Guilt kept them abated for now and the rest of her day with Draco was spent instead, in the library. She hadn't forgotten about Draco's botanical handwritten journal with illustrations of different ingredients and their possible outcomes and uses in potions. She found it again, this time, Draco wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, burying his face into her shoulder and subsequently hair. He inhaled and hummed lightly, swaying a little.
"Found my journals, have you?" Draco murmured into her neck before he looked at the open book in her hands.
"I was looking for texts on specifically muggle grown and gathered ingredients to use in my potions. More accessible at home." Hermione turned to look at him, and she blushed. "With not having a decent job and all that."
Draco hummed to confirm he was listening, and his forearms felt wonderfully solid around her ribcage. She found herself curling her fingers into his and holding tightly, liking the warmth of him in her palm as the other well practised hand balanced the journal without either of them looking at it really.
"I found this and it was wonderful. I had no idea you had a liking for potions, not like this." Hermione gave the book a little wave.
"It didn't happen at Hogwarts," Draco explained, still swaying with her. He took the journal in one of his hands and turned the page, studying his own work. Hermione realised he smelled like home to her because he must have spent a lot of time in the library, creating his own texts. She loved that about him and closed her eyes in giddy happiness for a second. "After the war-" Hermione's heart sped up, they never, no one ever, talked about the war anymore. "I was trying hard to bring up some kind of reputation so people would trust the Malfoys. Mother changed her name to Black again, and father is on his best behaviour in Azkaban. But there wasn't much I could do, not even with Potter's words in the media. I thought I was dying. I thought I would be dead because no one wanted anything to do with me."
Hermione turned and kissed the side of his mouth, tender, apologetic in any role she had to play in that, because guilt of a different kind had twisted slightly in her stomach.
"I'm sorry," She knew it was too little too late, but Draco gave her a small smile, conveying that the emotions he was speaking about now were something of his past and he came to terms with it a long time ago. "Really, we all struggled and I never thought-"
"It's fine, Hermione." Draco kissed her temple then her cheek, then softly on her mouth. "Truly. I'm alright."
"You turned to potioneering as a hobby?" Hermione looked at the book held by one of their hands each.
"I did, and the forest as I assume you correctly surmised, was a main ground for me to gather what muggle ingredients, and surprisingly some magical ingredients, I needed in an effort to clear my head." Draco pointed at a mushroom. "I began experimenting with them and started first with how ingredients changed well known potions. I began creating my own little experiments later on, and just fell down the rabbit hole. This library was my main aid and helped me incredibly, so I thought I'd add back to it. I'm thinking of erecting a greenhouse, for specialised ingredients I can't find outside my door."
"You're amazing." Hermione smiled, touching the illustration delicately and feeling the texture of dried ink at her fingertips.
Draco said nothing and Hermione found her voice a whisper when she spoke.
"I started potions too, as a hobby." Draco squeezed her reassuringly. "It was all I could do to keep sane, no job prospects and everything."
"The world has gone mad that no one wanted to hire Hermione Granger." Draco chuckled.
"They did, sort of. But, only when Hermione Granger was attached to anything. It was like they were creating a job for me, otherwise they'd ignore my applications." Hermione deflated a little.
"I- what's wrong with that?" Draco's brow was furrowed very slightly.
"Well, it's either they create a job for me I never applied for, or they fire someone and I take their place, which when we're all struggling, but I'm semi comfortable at home with my parents, seemed very unfair to a witch or wizard who would simply be replaced by me because of my name." Hermione explained and hoped it didn't sound mental.
"Hmm." Draco kissed her and turned her around, sliding his journal onto the little platform of a shelf. "It took forever for me to find a job, and when I did, it was grunt work." He paused, like he was gathering his thoughts to best present a case. Hermione smiled despite herself. "But I did use my name, because, well, it would be a nasty shock, wouldn't it, to find Britain's most hated teenager in your office instead of some better qualified bloke named Preston or something."
Hermione laughed and Draco was grinning. He continued, "When you tell them it's you, they know what they're getting. And you can demand in your terms, because you're you and they will hire you, that no one else be fired."
"But that doesn't sound-" Hermione began to protest.
"Don't give Preston a job, Hermione. He doesn't deserve it." Draco said mock seriously. Hermione laughed and realised her body had become giddy, like she was desperate to be free now that something had shifted inside of her. She needed to amend the applications and put her name on everything. And make demands. Her stomach dropped.
"But, what if they think I'm conceited." Hermione groaned, her little inflation of happiness dulled considerably. Draco huffed a breath, a short laugh through his nose.
"If anyone knows Hermione Granger, they know she is not in fact conceited and every bit of brilliant anyone has ever met." Draco dipped his mouth to hers and kissed her. Then the corner of her mouth, to her jaw, to her ear and she giggled at first because it tickled but warmth enveloped her so completely like a cosy blanket that she wanted to sink into the feeling and never come up for air.
"Do you have a potions room?" Hermione asked, hopeful and also desperate to take things slowly, at least until their date because that guilt of disappointing her parents had not quite worn off yet. Draco laughed but still held her.
"Come on, Granger, I'll show you my potions room." Draco took her hand, releasing her from his complete warmth pressed against her so she could breathe and he tugged her along, out of the library, down a corridor, and to what felt like the dungeons.
"Uh." Hermione looked at him reproachfully. "Why-"
"I found that my ingredients last better in the dark." Draco explained before she could finish her question. "Plus, no…guests can interrupt the process since it's so far away from the tour."
"Oh, that makes sense." Hermione knew he was a thoughtful person, but holy Merlin, she found he was extraordinarily organised too. Not because of how he planned things concerning his house or even considering a greenhouse, but when she found his ingredients, she almost squealed in delight. They were catalogued and displayed on shelves like a library, from dried herbs, to preserved, to animal bits, and live plants. She forgot Draco for a moment as she gazed at everything, one row, one item at a time.
"I know I've said this, but you're amazing." She breathed finally when she heard his feet shuffle nervously. Only then did she notice a small potion in the corner, simmering slightly above a slightly lavender coloured flame. It smelled of nothing and made no noises.
"What's-" Hermione started to ask but he shifted nervously again.
"Uh- an invisibility potion." Draco's ears were pink even in the low light of the dungeon. "The ones we know how to make last a little while and they're basically useless."
"So you're…?" Hermione asked, encouraging him to continue.
"I'm making them last longer- uh-" Draco blushed and Hermione wanted to tease him forever, "I mean, just, it's more potent. I intended to present it to the Auror Unit."
"You're giving it to them for free?" Hermione asked, slightly horrified. Draco didn't answer right away and Hermione thought she had her answer, so her indignation caused her to continue, "You can't do that! The scumbags."
"Not free, no." Draco smiled but shook his head and approached her, pulling her into a hug. "Just a discount for now. I have to stay rich somehow, Hermione. I don't intend on selling myself short."
Hermione huffed but allowed him to hug her and hugged him back.
Just then, a pop echoed into the room and they looked around to find Goose with a letter in his hand, outstretched, at the same time, his golf ball eyes were diverted to anywhere but either of them. Hermione wanted to laugh at the poor thing's earnestness in avoiding invading their privacy.
"Thank you, Goose." Goose glanced at Draco before doing a little courtsey. "Have you and the other elves eaten for the day?"
"Yes, master Draco." Goose nodded vigorously at the floor.
"Have you all been eating enough or just hardly?" Draco's voice was stern, like he was talking to a younger family member and scolding them for not better caring for themselves.
"Yes, master Draco. We is having food at breakfast, lunches, and dinner as master has instructed." Hermione disentangled herself from Draco and finally Goose looked at his master. Draco sighed and dragged a hand down his face.
"Come on, Goose. You know it's not a command. And you know you're all free elves, remember?" Draco stooped and tweaked Goose's oversized waistcoat, the little pointy bits of it just touching the floor.
"Yes, master." Goose fidgeted. Draco sighed again and stood.
"You're free to go, Goose. Thank you for bringing the letter." Draco said and Goose disappeared with a pop. He looked at Hermione, his face wearing an apologetic expression. "I've been trying for years with them, but they really have no idea how to just, exist without having to serve a family 24/7."
"You trying at all sometimes blows my mind, but I like it and I'll adjust." Hermione looked adoringly at him and she liked that she meant what she said. "What's in the letter?"
Draco looked at it. "Oh, it's addressed to you. Sorry." He held it out for her to take and she recognised Ginny's handwriting, then slipped the paper out.
Hermione,
Minor help needed. I think it might concern you. It's about some joke shop stuff, could you come to Grimmauld Place at your earliest convenience?
Gin
"I guess, I'm being summoned," Hermione waved the letter a little exasperatedly. "I have to go to Grimmauld Place. I don't suppose your fireplace is hooked up to the Floo, is it?"
"It is. You're welcome to use it." Draco started drifting to the door and Hermione followed.
"I'm sorry to leave-" Hermione was genuinely sorry.
"You don't belong to me Hermione. You're allowed to spend time with other people despite us being so…new." Draco smiled gently at her and guided her back through the hallways and into the living room that held two fireplaces due to its length.
"This one." Draco stopped at the furthest and tapped the wall, which opened up by way of one brick sliding smoothly from its slot in the wall and revealing a hidden pocket of floo powder. Hermione hesitated.
"Do you want to come with me?" She breathed out in one quick breath. She was not ready for the day to end, because she felt if it did, that would be it. The day would be a dream and he'd forget about his professions and think it was all a dream and snap back into his right mind.
"To Potter's?" Draco tilted his head, amused. "It sounds like you're needed, not me." Hermione shrank about two inches, "But if you want me there, Hermione, I will come."
"Really?" Hermione perked up. Draco nodded and she realised she had a firm grasp on his hand this entire time and possibly ended circulation to all of his fingers. "Sorry." Draco simply pecked her on the mouth and laughed a little.
She confidently took a handful of the powder and stepped into the fireplace, knowing Draco would follow.