Draco tapped his fingers a few times on the table and shifted in his seat. He'd practiced several things with Rivington, and worked through many potential ways to steer the conversation, including going as far as to plan how he would react to various outcomes.

He even accounted for her becoming thoroughly exasperated with him and storming off, ordinarily he would consider that highly likely, but their last conversation threw a wrench in that idea.

She just kept surprising him, and he was surprising himself, if he were honest.

Even with all his planning, he could not have accounted for the turn in which his date with Hermione Granger was going. She hadn't left, yelled at him, or in any way displayed disgust towards him. In fact, she had shared her dreams with him… even made plans.

They began brainstorming lightheartedly, a fundraising gala, as well as meetings with various ministry officials regarding some of her ideas.

Their time together was enlightening, at times tense, but pleasant…even moreso, it was hopeful .

However, Draco would be remiss if he did not heed Rivington's most poignant urging to, "just tell her, with your words, how you feel."

"Granger, I—" he inhaled and smoothed his hands across the table as if it were messy bedding that needed sorting, "Hermione," he corrected, "I know this— well for me at least it's all been a bit confusing. I am not the best at expressing…" he paused and furrowed his brows at the table before looking at her again.

Her eyes bore into his, and she nodded her head slowly, edging him to continue.

"All my life I have felt like I have had to prove myself. Every bit of attention or affection I received from my father.. and from… others, was conditional. I wanted to please, impress, one up, be at the top.… If it weren't for my mother I would probably never know the difference, but additionally…" Draco caught the shift in her breathing as he said the next part, "with you, I feel as if that is also possible," he cleared his throat and closed his eyes for a moment.

Why in the name of Hecate was this so fucking hard, he thought.

Because it's real.

He cleared his throat and pushed out, "and… you don't just make me feel good. You make me feel better ."

When he opened his eyes again, he realized his face must have twisted in a comical way because the corners of her mouth had jumped up

"Draco," she asked, and then feigned an exaggerated look of surprised seriousness, "Are you trying to tell me that you fancy me?"

"Fuck all, Granger," he said, scratching the back of his head and making a face at her.

She let out a tinkling laugh and wrinkled her nose at him.

He shook his head a few times and they both let out relieved laughs. Draco looked to the ceiling as if in prayer for several moments then met her eyes again.

His lips quivered a little longer as he tried to stifle his amusement, and then he inclined his head to the door, before saying, "Do you want to get out of here?" Draco asked her, lowering his voice and composing himself, "Let me show you how much I fancy you."

She fumbled her lips in her fingers playfully, then nodded her head slowly.

"My place or yours?" He asked.

'Um…" she said, a thought occurring to her, and he thought for a moment she was changing her mind.

"Y-you could, stay the night. With me," Draco tried. If they were going to move forward with being more honest, then Draco thought it best to try now, "I'd like you to, that is. Stay the night."

"I…" she said and he felt his stomach drop. She looked around as if she feared being overheard, then dropped her voice, "I have potions I have to take at night… or I can't sleep."

"Oh," Draco said, and he felt silly for being so cross with her for leaving the other night. Granger had made it very clear she wasn't cruel, but letting go of that last bit of umbrage between them felt like a freedom.

Of course, she must have nightmares too, he thought.

"We could go get them, or Ceely could…. Or, Risly would probably be fine alone with Keely for the night, I'm sure." Hermione smiled as he babbled.

It was so unlike Draco, always controlled and thoughtful before he spoke, she brought it out in him, he supposed.

They still hadn't exactly decided what they were going to do when they exited the pub.

Hermione leaned into him as the late chill hit them, and he put his hand on the small of her back.

She wanted him.

He'd been as close as you can be to someone with her, yet in this moment he felt closer than ever. She pressed her warmth on him even more, and his arms slid around her as they made their way through an alleyway towards an apparition point, arm in arm.
He felt her head tilt up to him and he looked down at her.

"You make me feel better too," she said.

He leaned his head down to kiss her temple and an onlooker might think it was the closing scene of some sort of sickening romantic comedy that even Draco wouldn't mind watching if it meant he got to be the one to walk away with her.

He wanted her.

A crass voice ripped Draco from his reflections.

"Oi, so he's a Muggle fucker too, huh?"

Draco already knew who it was.

Hermione whipped her head towards the voice first, but Draco moved slowly. The icy rage growing in his marrow not affording him any sudden movements.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Malfoy said narrowly as he shifted.

It wasn't even what the tosser said that angered Draco, it was the tired implication. He completed his measured turn and saw, as expected, Bole at the other end of the alleyway. Unexpected, however, were the two wizards he didn't recognize flanking his sides.

"Draco," Hermione said, pulling at his sleeve.

Bole took a pull from the bottle in his hand, and Draco felt Hermione cringe next to him at the sound of the glass clinking against the wizard's teeth.

"Come on," Hermione said, pulling at him again and he relented, letting her take him further away from the trio.

Draco heard the sound of glass breaking, and the rest occurred before he could grasp what was happening.

A blast, a loud crash, and Hermione whipped from her footing and headed straight for the nearby stone wall.

Without a second thought, Draco threw a cushioning charm towards her, but didn't have time to check if it made it to her before he whipped himself around and threw a protection charm in front of them, blocking the narrow alleyway from their attackers' secondary blasts.

Draco then sent a jinx of his own, hitting one of the men with a stupefy.

But the move left him open for the shot Bole and his other companion sent towards Draco at the same time. One missed, ricocheting off the stone walls and hit Bole's second mate, tossing him into the darkness beyond. Draco knew the other curse must have connected with him by the way his shoulder kicked back roughly, but he felt nothing, too rushed from the duel at hand.

Draco felt his hand threaten to tremble as he lifted his wand to disarm Bole, and he watched the man scowl as his wand flew away from him. A chill of frozen fury passed through Draco and without a second thought, he made three swift strides to close the space between him and Bole.

He slung his wand to the ground, overcome with the sudden desire to feel every bit of pain he was about to cause. He felt his knuckles smart as they connected with the wizard's face, and Bole fell onto the damp stone.

Draco's vision went black as he followed the man down. Groans escaped Bole after every slam Draco's fists made, so many times he lost count. There was a cracking sound under the man's eye as bone buckled under another strike. Draco could feel slippery blood on his hands pooling from the gash on the man's cheek, but that didn't stop him.

He hurt her. Had she been knocked out? If she were conscious surely she would be blasting them all to hell right now, Draco thought, but this bastard has hurt her and he would kill him.

Draco grabbed Bole by the front of his robes, and lifted him up just enough to slam his head back into cobblestone. He thought he heard something in the distance, but it was hard to discern over the sound of his blows. He was no more in control of his hands than he was of all the torture he'd endured, all the things he'd been force to do and witness.

The young wizard put it all into Bole as if it were his doing.

He thought he might have heard his name, but he wasn't sure.

"Draco, stop!" he heard a voice say, then felt a pulling at his shoulder.

Every disappointment and failure fell to the man in front of him, and Draco let out a hysterical laugh as struck him once more.

"Stop!" he heard again, and Bole slid away from him as if pulled by an unseen force, magic'd away to the other side of the alley.

Draco's vision was blurry, but he felt hands on his face jerking him away from the space Bole had just lay.

"Draco," the voice said, and his vision cleared a little so that he could see her.

His hands shook and his breathing caught short. Blood trickled down Hermione's temple and he'd beat the hell out of someone with his bare hands.

The stones under his knees seemed to wobble beneath him and he couldn't catch his breath.

He was hyperventilating and trembling, and his whole left side hurt. Draco felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He could hear his labored breathing turn into wheezing, and the corners of his vision darken.

Draco's forearm burned directly where he was branded with the Dark Lord's mark. He could practically feel it slithering inside of his skin.

No… it couldn't be.

His eyes darted around her face to note any other injuries.

Hermione put a hand on his chest as if to tell him to slow his breathing, but he couldn't.

"Draco," Hermione said again soothingly. She gripped his face more in her hands and pulled him close, "You're ok."

"Are you ok?" he asked as he went to reach for her injury, but his arms felt too heavy.

"I'll be fine. I need you to breathe."

Draco then heard multiple cracks of apparition.

Bole or one of those three must have called for them .

"Death Eaters," Draco said, "They're here!" He tried to move his head to look, but she maintained her firm hold of him. He jerked his arm up to prove it to her, to show her the writhing and coiling the mark must be doing against his skin at the dark magic that must have been at work, but all he saw were giant gashes, the actual source of the pain he felt. They ripped through his robes from his forearm to his shoulder, blood seeped from his arm, and he saw it smear onto Hermione's lap.

Hermione tutted at him then called behind her shoulder, "I need a healer over here."

Her face, voice, and touch, were so calming in his panic.

"I called for the DMLE," Hermione explained to Draco as he darted his eye to an approaching wizard.

"They'll take me away," Draco whispered shrilly, he could feel his eyes rolling around in an attempt to see how many there were, and he realized Hermione had pressed herself against him to keep him from scrambling away.

"Stay focused on me, Draco," she said and looked into his eyes.

She said something to the Healer who was now on his knees beside her and also looking at him, but he couldn't understand their words as well because his ears had started to ring.

"Mr. Malfoy," Draco could just make out the DMLE healer saying, "I think you are in shock, we need to take you in."

"I killed him, didn't I?" Draco choked, eyes widening, "My record— They're taking me to Azkaban aren't they?" He asked pleadingly to Hermione.

His stomach churned and he ground his teeth together, afraid he might be sick.

"No, no," she said, stroking the side of his face, and pulling him even tighter to her.

"Harry's here, he is sorting that out," she said.

Why was she so calm?

How much time had passed?

"Where's Bole? Is he dead?" Draco asked again.

"They already took him away, Draco, everything is ok. We just need to get you mended."

"He hurt you," Draco said as the Healer and Hermione lifted him up.

They whispered to each other some more, but Draco only heard warbling noises before his vision went black.


Draco awoke in what he recognized right away as a hospital room at St. Mungo's. He was shirtless, and tucked tightly in the bed— alone, thankfully, in a private room.

They've finally committed me, he thought. Here I was, thinking everything was finally looking up, but in reality I was one bad day from losing it. Granger was probably very impressed by your blithering, you cowardly blighter.

He lifted his bare arm to inspect where he remembered being injured. The gashes had been mended mostly, but new angry red slashes had appeared against his mark and up the rest of his arm. He knew they would most likely fade to match the other silvery scars that swirled his body.

He rubbed at the tension in his temples, and his throat felt like sandpaper, but before he could call for someone his door opened.

"Oh! You're awake," Hermione said, smiling brightly before taking her wand out of the loose bun she had knotted her hair in. She made some motions with the wand, and Draco could see her otter swim away with glee, and he wondered if she was informing the healer on call that he was awake.

"How do you feel?" she asked, crossing the room and sticking her wand back in its place in her hair.

He blinked at her a few times, half surprised to see her now, and half desperate and thankful.

Merlin, she was pretty, he thought.

She walked over to a chair that sat across from him, and he noticed her coat had been slung over it, along with several books and other accouterments that were stacked on the table beside it.

She'd stayed here with him. How long had he been out?

"You, er— you didn't have to…" Draco started, indicating his head to the items.

She put a hand up to stop him and threw herself in the seat, "Hush, I'm not going anywhere," she said.

"Are they going to arrest me?" Draco asked, "I'm not supposed to… if I cause any trouble they—"

She looked as if he had offended her so he stopped speaking.

"I told you Harry sorted it. It was self defense," she said, snippily as she waved her hand in the air, and with that she made clear to Draco that that was all she was going to say on the matter.

Draco stared at her for several beats until she finally said, "I called for your mind healer. He'll want to look you over before they discharge you, you'll also need something to eat. You've been out all night and most of the morning."

"Just water would be nice," Draco said, swallowing around the dryness of his throat.

"That should be on its way as well," she said.

They stared at each other for several beats, and Draco noticed the cut that had marred her face from earlier seemed to be healed, a quick once over of the rest of her determined for him that she looked otherwise unharmed, but that ordeal had been intense. Draco worried what she thought of him, if she still felt the same, or if perhaps she'd realized he was too much trouble than he was worth. He couldn't stand the thought that being with him would cause her more pain. Physical or otherwise.

"Are you ok?" He asked, "I remember you had quite a nasty nick…"

"Of course I'm ok," she said sharply.

"Come here."

She blinked at him.

"Come here and let me see," he pushed.

Salazar, would she make him beg?

Hermione fiddled with a seam on her chair.

"I'm quite sure the healers here are capable of mending scrapes…" she started, then trailed off when she saw the look on his face.

They stared at each other for several beats again until she finally relented with a sigh, and crossed the space between them.

He made space for her, indicating that she sit on the edge closest to him.

Now that she was closer, Draco looked her over. He brushed her hair back and then took hold of her jaw, tilting her face and examining it carefully.

He noted that her skin looked duller than usual, and he could make out purpling forming under her eyes. He wondered if she had slept at all last night, not well at least, in that chair.

"Did you hit your head?" Draco asked, rubbing his fingers at the spot he remembered seeing the blood.

He could tell from across the room, the injury was gone, most likely a result of being thrown against something, rather than a curse. But he mostly wanted to touch her, take in her state to try and determine what she was feeling.

"Yeah," She said, "There might have been brains to clean out of the alley if you hadn't thrown the cushioning charm my way."

He ghosted a thumb across her cheek, and let his hand fall to her shoulder, gripping it a bit.

"You saved me," she continued, tracing a finger in the patterns of the blankets on the bed.

Draco let out a shuddering breath, relief soaked with embarrassment. He felt utterly raw at this moment. He was exposed and unwrapped like the wards of Malfoy Manor, ready to let in what was formerly blocked out.

Open for her to come in.

Draco would always take care of his own, and it was clear to him now that Hermione had become that, his . It was something more noble and ancient than anything passed down from the "Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," and more pure and stronger than the words of the Malfoy coat of arms: Purity will always Conquer.

It was love.

He loved her. In the alleyway, he was prepared to kill for her like a Malfoy or Black would, but he realized that it wasn't what he wanted to do anymore. He had other options besides the Black and Malfoy way.

No, Draco wanted to live — for her, with her, around her.

She was a key that unlocked things in him he never thought he could have, to things he could be and do that he never allowed himself to imagine.

His breath was heavy. He thought he might start hyperventilating again, but his grip on her shoulder steadied him.

Her fingers wrapped around his unmangled forearm and squeezed, an acknowledgment .

This was Real. Definitely real.

"I always take care of my own, Hermione," he breathed out.

Draco knew she understood his meaning by the way she nodded slightly at him.

He knew he would have to say more, that he would need to "speak plainly," as everyone was so oft to tell him to do. He would. Hermione deserved that, but at the moment his confession contented her enough to lean in to him and wrap him in an embrace.

Draco winced slightly at the pressure of her body on him and the tightness with which she squeezed him.

He was sore everywhere.

"Sorry," she said, loosening her grip a little, but still resting her head on his shoulder.

It was faint, but he could smell the vanilla and rose. He could feel her heartbeat on his chest, and her breath on his neck. He brushed his lips across the top of her head, and wound a curl through his fingers.

A soft knock sounded at the door, and neither witch or wizard jumped away from each other, as if the display was perfectly normal and welcome for anyone to see.

Hermione lifted her head slowly to look at the arrival, the movement revealing the doorway to Draco that was filled by his tall and broad-shouldered mind healer.

"Rivington," Draco said, and he eyed the man smugly.

"Healer Rivington," Hermione said, standing and moving to extend her hand to the man, "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Oh, I know who you are," Rivington said, giving Draco his own smirk from over the witch's shoulder before taking her hand, "It is truly an honor, Miss Granger. Your magical welfare initiatives are all the rage in many of my circles."

Hermione smiled, but Draco could see the blush creeping up her neck when she turned back to him.

"Should I… leave you to it then?" Hermione said and looked between the men.

"That's up to Draco, I have no problem—"

"She can stay," Draco said, and Hermione nodded as she stepped aside to let Rivington have a look at him.

The healer put the tip of his wand to his mouth in thought.

"Don't go poking me with your stick, now," Draco said, curling his lip at the man in a sneer.

"I see you're back to your usual peacocking," Rivington said dryly as he studied Draco's face for several beats.

Hermione snorted from the foot of the bed, and Draco cut his eyes to her momentarily before giving his attention back to the healer.

Rivington waved his wand around and several whips circled Draco's head that must have meant something to the mind healer, because after a bit of muttering he eventually concluded, "You're free to go on my end. Though, I expect to see you at my office next week."

The older wizard waved his hand, clearing away the diagnostics, and jabbed Draco in the thigh with the tip of it before putting it away in his robes.

"Right," Draco laughed, "I'll be there."

Hermione took that as her cue to begin gathering up some of her things, stuffing way too many books into a way too small purple pouch.

Rivington gave Draco a wink, and then nodded to Hermione.

"Miss Granger," he said in parting, and exited the room.

Hermione smiled at the wizard, and continued collecting her things.

"What happens now?" Draco asked, suddenly aware he was unsure where his clothing was from the night before, so he couldn't just up and walk out quite yet.

"Well, you'll need to be cleared by the Hex Specialists," she said, eyes still in her bag.

"...And after that?" He asked, and she froze, understanding his meaning.

She looked up at him, and Draco thought the sigh she made might have sounded annoyed, but her voice was sweet and smooth when she said, "Whatever we want, Draco."

He nodded his head at her a few times, then a sudden thought struck him as he squinted his eyes at her playfully.

"What are you going to tell your friends?" he asked, and he cocked his head at her.

She rolled her eyes and went back to stuffing things into her bag, and this time Draco was sure she was annoyed with him.

"I imagine they'll be quite shocked," he chided.

Hermione looked back up at him darkly, and gave him a noncommittal shrug before saying, "They already know."


1 year later.

Draco Malfoy was sitting on Harry Potter's couch with a fire whiskey in his hand.

The same hand happened to be attached to an arm that was draped around a witch.

His witch.

Hermione Granger.

She leaned into him, allowing his chin to rest on her head, and he occasionally let his lips brush against her temple and hair.

He was ready to leave, but he'd indulge her a little longer.

Draco couldn't help himself when it came to her.

He'd suffer through time with her friends, time with her parents, time with his family, time at meetings to plan for the upcoming welfare events sponsored by the Malfoy Estate, anything to support her dreams, anything he needed to be for her.

But if he was honest with himself, he found some pleasure in it as well.

He cut his eyes to Ginny Potter who met his gaze.

She winked at him, a cheeky reassurance to a secret only the two of them in the room shared.

Tonight Draco would be asking Hermione to marry him.

He'd planned it all out, and she didn't suspect a thing.

Draco ran his lip through his teeth as he thought about how she might writhe underneath him after he asked her, or maybe he'd be able to watch the heirloom he'd plucked from his vaults glitter on her finger as she held him in place for her to suck him off.

Then she'd curl into him in their bed, he'd bury his face in her hair, and she would put her cold feet on his calves as they fell asleep together.

In the morning, he'd wake up with her hair in his mouth, and she'd giggle when she felt his hardness pressed against her bum, but she wouldn't let him kiss her until he went to the bathroom and brushed the morning breath away with her Muggle mint toothpaste.

Then, if he was lucky, they'd make love again.

And Draco was feeling very lucky these days.

Tonight, Hermione Granger would agree to be his— officially, legally, spiritually, magically. Because there are some things you can't go through in life and not fall for each other— like becoming better people, watching each other fall apart, helping each other achieve their dreams, and staying when things get uncomfortable and hard, just to name a few.

The wizard let his head fall back and he looked to the Potter's ceiling.

Merlin, he thought with mirth as his mind went to all the reasons he actually liked his life now.

His mother had started keeping her garden up again, and she was particularly proud of the hyacinths that were currently in bloom, a vase of which should be waiting on them when they returned to their flat tonight. His mother's contribution to the occasion.

Andromeda and her grandson had moved into the Manor with his mother, and he thought the addition of little Teddy running around had been a great contribution to his mother's continued recovery, and Ceely didn't seem to mind the added work the child brought to her either, even discouraging Andromeda at times from picking up after him.

"If Ceely takes care of the boy and the house, Mistress and her sister can have their talks and Mistress will keep getting better," Ceely had told Draco.

Keely was now the size of two potatoes stacked on top of each other and had a penchant for shiny things, often magic'ing Draco's valuables somewhere other than where he left them.

"Risly, where are my cufflinks, dammit, I'm not checking his nappy again!"

"Keely doesn't know he is being naughty, Master."

"I know that, but those are my best ones, the one's Hermione gave me, I'll buy him his own if he'll leave my shite alone!"

Hermione thought this was hilarious, of course.

Draco also continued his sessions with Rivington, once every other week, currently.

Draco's musing of his own good fortune and delight were suddenly interrupted when he felt Hermione move away from him slightly as she leaned forward, though he quickly realized it was done to pick up the Potter child who had crawled over to them.

She leaned back against him and placed James in her lap.

His mouth twitched upward. Draco had come to accept that he quite liked babies.

He moved his attention to Hermione who spoke animatedly to the child, and Draco let himself wonder if they might ever have one.

Draco let himself wonder lots of things these days. Dreams definitely outweighed his nightmares, as it were.

He'd worked hard, been bold, cunning, and loyal. He'd gathered his wits, earned wisdom, been brave, and had ambitions. And, most importantly, he'd loved .

Draco knew there would be other hardships, disappointments, even challenges to overcome in the future, but for the first time in his life, he wouldn't let that stop him.

In fact, he felt empowered to face them when they came, and he'd continue to hope for more good things.

Perhaps it was a shot in the dark, but those hadn't failed him yet.