I should probably mention I don't really do trigger warnings - Mostly, because I usually think what's triggering to me may not be to another person and vise versa... that being said: Read at Your Own Risk.
I enjoy writting a bit of smut and sometimes reference off the wall dark themes when it suits.
Time seemed to pass Hermione by. She hardly found time to see her friends. Her new position consumed her every thought over the following six months and even her side hobby of keeping tabs on Draco Malfoy had slithered to the back of her mind, though not completely abandoned. He was still working at the Ministry and every so often they would catch the others eye across the atrium, share a lift and a few cordial words, occasionally leaving much too late in the evenings and find themselves silently exiting the building together. She often felt the urge to ask him about his new position, if he enjoyed it but the words never seemed to form. Instead she would glance over her shoulder to find him starring after her, an unreadable expression on his features as he gave her a curt nod and bid her a goodnight or she him. It was a comfortable existence, strangely enough, and Hermione found a sort of comfortability to seeing him everyday, grateful for his continued courtesy to keep to himself on the days she was unable to get her laws passed and welcomed the comfortable silence that settled between them whenever he escorted her out. It was the lack of expectations, she supposed- there were none where Draco Malfoy was concerned and she knew if she ever voiced the truth aloud that it would sound as absurd as it did in her head. Regardless, she opted to not question it as she could rarely find much peace inside her mind these days.
She only saw Harry one to two times a week, often at work and for short periods of time. Ron had taken a job in Bulgaria, following his wife who was transferred shortly after Hermione gained her new position. They still wrote, though not as often as in the beginning. To Hermione, she felt numb... like she was floating through the days. She was good at her job- exceptionally good really- but when she would return to her flat and curl up on her couch alone with a book in her hand and a bowl of whatever she reheated in the other, she would hear the silence. It was louder than it had ever been, reminding her of the loss- the pain- and how truly lost she felt. Ginny had introduced her to a few of her teammates and convinced her to join her and Harry on a few double dates, though they were fine people, Hermione never felt anything more after the first few dates and would kindly ask them if they could just be friends- to which, they rarely followed through on. After the forth set up and failure to be swept off her feet she began to turn down Ginny and Harry's offers, opting to not introduce herself to anyone else that would soon walk away when what she wanted and who she was just wasn't enough...
It wasn't as if she felt anyone could actually fill the void. She knew almost for certain that the void she was feeling was not for lack of a lover or any type fo relationship. She soon began to let a whisper of fear enter her mind in those quieter moments... the fear that she simply would never fit into someone else's mold of what they needed to be. The thought never lingered more than a few moments, but it never truly went away either.
The sound of her fireplace roaring to life caught her attention and she quickly marked her place in the novel she was lost in and laid it on the couch, moving to her feet to see who would be calling her this late. She glanced at the clock above her mantel- oh, it was only 7:30PM- Well, it felt much later than that to her.
"Hermione Jean Granger! If you are sitting in your bloody pajamas reading a sodding book with a cup of hot chocolate on your side table so help me-"
"Take it easy Gin. I'm sure she's just getting ready-" Harrys voice cut off the shrieking pitch of his fiancé, stopping abruptly as he pushed his head into the fireplace to take in her attire. "Oh- no, you were right. She's definitely forgotten."
"Forgotten?" Hermione repeated at the same time Ginny grunted loudly, looking over at Harry- "Why do you ever doubt me?"
"Er-" Harry stammered, glancing from Ginny back to Hermione, "It's not a big deal you can just thrown on a dress and head over. It doesn't start for another... oh- fifteen-"
"No!" Ginny said firmly shaking her head, the sparks in the fireplace moving about Hermione's marble floors. "No, no. Not acceptable- throw on a dress- honestly, Potter you have absolutely no understanding of what we woman have to go through to impress you sodding idiots!"
"Ginny- Harry- slow down. What starts in fifteen minutes?"
"The banquet you beautifully brilliant mess of a woman! Honestly, how did you two survive a bloody war- it's as if you have no sense of urgency or understanding of social etiquette whatsoever-"
"Ginny." Hermione said cutting her off. She saw the face in the fire close her mouth instantly, taking a deep breath.
"I apologize. I think I'm just- excited. It must be the pregnancy- extra hormones or whatever it is you keep drawling on about whenever I mention I'm cranky and- anyway, this is not important." Ginny said and Hermione and Harry both smiled at her as she took two more long breaths. "Alright, this is fine. It's fine. I'll just... I'll come over and shove you in own of my back ups. I'll shrink it. This is fine. Everything will be fine."
"Back ups?" Hermione repeated crossing her arms trying to remember ever agreeing to attend a banquet, glancing at Harry who simply shrugged. He seemed to be chewing something now and Ginny noticed, quickly lifting her hand to swat the pastry our of his mouth.
"There will be food at the banquet Potter. I need your breath kiwi free, understood."
This time Harry sighed loudly, following suit in her deep breathing exercises.
"Yes, just- open the Floo and I'll be there in a moment."
Draco Malfoy was once the focal point of social gatherings similar to the one he was attending this oddly warm spring night. He glanced over at his mother who was holding Scorpius' hand in hers, pointing to the twinkling lanterns floating above them, seeming to compliment the vast darkness of the night sky. Draco swallowed his second glass of whisky and placed his empty glass on a tray floating by. He had already had two more before leaving the Manor and knew he would have two more before the end of the hour. His mothers need to be present and her son and grandson on her arm outweighed his overwhelming desire to be absolutely anywhere else at all. He was surrounded by people who either hated him or pretended not to, though the moment they believed he was not looking they would begin the whispers- sure it had been almost six years since the war ended but it seemed no amount of cooperation with the Ministry or volunteering his time to help rebuild Hogwarts over the years could counterbalance the fear and distaste of what he had once been to those in the Wizarding World.
He agreed to stay until ten o'clock, blaming Scorpius bedtime on his need to return home as soon as possible. His mother could see right through him, though, and managed to completely gloss over his comment all together. The warmth of the alcohol flowing through his veins did help slightly. He focused on avoiding anyone's strayed glances his way. Instead, he kept his entire focus on his mother and his son, watching Scorpius' eyes light up whenever one of the lightening bugs would escape from Luna Lovegood's yellow dress. Apparently, they were necessary to keep some absurd creature from digging in her ears and stealing her dreams- or something along those lines. Draco hadn't really been listening too closely to anything her or Longbottom were saying to his mother at the time because the moment they began speaking happened to be the exact moment Harry Potter entered the room with Hermione Granger tailing him.
It was then that Draco lost the feeling of numbness that the alcohol provided him for the past thirty minutes. Instead, another feeling entered his veins- one of a tingling nature that he felt almost every time his eyes laid upon the peculiar witch over the past several months. It was easier to ignore it in the glimpses he saw her at the Ministry- shrugging it off as Hermione Granger simply reminding him the worst parts of him, but it wasn't so easy this time as his eyes took in the deep crimson dress hugging her frame, cascading down her legs and flowing around her on the stone floor... no, it wasn't easy to simply look away and pretend her presence didn't supply him with a sense of calm that he didn't quiet understand... it wan't easy because seeing her in such a state forced him to reconsider the tingling sensation in his veins.
He swallowed once and forced every inch of control he had to turn his head away from where she was slowly descending the stairwell, she was glowing really, her smile bright in the dark room of those wearing different shades of colors that no longer seemed vibrant to him.
"My goodness-" His mother leaned towards him, lowering her voice into a whisper. "Isn't she simply a vision...?"
Draco felt his mother's lingering gaze on the side of his face and he knew if he glanced over he would see the beginnings of a smirk on her painted lips. He didn't look at her. Instead he turned around to search for another drink.. or three.
Hermione was thoroughly enjoying herself. Ginny had opted out of dancing, shoving her heels off her swollen feet and decided instead to indulge in the many desserts the Ministry elves had baked, her appetite for two ever growing, which left Harry without a dancing partner.
Ginny lifted her icing covered fingertips, flinging them out wildly, "Go, go... take him- keep him for all I care- all he does is try and steal bites of my ice cream and I do not enjoy it in the slightest."
Hermione kissed Ginny on the cheek as the red head lightly shoved her away grunting something about desperately wanting the pregnancy to be over. Hermione turned to see Harry's outstretched palm, his head tilted down at an over exaggerated angle, his eyes practically connecting to his shins. Hermione stifled her smirk, and placed her finger tips over his as she lifted her dress out to the slide, bending her knees slightly, wobbling awkwardly.
They perhaps drank a few too many glasses of champagne.
Harry then pulled her behind him to the dance floor as the music slowed and began forming into another tune- one more classical in nature and neither Harry or Hermione had ever really mastered the art of the waltz during their younger years and it showed. They laughed through most of the song, the partners they were forced to step between for the dance either smirking at their clumsiness or, for the more posh experienced dancers, shot aggravated looks their way.
As Hermione twirled out the arms of one stranger she collided ungracefully into Harry's arms once more and they began another round of laughter as they glanced over Harry's shoulder to see Ginny stabbing her brother's greedy hand away from her plate. George frowned and then they twirled once more, their sights landing on Slughorn uncomfortably gliding an elegant Narcissa Malfoy around the room.
The sight made them both choke on their laughter and Hermione hadn't felt her abs so sore from happiness since before the war- a memory of sitting in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room with Harry and Ron flashed in her mind and she felt a warm fluttering in her heart as the music came to a stop.
Her smile attempted to cover her entire face, her cheeks sore from grinning so widely, as Harry bowed in front of her- reaching for her elbows for support.
"We're the best dancers out here." Harry whispered to her and she nodded.
"Oh, most definitely. Another round then?" She asked, feeling slightly light headed, but only just- the perfect amount of sober and tipsy, enough to enjoy the moment and not feel heavy with the blood rushing to her head.
"Oh, most certainly. I think this crowd could use another show."
The next song was slightly more contemporary and slower. Hermione clasped her hands behind Harry's shoulders as he extended his hands to rest on her ribs. They swayed and shared whispered jokes as they commented on the array of Ministry officials, foreign and British, and the familiar war heroes around the room- both dogging a few of stray lightening bugs that had apparently escaped Luna's unique dress. Hermione smiled at Harry as his eyes lingered on Ginny, who was now leaning back in her chair playing his George's eldest daughter. She was playing with the young girl's hair, braiding and unbraiding it as the little girl's eyes fluttered open and shut, yawning.
"She'd going to be an amazing mother." Harry said so low Hermione wasn't sure if he intended to say it aloud at all.
"She will be. The best, truly." Hermione agreed.
"I'm not so sure I will be- a good parent that is." Harry said suddenly, tearing his eyes away from Ginny to look off somewhere over Hermione's shoulder.
"How could you think that?" Hermione asked him, their steady swaying faltering slightly as she leaned away and they stood still.
Harry met her gaze, his eyes suddenly entirely serious. "I don't know- I guess I just worry I won't be as good as she will be. She's had both of her parents and seen them raise her and her brothers... I grew up alone and well- what do I really have to mimic besides Arthur? I don't mean to say he isn't a wonderful father, of course he is, I just mean- well, I really don't know what its supposed to be like- what i'm supposed to be like- towards a child- my child..."
Hermione took his elbow and pulled him off to the side of the dance floor lowering her voice.
"How long have you felt like this?" She asked, worry lacing her features. He smiled at her.
"It's nothing serious, I'm certain I'll figure it out... it's just- Every person I've looked up to as a father figure was only in my life for a short time... Sirius, Remus, Severus, Albus... all I know is fleeting moments- What if i'm not good at the longer bits- the bits where I'm not running for my life or trying to save anyone and I'm just- a father- a dad." He laughed shaking his head, "I don't think I'm making much sense right now. Shouldn't have had that fifth glass."
"No, no. You're making perfect sense. I get it. I do." Hermione said nodding quickly and regretting it as her head spun slightly. "But you've managed the longer bits already- with Ginny."
"Seventy percent of our relationship has been long distance up until the last few months. We're just now getting used to seeing each other everyday and now with a child on the way were going to have to fumble through that as well..." He swallowed, his gaze dropping to his feet and then he lifted his head, his eyes narrowing as his eyes fell upon something over her shoulder. Hermione wan't sure what she could say. She had no experience in either subject, children or relationships...
"But-" Harry sighed, a grin forming on his lips again as he nodded over Hermione's shoulder. "I suppose if bloody Malfoy can manage being a father then so can I."
Hermione felt her mouth go dry at the mention of the one person she had been avoiding to look at all night, in case she did something stupid like try and speak to him.
She slowly turned to follow Harry's amused gaze to see Draco Malfoy holding a toddler in his arms, swaying- honestly, quiet flawlessly- to the music. His smile was small, but in his eyes you could see his true emotions- as they focused on his spitting image in his arms. The small boy's eyes were glued to his father's listening intently to whatever he was explaining to him, hanging on his every word; their blonde hair stark against their pale skin and black fitted suits.
"It's a requirement that all Malfoy men learn the waltz at the earliest age possible," Narcissa Malfoy's smooth voice interrupted Hermione's wandering thoughts and lingering gaze on the two handsome men across the room. "...as well as a handful of other intricacies of the arts: dancing, manners and social etiquette, formal event planning, diligent networking..." Narcissa tore her eyes away from her grandson and her son to meet Hermione and Harry's bemused stares. "All a load of rubbish and an entirely overpriced waste of time."
She smiled at them and lifted two glasses, handing one to them both which they took without refusal. People didn't really refuse Narcissa Malfoy. Ever.
Hermione returned her smile and Harry laughed politely.
"I've instructed Draco be rid of such ridiculous traditions, but he feels the need to ignore my every suggestion as of late..."
The elegant woman's piercing eyes held Hermione's gaze a moment longer than Hermione felt necessary before the regal woman turned her attention to Harry.
"I am right to assume neither one of you were subjected to such unbearable circumstances during your youth?" She asked raising amused brow, lifting her glass of champagne to her lips and tilting it back.
"What gave it away, our impeccable dance moves?" Harry said with an ease that Hermione found surprising.
She remembered Harry mentioned that Narcissa had invited him over for tea a few times over the years and brought him several important belongings of Snape's that she had in her possession, believing Harry would find them more sentimental. It took Hermione a moment for Hermione's mind to catch up to the ease with witch they bantered with one another, easily keeping the conversation light and teasing.
She couldn't help but tune them out as the music slowed and Draco placed his son on the ground, shifting to kneel before him to continue his instruction. She was watching him closely as he lifted his left hand, his long fingers floating high near his sons shoulders while the other lingered near his waist. He dropped them both and his features became serious as he said something and his son's blonde hair bobbled up and down several times, confirming that he understood. Hermione found herself unable to tear her eyes away from the earnest smile on Draco's face as he ruffled his sons hair, laughing at the young boy who attempted to quickly shoo his father's hand away and began pressing his hair back down, nervously glancing around to make sure no one saw, clearly embarrassed.
She was do distracted by this scene that she didn't hear Harry or Narcissa say her name, once and then a second time; nor did she realize she was grinning as widely as Draco as his eyes filtered from his son's and glanced up- immediately finding hers.
They remained like that for what felt like an overwhelmingly, enjoyably slow second; both incapable of removing the grins that had formed on each their faces during the short time.
It was hardly a heartbeats length of time, but it had held Hermione captive- keeping her in that flash of a moment and filling her cheeks, her throat, her lungs, chest and veins with a warm feeling of comfort; a feeling she wasn't entirely sure she had ever experienced before... because for as much as the moment electrified her insides, it equally terrified her completely.
Draco Malfoy hated working with the Auror department. He dreaded the mountains of paperwork he had to sift through just to meet with one of them. He despised the overwhelming sense of arrogance and entitlement most of the veteran Auror's held whenever they were forced to speak to him. He loathed their utter lack of education on anything besides dangerous missions and risking their lives, which often led them to constantly question him; asking things like: 'what exactly he did for the Ministry?' and 'if you're an Unspeakable then why are you speaking to me?'- they certainly were all buffoons and Draco wanted to punch his sixteen year old self in the face for ever desiring a position amongst such an unbearable lot of idiotic and incompetent officers; but mostly he couldn't stand that the only Auror he truly didn't want to evaporate into a small speck of dust, was none other than Harry sodding Potter.
As it turned out, Harry Potter had actually become something of a rarity in the Auror department. He influenced a new status quo that had completely reformed the standard of what it meant to be an Auror.
It should have infuriated Draco to find out that the insufferable Boy who Lived wasn't entirely useless, but on the contrary he actually thanked Merlin that it was Potter who was assigned to assist him with his latest case, as Potter could actually do his job and do it rather impressively; not that Draco would openly admit that to the unorganized messy haired git.
Yes, Draco was sure he would have put in his two weeks notice along with a long handed note describing all the ways the Auror department is incapable of keeping the Wizarding World safe with a cited notation to reference all the hundreds of examples he would include if he had been assigned Humphree's or Dunglemier again. They were infuriatingly idiotic and if there was one thing Draco Malfoy couldn't stand more than working under Harry Potter it was working with those buffoons.
He and Potter had spent the last two weeks gathering the case notes involving a certain time-turner case gone wrong. They had been assigned to work on the case together and to Draco's amazement Potter had actually been enthusiastic about the pairing. He began spouting off his theories the moment Draco walked into his office, not even bothering with the awkwardness of their past. The past five years seemed to combat the need to sift through the utter twat Draco had been to the other man.
They had worked briefly on other cases in the past, but that was when Draco was still on probation and divulging information surrounding all things Dark Magic and the immense Death Eater's hobbies that only he and his mother would ever be willing to mention to the authorities. Then they would speak for an hour or two, Potter asking the questions and Draco answering them and then they wouldn't see one another unless in passing at work or at a formal event. Much like the way Draco had seen Potter at the banquet two months ago... the same banquet that Hermione Granger wore a crimson dress and smiled at him without tarring her eyes away.
Draco cleared his throat, suddenly aware he had been starring at the same document for almost twenty minutes now. He sighed and lifted his fingers to grip his hair on either side of his head, forcing away his wandering thoughts reminding him of tingling sensations... a perfectly fitting crimson dress... and the tipsy-induced-haze clouding the intoxicating chestnut colored eyes staring back at him, forced on only him...
He stood abruptly, summoning his things into his briefcase and left his office, stopping only when a piece of parchment floated before him as he took a step out of the lifts. He reached out and read the messy hand writing, clearly belonging to none other than its messy owner Harry Potter.
'Malfoy- Come by my place for dinner tonight. 7:30- if that works? Found something that could be useful for the case. You're welcome to bring Scorpius along. See you then- HP'
"I can not believe you thought this man would ever be capable of talking about anything other than himself- I haven't said more than three words- no, no, I'm- no, Gin- I promise- Yes, I most certainly am giving him a fair shot- no... well, he does remind me of Cormac, but that's- how is that not fair? it's completely fair, and accurate by the way... ugh, fine! He has twenty minutes to change my mind and if he continues to be an arrogant prick then I'm leaving without explaining myself- it's the least he could do as it would likely bring me the only sliver of entertainment i'll receive tonight- ok, fine. yes, i'll check in on Harry- ok, ok. I have to go, he's coming back. Ok- yes, fine. Goodbye Ginevera."
Hermione pressed the end button on her cell phone and quickly shoved the muggle device into her bag and smiled brightly at the tall brunette who sat before her with a smirk so overly confident Hermione would pay to see it knocked off with the last of what was left in her wine glass-
"What was that?" Hermione asked as she suddenly realized she had been glarring into her wine glass for the majority of the few minutes he had sat and begun talking- she didn't need to ask him to repeat himself as she was positively certain he was still telling her how brilliant of a Dragon wrangler he was and how many creatures he had tamed. His eyes narrowed, licking his lips as he said 'tamed'- the sudden feeling of needing to vomit infultrated Hermione's nostrils as she forced a smile at him.
Six more minutes, Ginny. That is all I can reasonably be expected to endure-
"Are you sure you've never modeled before? I think you'd look lovely on the cover of Witch Weekly."
Hermione finished her glass and attempted to smirk at him but she was sure the expression looked more of a pained grimace as she set her glass down.
"Actually," she began speaking, for the first time in... oh, the entire night... lifting the wine bottle and pouring herself a double and lifting the glass to her lips, taking a sip and then another, not bothering to set the glass down as she continued. "I was on Witch Weekly five months ago for my involv-"
"I knew it. It's the legs. You have wonderful legs. I appreciate women who pay attention to their physique. Of course you can imagine us Dragon-" He smiled cheekily at her, cutting her off but she wasn't allowing it this time.
"For my involvement," She repeated a bit louder and he didn't seem bothered in the slightest. "in finalizing the Elf Reformation and Creature Equality Act that ensured all creatures be appropriately reciprocated for their service to wizards-"
"Ah, yes. Charlie mentioned you were somewhat of a saucy bookworm." He cut in and Hermione felt her fingers tighten in her lap. This time she just lifted the glass to her lips and was almost finished, drinking well almost the entire bottle by now, when Fredrick went and opened his big unbearably arrogant mouth. "Though books aren't everything. I myself think that it's much more important to be physically capable," he tilted his head towards her as his brow lifted into his hairline cockily, "Never heard of a book saving anyone from anything, let alone a Double-horned Blueback Dragon, have ya?"
Hermione's chair was pushed out so dramatically that she almost felt embarrassed as several eyes around the restaurant glanced their way, almost. The heady buzz from the wine flooded her cheeks and she was sure she looked absolutely mad as she tried to control her breathing. Fredrick was gaping up at her, clearly unaware of her discomfort. He was mumbling something along the lines of 'was it something I said?' or 'I really think you're overreacting.' and Hermione had to bit her tongue as she shrugged on her coat and he chased her towards the exit.
Luckily, the waiter stopped him- probably assuming he was skipping out on the tab even though the only thing they had time to order in between Fredrick's oversharing was a bottle of wine and bread. Hermione wished she could have stuck through more because the amount of wine she drank combined with the lack of food in her stomach was going to become a dangerously embarrassing situation if she didn't apparate away immediately. She heard Fredrick calling her name from the restaurants entrance and she quickly ducked into the alley, out of sight. Before her mind determined on somewhere to go she was already whirling away from the dark alley of muggle London - somewhere in the back of her mind she knew thought of someplace with food, someplace familiar and safe...
Her feet landed in the living room belonging to Harry Potter and her stomach was aching for something to absorb the alcohol. She saw the faint blur of a familiar black hair in the kitchen and sighed, knowing Harry didn't deserve her inevitable ranting concerning her disappointment, but as her designated best friend he would just have to endure.
"Harry James Potter- I am going to kill your pregnant wife." Hermione said firmly, loud enough for him to hear in the other room as she began taking her coat off. "Well, I suppose she can have the baby first as you certainly don't deserve punishment for her horridly absurd sense of humor at my expense! Honestly, can Ginny not just let me die a lonely old spinster in peace... I mean it worked out for McGonagall after all- and maybe I want to be alone and maybe," she let out a ragged laugh of disbelief as she kept walking, knowing her voice was louder than necessary, but not particularly caring at the moment. "-just maybe, I can't take another second attempting to hold a conversation with a man who thinks books don't save people from DRAGONS! I'd rather suffer another six months pleasuring myself with that horrid muggle vibrator she sent me last Christmas as a joke than spend another sodding moment with a person so-so...ugh, so utterly REPUGNANT!"
"Father," a small voice said politely following Hermione's rant. "What does re-pug-rant mean and what is a- muggle vibrator?"
Draco Malfoy spit out whatever had been in his mouth, choking back on his attempt to breath as he narrowed his eyes at his son. Hermione felt her entire body lock into place as her eyes landed on the three people sitting at Harry's dinning room table. She was almost certain she had stopped breathing, as well as stopped blinking or anything really. Her mouth was open, she was sure of that and her eyes probably bulging out of her sockets as her mind attempted to take in the sight before her.
"Hello Hermione." Harry said calmly, lifting his glass of water to his lips- a very non-discreet smirk across his entirely amused face. "Care to join us for dinner?"