"So?" Potter's expectant gaze landed on Draco as he sank into the next seat with a swig of ale. "How was Australia? I've hardly had two minutes alone with Hermione today. I hear it went well enough?"
"Well enough," Draco allowed, though within his mind's eye, he could still see the way Hermione had deflated upon learning the truth. "I think she still has a lot to sort through, and—knowing Hermione—she'll want to be thorough."
Their final day in Brisbane had been quiet and peaceful, just the two of them exploring, but all the while, Draco could sense the weight she carried. After everything she had been through since they'd reconnected, he wasn't surprised―but a part of him wished he could help.
"That she will," Potter returned. "And she'll want to do it alone."
Draco released a breath. "Yeah."
For a moment, they both stared across the yard. Although Potter had said they would keep the gathering small, a group of Hermione's friends from Hogwarts had been by her side ever since they arrived at Andromeda's for an impromptu birthday celebration. Sensing that she would want to spend time catching up, Draco had largely left her to it. It wasn't that he didn't want to get to know her friends better, but there would be plenty of time for that.
"She isn't like she used to be," Potter spoke again at last. "She's... I don't know. Quieter―more easily distracted."
"She's been through a lot," Draco reasoned.
Potter took another drink. "She has. It isn't a bad thing; it's just interesting. Like the drive to prove herself has faded a little with time. Sometimes I worry about her, but she's strong; always has been."
"Just wait," Draco said with a smirk, "I'm sure that drive will come back once she properly begins her Unspeakable training. At any rate, I think she's doing okay. She hasn't dumped my arse yet, at least."
He caught the glimmer in Potter's eye, half expecting a derisive retort. When Potter only remained silent, an indulgent smile tugging at his mouth, Draco cocked a brow. "Even I could have come up with half a dozen jabs in response to that."
"Oh, they're right here." With a grin, Potter tapped two fingers to his temple. "But I'm not going to say anything." His expression sobered, and Draco sensed the unspoken continuation for several tense moments. "You've earned my respect, Malfoy. And hers."
Draco didn't know that he was quite ready to unpack the way the blatant affirmation felt, but his chest grew tight, his hands suddenly anxious. He reached for his drink and took a swig, then ground out a low, "Thanks, Potter."
"From everything she's said to me," Potter went on quietly, "I know she appreciates all you've done for her. Maybe more than she's able to let on right now."
Letting his gaze drift across the yard again, Draco watched the genuine smile that spread across her face as she talked with Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. Her eyes caught his for a moment, the smile softening into something different—something he recognised as the one she reserved for him. His heart stuttered at the sight of it.
"In case you haven't noticed," Draco said brusquely, to keep the sudden swell of emotions at bay, "she's been by my side through quite a bit recently as well. I suppose it goes both ways."
"I suppose it does."
Merlin, just the thought of the pair of them sharing conversation and a drink would have been laughable six months prior. Never mind the fact that Potter had, somehow, become one of the select handful of people Draco knew he could depend upon the most.
At the thought, Theo swooped in and collapsed into the seat between them with an assessing gaze. "You do realise it's Hermione's birthday party and the two people she wants to spend the day with most are over here ignoring her?"
Draco clicked his tongue. "She likes you more than enough for both of us."
Theo preened and quipped, "It is true. She's rather fond of me."
"She's spent plenty of time with me lately," Draco returned. "She'll be happy to have some time to catch up with her old friends, I imagine. Besides―we're seeing her parents tomorrow for dinner as well. First time since her memories came back."
Both Theo and Potter cringed, and Draco couldn't deny he felt a little of the same. Although he'd met her parents before, it had only been brief visits in limited doses before Hermione had the full extent of understanding. This would be the first time he would spend any significant length of time with them, and he couldn't help the way old insecurities bled to the surface.
A part of him still dreaded what they might have heard about him in the past.
"Oh," said Potter suddenly, "you'll enjoy this. Someone"―his accusatory glare slid towards Theo―"decided the two of us should try yoga while you and Hermione were in Australia."
"You didn't," Draco choked.
Theo released an exaggerated, arduous sigh and held up his hands in surrender. "We did―and okay, I might have accidentally signed us up for the advanced class. It was a bloody disaster."
Potter only cocked a brow, unimpressed. Draco winced.
"If it helps," he said, sipping his ale, "it gets easier. If you tell Hermione, she'll want the four of us to attend together."
On one side of the garden, George Weasley demonstrated several flashy Quidditch tricks to Teddy, who clapped with delight while Andromeda and Huxley watched on while in quiet conversation. Draco skimmed the gathering; it was almost surreal to think of how much had changed.
But in some strange way, he felt as though he belonged, more than he had anywhere in years.
He caught Hermione's gaze again, and in the thin smile on her face, he caught the first signs of strain. She lifted her brows, tilting her head to the side, and his own smile dropped as he ducked his chin.
Even though she'd regained her memories, he knew she still struggled with more than she liked to let on.
Finishing the last of his drink, he rose from his seat with a quiet, "Excuse me." He slipped into the gathering with a hand to the small of her back and offered a nod to her friends; he ducked in to murmur in her ear, "Are you feeling alright?'
"I could use a breather," she allowed, quietly enough so no one else could hear.
Hermione had been back to see Huxley only once since returning from Australia, though she would continue her treatment for a short while longer to ensure everything in her mind was functioning as it should. Planting a kiss against her temple, he murmured against her skin, "Walk with me."
She gave him a gratified nod and fell into step as they slipped away from the rest of the group. Draco led her towards the expansive grounds beyond the rest of the gathering, and for several minutes they walked in silence.
"I've been thinking a lot," Hermione said, at last, her gaze carefully fixed away. "About that vial of memories."
Draco remained silent. After discovering the truth in Australia, she opted to wait on deciding whether or not she wanted to watch and reclaim the final missing memories. She'd left them untouched in the small satchel she found in the locker, along with her old wand.
To Draco's surprise, she had decided to continue using the wand she'd purchased with him on La Rue Mystique.
At length, she went on with a quiet breath. "I'm going to restore them into their rightful place. I have all the rest of my memories back, the good and the bad―and this just feels like the final step towards putting all of this behind me, whole and in one unbroken piece. I know it's going to be difficult to deal with at first, but ultimately for the best."
Draco nodded, tugging her hand into his, planting a kiss on her knuckles. "I'll support whatever you want to do."
"I think it'll be a good thing," she pressed on. "Especially with my Unspeakable training starting next week."
it would be a big step, and Draco could sense her hesitation, but he only pressed a kiss to her brow. "You'll be great."
And even though he knew she would enter a world filled with secrets―the deepest and most hidden secrets of magic and the universe―he also knew how excited she was. How valuable it would be for her to sink into a career that truly spoke to her finally. For so long, she had coveted knowledge, and Draco knew it was the ideal place for her to expand upon everything she had already learned.
"Yeah," she said, gazing across the yard towards the setting sun. "It's going to be good. I know it is."
At the shimmer within her gaze, as she turned towards him, Draco felt a sudden flare of nerves. He'd been doing quite a lot of thinking as well, especially since returning from Australia.
Thinking about the future. About their future.
Some days he still wasn't quite certain what to make of everything that had transpired―with his mother and father and his relationship with Hermione. He fidgeted with her hand in his while he gathered his thoughts, watching as her expression became guarded in the prolonged silence.
"I've been thinking," he said at last, "and you don't need to say yes―you don't even need to respond right away. I only figured that―" he felt heat rise in his cheeks as the words faltered―"since we've practically been living together anyway―"
"Yes," she replied, a furrow forming between her brows. A soft, hesitant smile curled her lips. "I think it's a great idea."
Draco swallowed, his heart feathering a rapid pulse in his chest. Hermione had scarcely returned to her own flat other than to collect some clothes since they returned from Australia. And even when she'd stayed over in the past―after his mother passed away―he had only longed to see her again after she returned home.
However, at her easy confirmation, he felt some of the tension seep out through his skin, and a slow grin spread across his face.
"I mean," she pushed on, her cheeks pink, "realistically, it makes sense, doesn't it? That we aren't both paying for flats when we typically stay together anyway."
"Yes," Draco smirked. "It makes financial sense." He brushed the pad of his thumb across her hand, toying with another thought that had lingered in the back of his mind for a long time. "I don't know what I want to do with the Manor. I don't―I'm not sure that I'll ever want to live there again. And... call it premature, but your thoughts on the matter are important."
At that, her face softened, and she drifted a step closer so that she had to peer up at him. "That," she breathed, "is ultimately your decision. Obviously, your experiences growing up there were far from ideal, and during the war―I don't even know the extent of it. But I guess what you need to ask yourself is whether you can ever move past that well enough to start over."
He hadn't expected her to have a definitive answer―hell, he certainly couldn't expect her to make the decision for him. But while some part of him didn't want anything to do with it, another deeper part recognised that there was a chance he might want to raise a family of his own one day.
Still, he shrugged. "I could just sell it and buy another house."
"You could."
He thought of his mother's headstone in the small cemetery deep within the grounds, and his stomach churned at the thought. "Or," he murmured, glancing away, "I could have it completely redone."
Before she grew ill, Narcissa had put a lot of effort into renovations―particularly the areas of the manor where the Death Eaters had taken over.
"You could do that too," Hermione said, lips quirking. "I know I'm not very helpful―but I want it to be your decision. All I will say on the matter is that if you do sell the manor, you'll need to find somewhere else with a large enough library to hold all of your books."
Draco didn't dare speak the words out loud.
Maybe one day, they would be her books, too.
He felt it in the rapid pulse of his heart every time he looked at her. Felt the warmth of her kisses, the sparkle of her chocolate eyes on his.
Maybe it had been building within him since the first time he'd heard his name roll from her lips without the cold derision he'd come to know and expect.
The first time his heart had beat a little faster in her presence.
"The books will be a priority," he said, at last, planting a kiss into her curls. "I promise."
He couldn't quite rationalise the nerves that swelled within him. The slight quake in his fingers as he fastened the cufflinks at his wrists. Draco caught Hermione's eye in the mirror as he adjusted a lock of hair; his throat felt thick and cumbersome, and he couldn't swallow with ease.
She slipped up behind him, lacing her arms around his middle, and rested her head on the outside of his arm. "Why do you look like you're preparing for the gallows? You've met my parents before."
For longer than he would have liked, Draco didn't have an answer. He adjusted the Windsor Knot at his throat and squared his jaw. "I don't know. It feels different somehow."
"Different," she mused, her lips quirking with amusement. "Because I have my memories back? Or because we're going to be moving in together?"
His mouth felt like the desert. "Both."
Her expression faltered, and the smile dropped off. "Or are you second-guessing that?"
"What?" Draco's brows shot up, and he spun to face her. "No. Of course not. I want us to live together."
After they'd returned home from Andromeda's the night before, they'd discussed the matter in more detail. It hadn't been a complex debate to determine that they would keep Draco's flat; for one, he had already purchased it outright, and it was notably larger.
She smoothed a hand down his chest, straightening his tie. "Then what is it?"
Searching his thoughts for an answer, Draco came up blank. "I don't know. Maybe it just feels like... at last, everything is laid bare. We're finally on the same page―maybe I'm still afraid you're going to come to your senses and realise you don't want this."
Her face grew stern, and she clicked her tongue in disapproval. "I don't even want to dignify that with a response." But then her voice softened, and she wound her arms around his neck, mussing his hair intentionally. "You do know I love you, right?"
"Right," he muttered.
"And you know I wouldn't just say that if I didn't mean it." A hint of that sparkle returned to her eyes, and Draco gulped.
"Right."
"And you love me." Her voice dropped to a whisper, with just a hint of a question.
Draco released a sharp breath. "More than I know how to put into words."
Hermione pressed up on her toes, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. When she, at last, drew back, cheeks flushed, she smiled. "Then, as far as I can tell, this is all good. But I get it―Merlin knows I was terrified to meet your mother, even when I didn't remember her as your mother."
At the reminder, a bittersweet smile tugged at his own lips. A memory flickered within―he hadn't consciously suppressed it, but in the surreal blur that followed in the days after his mother's death, it had slipped his mind. "You know," he murmured, tugging one of her loose curls, "she really did like you. It was one of the last things she said to me―that she thought you were a good match after all."
Instantly, her eyes grew glassy, sadness furrowing her brow. "Draco... that means a lot to me. Thank you for sharing that."
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close into his chest. "It meant a lot to me, too," he said into her hair. "In the end."
Especially given the way many of their last arguments had been about his duties to his house―regarding whether or not he would be able to select a woman of his own choosing when the time came. A small voice―growing ever louder―suggested he'd already found her.
At last, she drew back, her eyes a little red but a brilliant smile tugging at her lips. She fidgeted with his shirt and said, "At any rate, you have nothing to be worried about. My parents already love you."
In the end, she was right. Draco knew most of his worries were unfounded, but there was a certain formality to the meeting that had left him feeling out of sorts.
Hermione's parents were overjoyed to see her and to hear about their trip. It had been an emotional meal, and her parents had simply been so grateful that Draco's fears that they might not truly accept him simply evaporated into the aether.
If anything, seeing Hermione's connection with her parents―despite everything, the time they'd spent apart, the fact that she'd cast a memory charm on them in the first place―left his own heart soft. She had ultimately been willing to sacrifice everything she had ever known at a chance to save them, and the realisation hit so much harder now.
Now that she had her parents and her memories back, along with the understanding of what it had all cost.
Draco knew she possessed a beautiful heart―more so than anyone he knew―and the fact that she had chosen him to share in her life left him both incredibly humbled and emotionally wrung out.
After dinner, he'd left Hermione with her mother, the pair of them reminiscing and teary-eyed on the sofa, and joined her father on the deck. His tie suddenly felt a little like a noose around his throat, but the man had been nothing but kind all evening.
"Thanks for dinner," Draco said in an effort to break the silence; he fought a sudden urge to cringe at himself.
Richard Granger simply leaned back in his seat, folded his hands across his middle, and eyed Draco for a moment. "Quite something, isn't it? Hermione regaining her memory after all this time."
With a polite nod, Draco replied, "It certainly is. She's worked hard in her cognitive therapy to get to this point."
The man remained silent for a moment. "As I hear it, you were an instrumental part as well."
"I don't know about that," Draco returned. He felt caught under the man's intense scrutiny, as though Mister Granger were attempting to piece him together into something that made more sense. "All I did was direct her to the right channels."
"Which shouldn't be understated."
Draco began to feel uneasy, and he fought the urge to shift in his seat when the man sighed at last.
"I'll be honest, Draco. You aren't at all like I expected." When Mister Granger hesitated, Draco's gaze slid sidelong; his palms grew damp. "I remember hearing your name when Hermione was young. She mentioned you on occasion, and I never would have imagined this."
With a wince, Draco muttered, "Growing up, I was not a very good person, sir."
To his surprise, Mister Granger only smiled. "So I've heard. But I've also heard, in spending time with Hermione since the two of you have reconnected, that you've obviously grown up. Something about that big war that happened in your world―Hermione's always been a little overprotective in sharing too much with us."
Draco sensed the words left unspoken―that her drive to protect her parents from the darkest parts of the wizarding world led to the current situation. Still, he only managed a nod. "Yes, sir. My family was on the other side of the war, and it led me down a path I'm not proud of."
"I've also heard a little about that," Mister Granger replied, his voice apologetic. "About your parents. I'm sorry to hear."
"Thank you." His throat felt thick, and Draco had no idea whether he was botching the opportunity to make a good impression on the man. "My father was in prison since I was eighteen, but my mother... we were close―or at least to a certain extent." He forced himself to sit a little straighter in his seat. "I've tried to make strides in my own life since the war. I've recently completed my training to become a certified Auror with the Ministry of Magic."
"Hermione's said as much. I'm afraid to say there's little about you she hasn't already shared with us." Again, the man looked amused. "And knowing Hermione, even when she didn't have her memories, that means something."
Draco felt oddly humbled. Hermione had visited her parents several times on her own since they'd all arbitrarily reconnected in London, but he could never have guessed she'd told her parents about him. It stirred a flutter within his chest―especially when he had spent so much of that precarious stretch of time expecting her to leave him when she finally remembered everything.
He cleared his throat. "I care quite a lot about your daughter."
"I can tell." Mister Granger gave a sharp nod, then offered a brisk smile. "Hermione can look after herself―but that's good enough for me."
The sentiment felt like acceptance, and in the moment, so much of the strain he'd been carrying dissolved. For months, he'd struggled with too much. He felt a slow grin spread across his face and sank back a little into his seat. "She absolutely can."
"Every so often, however," Mister Granger went on, "she needs somewhere to turn. And I'm glad she's found that in you. Thank you for being by her side when we weren't."
His chest grew tight, and Draco barely managed to hold his composure as he met the man's stare. "Thank you, sir. Hermione has been that person for me as well, more than I can even express."
The man's voice softened. "I'm glad to hear it."
As they fell into an easier silence, Draco felt eyes on him and turned to see Hermione watching him from near the house. She drifted over to his side; she looked depleted, but her eyes were bright. "Are you ready to go?"
"Whenever you are."
He could see the exact moment when the memories settled. It was different than watching the hidden memories reveal themselves, and Draco wasn't certain what to make of it.
Watching the last missing memories settle in, he tried to imagine the silver shimmer of them as they slotted back into the channels of her brain where they might have existed all along. He wondered idly whether the two of them ever would have connected if she hadn't lost her memories.
And where he might have ended up without her.
Hermione sat still before him, her shoulders straight but gaze unfocused. A devastated furrow pulled at her brow, and she sucked in a sharp breath―and when tears began to leak from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks, Draco tensed.
"Are you alright?"
She gave his hand a squeeze. "Yes."
It was simply another thing she had to go through on her own, but after their evening spent with her parents, Draco felt more certain than ever that his place was at her side. That it had been for a long time now, even when he consistently questioned whether he was enough.
For the first time in years, he allowed himself to believe the answer to be yes.
He wouldn't always be everything she needed, and he already knew sometimes he would fall entirely short. Life was never a steady, predictable path―he'd learned those lessons by hard ways time and again over the years. But knowing Hermione wanted him in her life shifted the struggles further away until they felt a bit less concrete. Like they couldn't quite reach him with the same voracity with which he'd grown accustomed.
As the tears dried to tracks along her cheeks, as her breathing evened out, and as the quake in her hands subsided, he caught her gaze. Merlin, he could never grow tired of the warmth in her eyes.
"It's okay," she whispered at last. She gave a shaky nod, as though not entirely certain, but her hand remained firm in his as she said again, "It's okay."
The moment was sobering, a relief, a swell and rise in Draco's chest. But then it faded away, and he was left with the brightness in her stare.
It was fitting, Draco thought, when she had been his light for so long—his lighthouse in the storm.
And he knew she would always guide him home.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading; a small epilogue will be posted in two days.
I have a few things to say, and first and foremost, thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story, and from the bottom of my heart, I hope you enjoyed it. I wanted to write a story that delved deeper into Draco as a character, allowing his development to drive the story more than the plot. I hope I achieved this in some small way. I appreciate every single one of you, and if you liked the story, I'd love to hear your thoughts.
For my FFN readers: for a while now I've been transitioning to AO3 as my primary platform (especially for explicit content), and if you're interested in my upcoming War AU fic, I'd ask that you join me for it on AO3. My username there is In_Dreams.
I'm expecting to launch in early February, and this is the working summary:
In theory, the task is simple: kill Draco Malfoy. In practice, putting a curse through the Dark Lord's favoured lieutenant will take everything Hermione has―especially since he's trying to kill her, too. Even more so when the lines between them start to blur. Post-Battle of Hogwarts War AU.
Come hang on twitter for more updates at indreamsink.
Thanks, and see you soon!
