.
Pansy's eyes narrowed into slits without hesitation. "Tell me you didn't."
When Draco choked back a laugh, Hermione smiled and said, "We didn't."
February 7, 2012
The fire was still alive.
From the top of a nearby hill, the warded dome shimmered like a child's snow globe. Yet the scene inside the magical boundary was anything but innocent. Roaring flames echoed loud enough to reach where Hermione stood with her arm looped through Draco's. They watched in silent reverie for the last time as flames licked the outline of the wards that had stood the test of time.
Hermione's eyes travelled to the faceless crowd surrounding the once grand home—some they knew, most they didn't.
Everyone was there for one purpose.
Extinguishing the flames.
The wards flickered only once before dissolving in a dazzling display of light.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing but silence.
No one dared to breathe.
A deafening roar tore through the air as the Fiendfyre arced newly-freed arms of flames outward, reaching for anything it could touch.
Spreading in all directions, it attacked. Mutating into a fiery beast, it rose higher than the structure it had been confined to for so long. Shaken from their initial stupor, the crowd fanned out. Narcissa gasped. Hermione's grip on Draco's arm tightened to keep him in place.
The ground beneath their feet shook. Her ears felt as though they were about to explode.
The flames intensified, fed by the oxygen and magic. The Fiendfyre's heat radiated all the way up the hill and the power of its anger rattled the earth.
But when they regrouped, they all had their orders. Some went on the offensive, flinging counter-spells and advancing, while others strategically hung back.
The fire fight lasted well past the peak of day, leaving the sun obscured by a blanket of smoke.
Ash covered everything—what was once green now looked like the surface of the moon. Devoid of life. And though the sight was forever burned into Hermione's memory, it was the smell—the combination of sulphur and magic—that left her dizzy in the hours that followed.
But she didn't flinch. She didn't cover her nose and mouth like Andromeda and Narcissa when it became too much.
No. Hermione stood beside Draco, and they watched favour swing back and forth like a pendulum between the fighters and the flames. But magic was no match for those who could wield it and wrestle it into submission. The fire grew weaker with each spell cast.
Draco's hand shook despite his face remaining carefully blank as the last of the flames were extinguished.
Silence sat heavy in the aftermath.
Plumes of smoke sent their offerings to the skies in pillars.
Memories laid bare in the wreckage.
A low groan cracked the quiet, and she was reminded that the Manor had only been held together by cursed flames and magic. It finally started to creak and crumble, just as it was meant to years ago when the stasis wards were placed.
The Manor was reduced to rubble in minutes with a resounding crash.
A pained sob ripped through the air.
Heart-wrenching and raw, it was hard to tell if Narcissa's cry was from sorrow or relief. Draco let go of Hermione's hand and hugged his mother close, then tighter as her legs went weak.
Hermione looked to the ashy sky to keep her own emotions in check.
She didn't know how long they stood there. Time was marked only by the uneven sniffling of Narcissa regaining her composure. Years of waiting had led to this moment; she had no intention of rushing the family staring down the smouldering ruins of their legacy.
When Hermione next looked around, the volunteers were gone—likely back to the restaurant Draco had rented out for the day in Diagon Alley.
Only four remained.
Hermione lingered with Andromeda as the Malfoys decided to make the haunting walk to the grounds where their home once stood.
"I heard this was your doing." Andromeda wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders as they waited. "Kingsley told me this was what you wanted out of helping the restoration."
"It was." Hermione looked down. "Draco and I came here in August and I—hindsight is always so clear. I didn't—" She looked at the mother and son staring at the rubble that was once their home. "All Draco could see then was destruction. He felt trapped by the fire, held in stasis by the flames, and I-I wanted to show him that he wasn't. To give him a chance to create something of his own."
"He has."
This place had seen death and sadness, was reduced to charred remains, but a light breeze shook a layer of ash from the trees. It was a reminder that the land hadn't died. Nature persisted. The grounds would remain, forever infused with memories of happiness and sorrow, life and loss.
The change of seasons would bring new growth from the decay.
Narcissa couldn't stay much longer. She and Andromeda left together with a small pop.
For what felt like hours, Draco walked the area with his hands behind his back, carefully stepping on broken wood beams and charred brick. Only the foundation survived. Hermione dissipated enough of the ash cloud for the sun to shine on the space. Grey eyes landed on her in invitation and an outstretched hand beckoned.
She joined him in the centre of the rubble.
It didn't take long for Draco to break the silence. "You're in awe of all this."
"I am," Hermione answered honestly. "You know me, I see beauty in everything."
"Ever the optimist."
"To balance your pessimism." She cleared a spot in the rubble with her foot. "But I wonder how truly pessimistic you are. Creation is an act of letting go and you're doing just that—you've been doing that. Only now, you're choosing the unknown instead of the known. You're thinking of more than Scorpius' future, you're thinking of your own."
"You've been a terrible influence."
"Or the best." Hermione smiled when she felt him behind her. She leaned back against his chest as his arms wound around her shoulders. "Not that you'll admit it."
"I won't."
But in saying that, he did. And they both knew it.
Draco took her hand and led the way, clearing a path in the wreckage for them to stand on even ground. When he stopped, so did she.
"What is it?"
"A lot has happened here, but without the walls, it's hard to remember." His following chuckle was dry if a little sad. "My father died here and I thought I'd remember exactly where he stood when I last saw him, but now that I'm here, I can't rebuild the layout in my mind."
"Maybe it's better this way."
Draco made a small noise and turned his back to her. "I thought I'd feel something different than I do now."
"What do you feel?"
"Relief."
The sun caught his face and Draco closed his eyes in the warmth, inhaling the breeze.
Hermione wondered if he could finally understand the beginning found in each end.
"We can stay as long as you'd like."
"We can go." Draco looked around one last time and exhaled. "I'm ready."
Clouds hung low and lazy over the Earth. The sky darkened as night drew near.
The storm building wasn't outside. It lived within Draco.
Whatever peace he'd found earlier was challenged by a restlessness that had no name.
Hermione wasn't the only one who had sensed it. A lot of sleeve-tugging and long looks had preceded Scorpius dragging his father into the kitchen after dinner and a climb up the newly created wall on the side of the house.
His only request had been signed. Bake with us, please.
Not something they did often or for the reward of sweets, but Scorpius had begun to adopt her habit of wanting to make something when he felt frustrated and needed some semblance of distraction.
And he wanted his father to do the same.
So they made a sad, lemon meringue pie.
Draco's assistance was begrudging at best until Scorpius' glare softened his father's hard edges enough for active participation. Kneading dough, cracking eggs, and testing Hermione's French while the pie baked improved Draco's mood. It was further lifted when his mother, Andromeda, Pansy, and Daphne all came over to enjoy the impromptu dessert.
Alone again, with Scorpius asleep and little A tucked in beside him—his storm brewed, barely concealed beneath the surface of composure.
Hermione observed him from the entrance to the conservatory. In no hurry to intrude, she left to make them both drinks to give him time with his thoughts. The success of the day weighed heavy on him, equally with grief and relief, but that wasn't the only thing on his mind.
Ignored since he'd declined Kingsley, the parchment made a reappearance two days ago and had followed him through every room in the house since. When she returned, drinks in hand, Draco was once again reading over the offer. Then he put it down, took off his glasses, and turned to the star-filled sky beyond the glass above him.
Hermione knew the reason for the parchment's re-emergence.
Kingsley needed an answer.
"I brought you a drink."
Whisky for his troubles and wine for her resolve—something a little robust she'd chosen from the part of Narcissa's collection that had made its way to their home.
They drank on the sofa in silence, enjoying each other's presence with her legs draped over his lap. Draco's free hand was on her thigh, his thumb absently swiping back and forth. It was hard to believe she'd once hated these silent moments; they were now some of her favourites.
Their second drink was enjoyed in front of the window.
There was no third.
Hermione felt good with Draco's arms around her, leaning against him as they watched the sky.
When he rested his chin on the crown of her head, she asked, "How are you?"
"Better."
Hermione turned her back to the pasture illuminated by the moon nearing its peak to face the storm inside the conservatory.
"Any news from your team tracking Greyback?"
"With the full moon so close, I didn't send them out."
"Good." That narrowed her mental list of his worries. "Still looking for someone to take your seat?"
His gaze remained focused on the moon. "I am."
"Hmm. I know you're making a list of candidates, which is efficient. I just think—"
"You're probing."
"I am." A hand on his jaw drew his eyes to hers. When Draco drank, his cheeks took on a charming pinkish hue. "I told you we would revisit this conversation. You won't find what you're looking for in any candidate's profile."
"Granger…"
"It's you." The sweep of Hermione's thumb across his cheek was affection incarnate. "It has always been you. There is no better option available. And what's worse is that you know it. You have known it since he asked, but you're too—"
"Realistic? No one wants to see a Malfoy in any aspect of government, much less the Wizengamot."
"Maybe not any Malfoy, no. But as it stands, you happen to be rather well liked—especially right now."
Judging from his sour expression and the way he'd been dodging interview requests, he couldn't stand it. Draco scowling at Parvati when she asked on behalf of her colleagues was amusing to everyone except the parties directly involved.
He cleared his throat and looked away. "I'm certain they'll wake up and remember I'm—"
"You."
Draco took a deep breath, but said nothing more as he returned to the sofa. Hermione remained firmly in her spot, watching and waiting out his irritation until the silence stretched too thin.
"You are more than capable and I'm not the only one who sees it. Tearing yourself down is no longer an option, much less something I'll allow you to do."
Draco scrubbed a hand over his face.
"I know you have plans for the Apothecary." Frustration bled from Hermione's veins. "I know you want to fully immerse yourself in the shadows in order to give Scorpius a quiet life without judgement that stems from your past. I want that life for him, too. I want that life for us, and I don't think this will hinder those plans. Before the Wizengamot involved themselves in every bit of Ministry business, their sessions only lasted half the year and not everything would require a hearing. The course to return to that has already been set by Percy and his successor is continuing down that path."
Draco summoned the whisky bottle and poured himself another two fingers. After a passing moment in deep contemplation, he drank, wincing at the bite. "I have no interest in the machinations of politics, nor do I care to involve myself. You, of all people, should know this."
"Forgiveness, repentance, and atonement." The strength of her tone made him freeze. "You said that you're still working out the last one for yourself."
"I can atone in other ways."
"I agree. You can."
"Is this the part where you'll tell me the same thing you told Kingsley?" He cocked a sarcastic brow. "What was it? What a man does with power."
"Yes, but it goes much deeper. It's about character. What a person will defend and what they'll resist; what they do when their back is against the wall and everything that matters is at stake."
Every hard lesson she'd learned gave her the patience to wait for Draco to speak.
But he didn't.
He just stared at the empty glass in his hand, lost in thought.
Her restraint wore thin. "Everything you were, everything you are, and everything you'll become has been marked through your choices. Like lowering a wand in an Astronomy Tower. Not identifying people you clearly knew. Helping a friend elope and marrying her sister instead to provide for their family. Becoming an Auror, protecting your family, having a son, taking care of me—"
"Granger."
"You aren't him anymore, Draco." Truth spilled like silk from her lips—smooth, easy. Hermione picked up the parchment and held it in both hands. "I have learned, every step of the way, that you have grown past that boy. You are so much more now, yet you're the only one who doesn't see it. This seat wouldn't make you someone else. And it wouldn't turn you back into who you were either."
"Say what you like but people will always suspect me. There is no escaping my past."
"Since when do you care what people think?" Hermione watched tension settle in the ridge of his shoulders and the clench of his jaw. "You can create your own future by using your past. You want to atone? You aren't the only person who's made wrong decisions and needed mercy. There are more, there will be more. You have an opportunity to pay it forward."
Draco set his glass down and turned the full weight of his attention to her.
"Tiberius is a prime example that fear of losing power corrupts those who desire it." Hermione drew closer, settling next to him and lacing their hands together. "I see you. I know you. And I understand some part of you is afraid others might never trust you because you still struggle to trust yourself, but it's clear to me why Kingsley asked you."
"Kingsley—"
"Trusts you. As do I." Hermione refused to let him look away, cupping his jaw when he tried to look up at the night sky. "You want a better future for Scorpius? This is your chance to be part of its creation. Lead by example. Nothing can be accomplished from sitting in the shadows."
His focus narrowed on her. He was listening.
"Teach him by righting the wrongs your family benefited from in the past. Bigotry, nepotism, the corruption that empowered the Malfoys—now is your chance to atone for the sins society perpetuated before us. You can be a part of the solution. Clean it up for him, for yourself, and for us."
Draco's stare was piercing but he said nothing in response. The pensive furrow of his brow told her enough.
A heavy sigh spoke louder than words as he returned to the window. Hermione didn't protest.
"And if I say no?"
"Then we'll keep looking for someone to fill the seat." Hermione joined him, drawn to his side by the undeniably magnetic pull that kept them in each other's orbit. "I won't love you any less."
"If at any point I choose to leave—"
"Then so be it." Hermione shrugged. "It means it wasn't meant for you. I wouldn't even consider it a failure, but rather something that's pointing you in the direction that you're supposed to take. Another step in the journey, if you will."
"You know…" Draco angled himself away from the window, reaching back to pull Hermione in front of him. With her back against his chest, she felt every ounce of his deep breath. "You could take the seat."
"I could," she whispered, watching the moon rise above the treeline. "Once upon a time, I might have… but I'm not that person anymore. I can't speak for the future, but right now I have other work to do."
Like focusing on their family. Like finding a cure.
The Earth held its breath in the stillness found only in the dead of night, but Hermione matched each inhale with his. Then each exhale.
In then out.
"I'll be one of fifty."
"One is better than nothing." She leaned her head back against his shoulder. "But if this isn't what you want, I meant what I said. I'll support your decision either way."
It took hours for the remnants of Draco's trepidation to dissolve, a volley of fears and reassurances filled the time, but Hermione stayed by his side.
It may have already been dark outside, yet when Draco finally signed the parchment, she saw him step out of the shadows for the first time.
February 9, 2012
It started with an impromptu Girls' Night.
Once the usual attendees had arrived, Luna suggested they invite Greg's wife Dahlia. Catherine was escorting Scorpius to the Potters', and the little boy was instantly drawn to the woman who'd once been broken by his misery.
She smiled and held her palm out facing him. Scorpius reached forward to touch it.
"Your peace is warm."
The little boy's smile lasted until he disappeared through the Floo with Catherine.
Harry stumbled through the flames well after Ginny mixed the first set of drinks with a message, but his forlorn look at the spirits led to a vote, and when he was allowed to stay for the first time ever, he looked as though Christmas had come again already.
Harry's admittance to the affair led to a pivot in the otherwise loose plans. Catherine volunteered to stay with the children and Harry dragged Draco from work. Earlier that day, his team had successfully drawn a target out of the forest and tracked it moving southwest. Hermione was anxious to know more about the results of the experiment, but that conversation would have to wait.
Ron came through the Floo with Charlie and enough cheap chicken and cheaper beer for everyone. Pansy Floo called Percy. Both Greg and Neville—dirt on their hands and all—stumbled through a few minutes after Luna's hare bounced off. Dean arrived without Halia, after leaving her for the evening with his mother. Theo turned up last after a personal invitation from Hermione, when she realised no one else had reached out to him.
Theo greeted Cho first, and while she didn't ignore him, she didn't take the open seat next to him either. Instead, Cho wedged herself between Parvati and Hermione. With Blaise and Padma on a break from their families disguised as a second honeymoon, they all reminisced about the wedding.
Hermione had to nudge Draco six times to make him stop glaring at Ron's cheap beer, and Harry each time he offered Draco one, but overall it was a nice night.
So nice, in fact, that Hermione let her guard down.
Ron took a swig of warm beer. "At least we get a break from weddings until next December for George and Angelina's."
"We'll see." Hermione chuckled. "If Narcissa has it her way, we'll be married by summer."
"You'd have to be engaged first." Harry's laugh was loud in the silent room.
Neither Draco nor Hermione protested. It was a split second slip-up, but there was no going back.
"Wait." Pansy raised a drumstick like a weapon. "Are you?"
Hermione and Draco's eye argument went on too long.
Smirks from Percy, Theo, and Ginny grew wide and wild. Harry and Ron blinked at her. Neville was as cheery as Luna was smug. Dahlia didn't know their story, but she looked pleased nonetheless.
Pansy appeared ready to scream or club them both with chicken. Charlie's chuckle cut the silence like a knife, and Parvati followed with a giddy squeal loud enough for them to cover their ears.
Against all odds, Parvati's voice found an even higher pitch when Hermione ended the concealment spell and revealed her ring.
"Since when?" At least four of their friends said at once.
"New Year's Eve." Draco smirked. "Morning."
Pansy and Daphne joined Parvati in yelling, especially given the fact that they'd brought in the year as a group. Their friends were putting the pieces of all their interactions together, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh as they theorised out loud.
It would have gone on longer had a corporeal Patronus not come hurling into the conservatory.
We've tracked Greyback… just as you anticipated, he's… here.
Hermione looked at Draco. "Here?"
"The Manor."
Harry and Draco were on their feet at once, the former kissing his wife and the latter looking at Hermione when she stood as well.
"You aren't going, are you?" Cho asked her quietly.
Hermione's eyes never left Draco. "I am."
"You're going to let her?" Ron argued from somewhere to her left. "After what happened last time? It's madness—"
"It is," Draco agreed.
Ron was momentarily stunned. "Wait what?"
"But short of an Imperius, there's not a force in existence that could stop her. Unless you plan on casting it, I don't think it's up to either of us." Draco looked down, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Which is why Granger will need a better pair of shoes."
A determined smile spread across Hermione's lips before she took off for the bedroom. She returned in a flash, dressed properly with everything she needed; her beaded bag was fully stocked and her wand was tucked securely in its holster.
Draco and Harry were waiting in front of the fireplace with their friends gathered nervously around the room. They'd sorted everything out in her absence. Daphne would keep Scorpius, Ron would call her parents, and Pansy would notify Narcissa and Andromeda of what was happening.
"Keep each other safe." Ginny's parting words were directed at all three.
They would.
Hermione looped an arm through Draco's. They left with a crack just behind Harry.
One team made up of two Aurors and two Task Force members were waiting in the clearing of the haunting ruins of the Manor. The air still smelled like magic, but it was no longer thick to the point of suffocation.
If any of them were surprised to see Hermione, they kept it to themselves.
"Status."
Draco and Harry spoke as one.
They were as unified as the blend of teams around them.
"Margot and her team of four tracked him two kilometres north of here, but they're keeping their distance. Moon is at ninety-seven percent tonight." Only one night past its peak of full. Greyback would be near his full strength, too. "We have tracking charms set to take us to them, but we were waiting for your arrival."
Draco pulled out a familiar vial. "Everyone needs two drops. This will last for an hour."
With dusk approaching, that was all the time they had before the risk began to outweigh the reward.
Each took it without question.
Even Harry.
"You four stick together." Draco was last to take his dose. "Potter, stay with us."
Both Harry and Hermione were surprised, but the fizzing and crackling tracking orb ended all conversation.
The white light died.
The earth shook with the force of magic, yet that wasn't what marked the start of trouble.
It was the howl.
Primal and raw, it chilled Hermione to the core.
"There's no telling where they are now."
"No, but—" Harry pointed a short distance away. "We can start there."
There was a faint cloud of smoke rising above the dense forest.
It took two jumps to reach their destination.
A small clearing of freshly scorched earth.
They found half of Margot's team. At least, they found their bodies.
Between the burnt trees and blistered ground, smoke and cinders rose from where life once existed. It cast an eerie haze over the scene as they inched around slowly. On high alert, they secured the area with their wands out. Draco and Harry silently signalled in the direction each group needed to move.
But nobody had a chance.
Pounding footsteps.
Rustling tree branches.
Something came bursting into the clearing closest to them.
Not something. Someone.
Not Greyback.
A woman.
"Margot!" one of the Task Force members called.
Margot raced towards them at top speed. "He ambushed us," she gasped, still out of breath and frantic with fear. "He's been watching."
Torn necks of the team members and the fire told the story of what happened next. The prey became the predator.
Margot stood still while Hermione healed her superficial injuries.
"We led him in the woods and got separated. I told Lea to come back here because we knew—"
Another Task Force member stumbled into the clearing, tripping over a rock in the rush to reach safety. She, too, had been running for her life.
"Incoming!"
The lone word was not warning enough.
A monstrous, misshapen Greyback was still partly transformed from the full moon the day before and covered in blood as he charged out of the trees into the clearing.
He snapped trees like they were twigs and moved his broken, bloodied limbs like pain was little more than an inconvenience.
One sight in mind.
Beneath the stench of ozone and smoke, there was the scent Greyback had locked on.
Her. Or, more accurately: them.
Hermione hardened her resolve for the fight as everyone fanned out in a semi-circle amongst the rubble. Margot was weak, but she took a place at Hermione's side when Greyback charged.
He lunged at the pair of Aurors carrying her scent.
Draco's potion was working, but there was no time for celebration. Greyback moved like a blur, tossing both Aurors aside like dolls before they could get a single spell off. Task Force members began to engage, using blasting charms that might have stopped him months ago, but magic was no match for him today.
Nothing prepared Hermione for the sight of Greyback taking direct stunners and shaking off other spells without slowing down.
He showed no shred of humanity.
Several howls broke out.
Other wolves crowded around the clearing.
Seven on one turned into them being outnumbered.
The plan collapsed. Greyback's wolves had found them.
And they were armed with wands and ready to defend their maker at all costs.
Trapping quickly turned into a plan for defence.
Hermione shot a spell at a tree in the distance, lighting it on fire.
Draco looked at her with wide eyes. "Reckless?"
"I need a distraction!"
Harry gave her another one. Blue arrows rained fire in all directions from his wand, sending the wolves in a panic to cover themselves.
It wasn't the flames they were fleeing from. It was the light.
Today was the day after a full moon.
They were drained. It was sensory overload.
Hermione moved to shock their system again, but Draco beat her to it. Taking a move out of her book, he shot blasting spells at every burnt tree husk. Hermione had just enough time to cover her ears before the wood exploded.
"Lumos Solem!"
Barely a moment to look away, she shielded her eyes just before a flash of blinding light ignited the dusky sky with a glow that rivalled the sun. The wolves cowered. Trained for the unexpected, the Aurors and Task Force used the opportunity to their advantage.
The clearing gave no room for cover. When spells started flying in earnest, Hermione found herself ducking and dodging while deflecting. Margot fought with a wild fury, casting binding gold ropes that wrapped themselves around the necks of two wolves and tightened. Assistance in the form of a spell from Hermione sent them flying back until a tree stopped their bodies and left them in a heap.
The flames crackled on.
Hermione glanced around just in time to watch an aggravated Draco stun the wolf nearest him.
They both scanned the wreckage for any sign of Greyback.
But the beast was gone.
Distraction may have kept them safe for the time being, but it had driven the wolves and Greyback to retreat.
Instinct lured them back into the woods.
Harry was panting when he finally reached them. "Backup is coming. I sent everyone else to give chase to the wolves. Margot, stay here and wait for the others. I gave them our location, so keep this area secure."
"Yes, sir."
"We have to hurry." Hermione looked to the darkening sky. "Greyback will be impossible to find after nightfall."
He might not know these woods, but his senses were sharper than theirs.
"Maybe not." Harry shrugged. "But I managed to get a tracker on him before he fled."
Draco was vaguely impressed. "How did you—"
"I hit him with a tracking charm. It wasn't part of the plan but—" Harry waved in the general direction of the charred ruins. "Fire arrows, tree bombs, and blinding light weren't really part of the plan either."
"You've always had a gift for thinking on your feet, Harry." Hermione smiled before looking over to Draco. "Shall we?"
They both placed a hand on Harry's shoulders and allowed the spell to take them to their target.
Or close to it.
They landed near where they'd started, but the forest was dense, old, and damp, despite it not recently raining. Unease settled in the marrow of her bones as they listened for any sign of their targets.
Light steps led Harry over rotting wood stumps.
Hermione followed a safe distance after, and Draco covered them from behind.
A low snarl and the snap of twigs barely registered before Greyback sprang from his hiding spot.
Harry went down with a shout.
His wand flew from his hand.
Hermione aimed the strongest blasting spell she knew at Greyback.
A jet of magic struck the centre of his chest and flung him back.
One tree clipped his shoulder, a second caught his leg, then a third stopped his momentum as his hulking figure slammed against its trunk with a crack.
But it wasn't enough.
Hermione could hardly believe her own eyes. What would have immobilised even the most competent man only fuelled Greyback's fury.
He looked up, locked eyes with her, and the earth slowed on its axis.
For a moment, Hermione was back in the hospital hallway all those months ago. His hands tightened her throat and—
It only lasted a second.
This time, she was not at his mercy.
This time, the tables had turned.
He must have known it, too, because his roar of frustration shook the birds loose from the tree limbs in a mass exodus.
Rage rattled in the air around them.
Injured, still bleeding from the unhealed curse, and with fresh burns from Harry's arrows singed in his matted fur, Greyback looked every bit the monster of her worst nightmares.
But they had a plan.
Hermione and Draco took turns binding him with gold cords, then wound them around the tree to keep him in place. The tree hadn't been part of the plan, but the gold cords were. At least one thing had worked in their favour.
Harry got to his feet and found his wand when they finally had Greyback properly restrained. There was barely any fur visible beneath the golden threads when they stopped chanting.
"What do we—"
"Malfoy, the incantation to turn him back?" Harry favoured one side, looking sick and flushed, but Hermione didn't have time to heal him yet.
"I know it." Draco was slightly out of breath. "But I have to get close enough to—"
Greyback's snarl sent them all stepping back in caution. He was straining against the binds, but they held. For now.
"How close do you—"
A sharp crack preceded an explosion as the top half of the tree snapped free from the pressure. Draco shoved Hermione out of the path of the falling evergreen and it landed with a resounding crash between them.
Splinters sprayed like shrapnel in a wooden display of war.
One look passed before the fight was on.
At least this time they had better odds: three on one.
For the first time, Greyback seemed confused by his own instincts, unable to tell which scent was truly hers in his critically injured state. All three of his opponents smelled the same.
But then he charged.
At her.
She was in the middle, after all.
Hermione's severing charm pierced his flesh and blood painted the forest floor. But it only slowed him momentarily.
She braced for a blow that never came.
Harry and Draco sent blasting charms from opposite sides. The opposing forces crushed him in the centre. Disoriented, Greyback stumbled.
"Now!"
Draco took off towards Greyback in a dead sprint while Hermione and Harry used every bit of magic to keep him off balance.
Lights.
Explosions.
Anything and everything to disrupt his senses.
Draco's first attempt failed, a swipe from Greyback sent him flying backwards. Unfettered, he ran towards danger once again.
"Bind him!"
Hermione went for something stronger than ropes and aimed her wand at the fallen tree.
"Incarcifors!"
It split apart and transfigured into a makeshift iron cage that creaked and groaned as Greyback bent it with a wet snarl. Harry hit him with a blasting charm from behind that sent him into the hole he'd created in the bars. Draco made it to the cage just in time, pressing his wand against Greyback's neck.
In the middle of the chaos, she didn't hear the incantation, but she knew it worked when fangs and fur began to recede.
They only needed a few minutes at most. Padma's spell wasn't meant for longevity, but neither was Greyback, who took another swipe.
That time, Draco caught his arm.
They both vanished with a pop.
"Did you see—"
"He'll change back. It's temporary!" Hermione was already pulling at her compass necklace with shaking hands.
It didn't just take her home. It took her to him.
"You're not going anywhere without me." Harry limped to her side, gasping from the pain of what she could now see were likely broken ribs. "Can that take us both?"
As it turned out, it could. The landing was hard and they both stumbled into the middle of the Manor's rose garden.
Dusk left an ominous glow over the estate. It still reminded Hermione of a graveyard. She looked around for Draco and heard him coughing before she found him lying beneath an overgrown bush that was blooming much too soon.
Harry pulled Draco to his feet.
They stood around Greyback, who was seizing as the wolf left behind the broken body of a naked man with half his skin ripped apart. Dead eyes locked with hers and he tried to speak, but words were impossible while choking on blood and bile.
Still, one managed to escape. "Finally."
It paralyzed her mind but beckoned her body closer.
"Don't." Harry stopped her. "He's—"
The spell began to fade.
Greyback snarled and spat blood through elongating teeth that were sharpening before their eyes.
Bones cracked like splintering wood. Screams of pain morphed into howls.
Humanity gave way to the whims of the monster.
The diseased wolf was returning to lay claim to the mangled man.
There was no time to spare, and only one thing to do.
Put them down.
With measured fear in his eyes, Draco gave her the choice.
It was her chance.
Her opportunity to take back the peace Greyback had stolen from her.
Hermione raised her wand, held it steady, and stared down the vinewood at the figure knowing what needed to be done.
She took one breath.
Then two.
For all her anger and fear and hate, she still couldn't cast the spell. The emotions were there, aching in her bones, but they were masquerading as one another and mutating like wisps in the wind.
"You can't." Harry lowered her arm with a shake of his head. "You have to mean it."
"No." Draco's words were forged in the fire of determination, pain etched in every muscle it took for him to raise his wand. "No, you don't."
Emotions blurred the lines between reality and belief.
Draco dressed his fear as hate.
"Avada Kedavra."
February 12, 2012
A sea of people stretched in all directions, steeped in a reverent silence.
Every eye in the crowd fell on one man.
It was nothing short of magical.
No one spoke. No one moved.
They just waited to hear the words of their new Minister, who'd just had Interim officially removed from his title.
Kingsley stood alone on the edge of the fountain in perfect silence for so long Hermione had no idea if he would speak at all.
Until he raised his wand against his neck to amplify his words.
"I was reminded by a friend that the measure of a man is what he does with power."
From the hidden room overlooking the crowded Atrium, Hermione went so still that Scorpius looked at her in concern. Standing in a chair to get a better view of the sight below made them the same height; all he had to do was lean against her in an act of comfort.
She pressed a quick kiss to his temple. "I'm fine."
And she was.
Even as they waited for the news.
"While it can be used, misused, and abused, power can also transform the course of history. But this depends on both the character of the one wielding it and the choices they make. And while we are gathered here with the belief that I am the person who shall decide such things, I'm here to say that I am not. Under my leadership, that power rests with you… all of you."
The door opened, and soon Draco was a presence beside her.
An internal investigation had kept him away all day in a meeting that even her temporary position as Senior Undersecretary hadn't granted her access to, but what she did know was both she and Harry had spoken on his behalf.
Hermione hadn't made it more than a few minutes into her interview before berating the panel for even hinting at the possibility of charges. Draco's expression remained devoid of emotion, but Hermione knew he'd been entertained by her defence, especially when she'd boldly stated that had Harry delivered the Killing Curse, there would be no investigation. They'd stuttered and stumbled over their reasons, and to Draco's eternal amusement, Hermione had made them pay for every word uttered out of place. They'd all looked properly shamed.
She'd been just as happy as the panel to be excused.
But now they were waiting.
"My job as Minister is to lead and empower, to facilitate and guide, to pursue and encourage progress."
"Verdict came back."
Hermione froze. "And?"
"My use of the curse was deemed justified."
Relief made her lean against him.
"Then I immediately tendered my resignation to the DMLE and notified them of my intent to accept a seat on the Wizengamot."
"I am preparing us not for the predictability of the past, but for the realities of today and the unknown that is tomorrow."
"How are you feeling?"
"I—" Draco released a fraction more of the tension he held in a heavy exhale. "Free."
She believed him.
"I am not a perfect man, but I am determined to lead this imperfect institution into a better future, and this future will not be a continuation of our past. The Ministry is—just as we all are—capable of change. It is up to all of us to be the change we seek."
They each placed a hand on Scorpius' shoulder and looked at each other.
Everything wasn't perfect. There were more battles to fight, more victories and losses they would face together, but today's success was enough for now.
They had time to breathe and experience a happiness that wasn't fleeting.
Together. As a family.
The future was finally here.
It was now.
The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.
Martin Luther King Jr.
Well, here we are at the end of the story, but we still have an epilogue to go. So stay tuned.
I'm pretty deep into writing the epilogue and still have April 22-24th marked for the drop, but if it's ready earlier, I'll post it earlier.
Lastly, a MASSIVE THANK YOU to my sensitivity reader Sri1997 for helping me with the Bladma wedding scenes. While I spent months (maybe a year and a half off and on) doing extensive research, Sri was a big help when it came to organizing my thoughts, making sure I had the right beats and feels and terminology. I based their ceremony somewhat loosely on traditional Marathi ceremonies and added a magical flair. And once again, thanks to Marion, for helping me with French. Thank you both for keeping secrets despite wanting to scream. I appreciate you both. And Jaxx with her gorgeous self. I can't forget you.
Epilogue incoming.
