Most days after Hermione had a memory restoration session with Healer Huxley, she was left physically and mentally drained. Draco had come to expect as much, and as she was meeting with the healer twice a week, he didn't always know whether he should anticipate seeing her or not.
Some days after her sessions she went home alone, and others she wanted company. Either way, Draco wasn't keen to push when he could only imagine the amount of strain she was under.
After the last session before his father's trial, she invited him to her flat, but neither of them had the energy for much.
He brewed her a pot of tea, situated her in bed with a book, and lounged at her side in silence.
With a yawn, she marked her page and set the book aside not long after, turning to face him. "I spoke to Healer Huxley today," she began, and something in her tone made him tense. "About how much magic I should be doing."
"And?" Draco ducked his chin, meeting her apprehensive stare.
"He thinks I should continue restricting myself," she said with a sigh, scrubbing at one eye. "I told him I want to learn to Apparate so you don't have to keep transporting me everywhere."
"I don't mind," Draco said. "And in fact, I like it because I get to see you."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Surely you don't care to cart me around everywhere like a chauffeur. And I'm perfectly capable of taking the underground."
"I would prefer you not take the underground after your appointments," he drawled, "and you know that."
Just in case something happened, he didn't want her to be anywhere he couldn't easily reach her.
"Right," she pressed, "but you'll be back working soon."
Draco swept a hand through his hair; he didn't want to rehash any old debates, and it was a matter they had already discussed at length. "What did Huxley say?"
"That Apparition is too intensive," she muttered, looking put out. "And he wants me to work towards advanced magic with more caution." She sighed, offering an apologetic smile. "I know you don't mind Apparating me to my appointments, and I love you for your concern―I just don't want you to feel obligated."
"I don't," he said, "but I understand. I know how self-reliant you are and I don't want to minimise that." He tugged one of her curls between his fingers with a sigh. "Huxley's right; Apparition is difficult even with full knowledge of the mechanics of it, and after your sessions you're so drained as it is. When I'm back at work we'll simply have to figure something else out."
She remained silent for a moment; long enough that Draco could sense the cogs whirring. "Hopefully the sessions won't go on all that much longer. Healer Huxley thinks we're making progress―whatever that means, when this is all so experimental in the first place." Eyeing him for a moment, her brows high, she bit down on her lower lip. "I've also been thinking about something else."
"Of course you have," Draco said with a snicker. "And what's that?"
Her lips twitched. "That I don't know how much longer I want to work at the café. I suppose it was one thing when I was studying at Queen Mary, but now... I don't know that I'll want to keep studying in the Muggle world with everything I've learned recently. I thought I might try to find a job somewhere in the magical world."
Draco wondered whether she might bring up the topic at some point, but he hadn't wanted to seem as though he were pressing the matter. "I think you could work anywhere you like."
"Even without my memories?" she asked, shifting closer into his side. "And without a fully functional knowledge of magic?"
He fixed her with a stare. "You're relearning your magic and improving every day. I'm sure there are plenty of things you could do in the wizarding world that wouldn't require advanced magic. Although I couldn't say for certain; you might be better off asking Healer Huxley what he thinks."
"I already have," she breathed, eyes alight with warmth as she captured his lips in a brief kiss. "He thinks I could manage something simple―that it might even help to be in a magical atmosphere―but advised against anything too intensive while we're meeting twice a week."
"That's fair." Draco pulled her in for another kiss.
Deepening the kiss, her tongue grazed his as she shifted on the bed and dragged him down to lay next to her. She met his eyes for a moment, fidgeting with his collar. "I thought you might help me pick something."
He slid a hand along her spine, hitching her against him, and her legs tangled with his atop the blankets. "I can do that."
Hermione kissed him again, her fingertips drifting along the curve of his jaw, and he melted into her touches, soft and indolent. His eyelids fluttered, heart pulsing a rapid cadence in his chest, but he only drew her closer and basked in the feel of her as they snogged for what could have been minutes or hours.
So many elements of his life left him mentally exhausted, and Hermione was the one to rejuvenate him every time.
He could only hope it would last.
"I saw your mother yesterday at Malfoy Manor," Andromeda said, her tone almost too casual to broach such a topic. Draco's brows lifted in surprise but she went on. "I can't say she was altogether thrilled to see me, but I think the shock was enough that she didn't immediately ask me to leave."
Draco folded his hands in his lap. For a moment, he didn't respond, his gaze landing on Potter and Theo showing Teddy some tricks on his child's broom. Hermione observed the three of them from the ground.
"Every time I've been to see her this week, she's outright refused to discuss the trial," he mused.
Andromeda sighed, catching his eye. "I suspect she simply doesn't want to acknowledge the truth of the matter. The Auror's office has surely dredged forth enough evidence to convict, and the Wizengamot doesn't want leniency." Her tone shifted towards apologetic as she added, "It doesn't look good for Lucius and his cohorts."
"I know." Draco's eyes landed again on Potter, who had kept him as up to date on the situation as he could manage. "It's a precarious situation because if former Death Eaters were to get away with something that might resemble an uprising... well, it wouldn't be good."
The pair of them fell silent, sipping glasses of lemonade.
"How are you holding up?" Andromeda asked, as though uncertain whether it was her place. Draco still didn't feel entirely comfortable with the woman, but he couldn't deny the familiarity that came from being not only related but living a similar reality.
"Honestly?" Draco offered a shrug. "It's been a lot to take in, but I lost my father years ago." He'd had time to get used to the idea that his father's soul may soon be no longer, and while the idea of it stung, he didn't know exactly how he felt. "I'd like to get back to work to have something to do―although it's been convenient to be off work right now with Hermione, I miss having that sense of purpose." He turned back to Andromeda, pensive. "At the same time, it's a strange dynamic now. Despite the years of effort I've put in at the Auror's office, still so few of them trust me. It doesn't bode well for the future, and I can't help but wonder some days whether it was all a mistake."
Eyeing him for a moment, Andromeda nodded and offered a thin smile. "I can only imagine how torn you must feel. But your efforts haven't been for naught; those who doubt you will see otherwise in time."
"I hope so," he returned quietly. He caught Hermione's eye across the yard and felt his lips pull into a smile. "Will you be coming to the trial?"
"Yes. Teddy will be staying with the elf for the day."
Draco hummed as Hermione walked over to join them. "I spoke with Healer Brooks, and he doesn't think my mother will be well enough to attend. Although of course, I don't know that she actually wants to―or that it'll be in anyone's best interest. Her health has been fragile at best lately, and I can't imagine watching the trial will do her any good."
"I suspect you're right," Andromeda said with a sigh. "But regardless..."
He blew out a breath. "Yeah."
Hermione settled into the seat beside him, dropping a hand to his knee. "Are you feeling alright?"
Looping an arm around her back, Draco assessed her for a moment. "Yeah, of course." She had been nothing but supportive as the date of his father's trial drew near, despite the immense mental strain she had been under from her treatment sessions.
And although she hadn't expressed such, he knew she was disappointed that nothing had yet come of it, even though Healer Huxley continued to offer assurances that she was on track as far as he could tell.
The idea had implanted itself in the back of Draco's mind, that if only they knew what happened when she went to Australia, it might make the entire process easier. But of course, the only person who knew the details of her trip had been Hermione herself―and according to every record he and Potter had scoured, she had been deliberate in her preparations to keep it that way.
He couldn't help but wonder what else there was to the matter.
The bulk of his mental energy had been spent in preparing himself for his father's trial the next day. Draco could feel a grey cloud of uncertainty encroach and he turned to face Hermione. "Did you try flying?"
"No," she said, drawing the syllable out as she ducked her chin. "Harry tried to explain the basics to me, but it doesn't sound very enjoyable."
Draco snickered. "It's a blast. Come on; I'll show you." When she held her ground, trepidation seizing her countenance, he added, "I could use the distraction?"
"Fine." Relenting, she stood from her seat, shooting Andromeda a glance. The older woman simply grinned in return.
"It'll be fine," Andromeda said. "Draco won't let you fall or I'll give him shit."
Rolling his eyes, Draco summoned a broom from the shed. "Draco won't let you fall because Draco isn't an arse." He allowed the broom to hover for a moment, gesturing with a hand. "Climb on."
With a bit of a wince, Hermione swung one leg over the handle, sitting carefully as though she anticipated it to collapse beneath her weight. "Not so fast, please. Harry and Theo were flying quite fast."
Draco had been watching them keep pace with Teddy's careful speed, but he offered a solemn nod all the same. "Not too fast until you get used to it. Promise." Her entire body seized with tension when he climbed on behind her, slipping one arm firmly around her waist and taking hold of the handle ahead of her with the other. She melded herself back against him, and Draco snickered as her fingers clung to his hand on her middle.
Leaning in close to her ear, he asked, "Do you trust me?"
"Of course." At her easy and instant affirmation, Draco froze; she turned her head halfway towards him and offered a smile. Her tone softened. "Of course I trust you."
Draco released a breath, planted a kiss to her jaw, and said, "Then you can relax. You've nothing to worry about."
He hadn't anticipated the ease with which she followed the directive; he also hadn't imagined the way he struggled for words to convey his thoughts. Before the swelling of emotion in his chest could get the better of him, he planted his feet and kicked off from the ground.
Hermione tensed a little, as though caught off guard, but within a few seconds she settled back into his chest. He could feel her steady breathing as his hand inched up her sternum, holding her tightly against him.
Draco had never been much of a teacher, and flying wasn't any different, when the act was so instinctive at the best of times. But after he flew them around the expansive garden a few times, easing the broom into gentle lifts and turns, he planted one of her hands onto the handle ahead of her.
"No," she breathed, tightening her grip on his hand. "I don't want to fly."
"Trust me?" he repeated. Without a word, she released his hand and allowed him to curl her fingers around the handle. "Steering is intuitive," he said quietly beside her ear, resting his hand atop hers to ease the broom left. Next he shifted her hand to lift up on the handle, then back down to steady off again. "As is altitude. Velocity is a matter of leaning forward or back―and you'll grow accustomed to how the broom reacts to movement with a little practice."
"Okay," she murmured, releasing a long breath. "Okay, I can do that."
As he released her fingers, tightening his hold on her middle, Draco observed while she tested her control of the broom. After edging the broom too far in one direction, she over-corrected, jerking the handle too far the other way.
Draco snickered at the strangled noise that left her mouth, and simply adjusted the trajectory. "Every broom is a little different, and this is a racing broom so it's particularly responsive. If you want to practice flying, you might prefer a more well-rounded model for greater stability. I wouldn't recommend learning on a racing broom."
"Is yours for racing?" she asked, the words falling a little breathy as she fixed her concentration into navigating them.
Humming, he rested his chin on her shoulder. "It is. Most Quidditch players use racing models."
Hermione remained silent for several minutes as she angled the broom back across the yard, her gaze tight and focused, and when she leaned forward a little, Draco kept one hand near the handle in case she took off too fast. He had enough faith in his abilities to recover the broom if she were to jolt forward, but he didn't want her to have a bad experience in her first new memory of flying.
"I suppose I can see why this is enjoyable," she said at last, a burst of exhilaration in her voice that made him smile. "Although I can't imagine wanting to fly whilst simultaneously throwing balls around."
"Quidditch is one way to enjoy flying," Draco mused, "but not the only way. Flying in itself can be incredibly relaxing." She eased off the speed a little, the movement smooth and easy, and he added, "You're a natural, by the way."
"Not a natural if I've already learned it before," she teased.
Draco snorted. "In my memory, you weren't particularly proficient."
When she shifted a little against him, he felt his body flare with attention; he wasn't certain whether she hadn't done it on purpose. "Perhaps I didn't have a good teacher before."
Sliding his hand a little higher on her front, he grazed the underside of her breast with his knuckles. "Perhaps," he echoed on a breath, brushing a kiss to her jaw. She squirmed a little at the sensuous contact, but Draco released her; they were high enough that no one would be able to pay them any mind, but he would sooner wait until they were home.
As though following the same train of thought, she rolled her head to face him but a bright glimmer danced in her eyes that he recognised. "It's probably time for dinner."
Draco ducked his chin, took control of the broom once again, and eased them back towards the ground.
He landed them beside Theo and Potter, who stood and observed as they dismounted.
"Hermione flying on a broom with Draco Malfoy," Potter muttered, folding his arms. "Now that is something I never thought I'd see."
Hermione simply flashed a grin, swatted him in the arm, and scooped Teddy up into her arms to haul the boy into the house. Releasing a breath, Draco stood alongside the others in silence for a moment as he watched her meet up with Andromeda.
"You've got it bad, mate," Theo said, clapping him on the shoulder.
Lifting his brows, Draco gave him a look; there was no way to deny it. "Weird fucking world, eh."
"That's for sure," Potter returned, slinging an arm around Theo's shoulders. His face sobered. "At any rate, we'll be seeing you at the trial tomorrow."
"Yeah." Draco jammed his hands in his pockets.
"You realise," Potter went on, carefully, "if they render the verdict guilty―"
"They'll do the Kiss," Draco drawled, grinding his jaw. "Yeah."
Theo grimaced, his hazel eyes darting to Draco's. "Are you sure you want to be there for that?"
Draco brandished his hands. "I'm not going to miss the bloody trial. It is what it is. It's not like it'll be a surprise if that's how it plays out, and I know how these things go by now. You lot have got the evidence for the Wizengamot to convict, yeah?"
Casting Theo a furtive glance, Potter shrugged. "Not meant to talk about it in front of the civilian."
Theo jabbed an elbow into his ribs, but the words gave Draco enough of an answer, and he released a long breath through his nose. "Technically," he muttered, "I'm a civilian right now too."
"And thank fucking Merlin that won't be the case much longer," Potter said with an uncharacteristic burst of emphasis. "I can only imagine Robards means to bring you back on once all this mess is sorted, yeah?"
Draco shrugged, glancing back towards the house. "I think so. We haven't spoken since Hermione went to St Mungo's. He inferred as much anyway, but I haven't wanted to get my hopes up."
Potter scoffed. "You didn't deserve being treated like a criminal just because it's your bloody father on the stand."
"Thanks, Potter," Draco returned, taken aback at the vehemence; he caught Theo's gaze lingering on him another moment. "I appreciate that."
"And besides," Potter added with a grin as the three of them began towards the house, "I've missed throwing curses at you all day."
"There it is."
Draco sat at his mother's bedside, watching as she stared through the window.
"You look nice," she offered without looking his way.
He released a sigh. He had donned a crisp white shirt with grey trousers and tie, and dressed in his best robes. His father's trial was at noon, and it wouldn't do to look disrespectful. "Thanks."
Narcissa's gaze lingered on the window, but he wasn't entirely certain whether she was seeing the gardens beyond. "Andromeda came to visit me on Saturday." She fell silent for a moment. "But you already knew that."
"I thought it might be nice for the two of you to connect."
Pursing her lips, she rolled her head to stare at the ceiling. "It was, yes. She's going to join me for tea tomorrow."
Draco reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "That's good. I'm glad to hear that."
"Strange to think we haven't spoken so for many years," Narcissa went on, the words carrying the weight of idle conversation.
She was significantly paler than she had been the last time he had been to visit, and according to Lucy, her energy had taken another decline for the worse over the last week. He forced a swallow as despair threatened to creep in. "Are we going to talk about father's trial at all?"
"No," Narcissa whispered, turning towards the window once more. Her hand weakened in his, and her eyelashes grew wet. "No, I don't think we are."
Sinking a little deeper into his seat, Draco felt the strength ooze from him like honey. He clasped her hand a little tighter until she began to drift off, and he felt the cold dread settle within him that he had done his best to fend off for weeks.
But he could no longer put off the inevitable any longer. He ducked in, brushing a kiss to her temple, and rose from his seat. After a quiet farewell to Lucy, Draco Apparated through the wards to the Ministry.
Author's Note: Hey everyone, thanks for reading! A bit of a transitional chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. Thirty will be the trial xo
Much love and many hugs to my wonderful pre-readers on this story, Kyonomiko and FaeOrabel.
