Chapter Fifteen Developments
Draco returned to the office in a bad mood.
He hadn't forgotten Granger's request to speak to his parents, and after meeting them that morning he had decided it was even less likely to occur. He wasn't entirely sure what he should expect on his return to the Manor given what had occurred between them on Sunday, but he hadn't been expecting things to go swimmingly.
His father's already short fuse had been shortened by their argument, as evidenced by the fact that Lucius had all but ignored him, and Draco was certain that if it had been possible for his father to floo without touching him, he would have done so. His mother was a little more welcoming, although she seemed hesitant about him for a reason he couldn't divine. When he had ghosted the faintest suggestion of their talking to an Auror about a matter that might help the case as she buttoned up his father's coat, however, keeping back that it would be Granger, she had stiffened and become distant until they had parted company at the Ministry.
His mentioning them in Diagon Alley seemed to have jogged Granger's memory too, however, for her eyes locked with his the moment he entered the office with a hopeful expression that faded at his sour countenance. She was tactful enough to give him space to return to an even keel however, and Draco could feel her eyes on him, monitoring his mood and behaviour as she waited for an opportune moment. In that regard she was as calculating as any Slytherin.
They were alone in the room, as Potter was out doing damage control with the press, releasing an official statement and taking questions that were bound to be inflammatory. Draco rustled papers busily, determinedly keeping his eyes off Granger as though avoiding eye contact with her could put off the inevitable.
"I'd still like to speak to your parents, if possible, Draco." Hermione wasn't sure when she'd started using his first name, but now that she had started it seemed to have stuck. Regardless, he didn't seem about to question it.
Draco sighed, continuing to read through the list of theories she had given him about how Voldemort had constructed the spell for Dark Marks. He could understand the theory she had worked out behind the suggestions, but he had his reservations about whether it was possible to reverse engineer the creation of a spell. Even so, he scribbled in the occasional suggestion or adjustment. "It's really not the right time, Granger. I pitched the idea of talking to an Auror to my mother this morning and she wasn't best pleased." Oh, and I kind of blamed my father for screwing up my life with the whole Death Eater business last time we spoke, but that's no big deal.
"I don't blame her, but I really do think they might be able to help."
Draco huffed. "Can't you give me the questions to ask them then?"
Hermione sighed, and shook her head ruefully. "I need to be there. They might say something in passing that clicks, or I might think up some more questions as they speak. I have to be the one to do it – even if it means dealing with their anger. You understand?"
Draco shook his head firmly, the idea of putting Granger in the firing line of his parents repellent given what had already passed between them. "I know why you want to do it, Granger, but trust me when I say there is no point. You won't get anything useful. My father will be rude, my mother will be unhelpful, and you'll come out of it furious with both of them." He paused, trying to phrase his problem so that she could understand the futility of her request. "They won't see it as helping us with the case – they'll see it as a Ministry interrogation. And that it's you of all people – that's the cherry on top."
Hermione couldn't help the hurt that came into her expression at that, but knew that Draco's frustration was not directed at her. "If you're worried that their reaction to me might count against them in the ruling of their re-education classes, I can assure you of my impartiality. The two matters are entirely separate, and I promise you I will keep my personal feelings out of it. I don't even handle the decisions made by the board, and because I clearly have too much investment in your parents' case due to our personal history, I would refrain from influencing the outcome of the verdict in any case."
Draco shook his head, although he couldn't help but be impressed and grateful for her earnest pledge of impartiality. "It's not that."
"Then what then? Surely after their classes would be a perfect time," she wheedled determinedly.
Draco dropped his quill, exasperated, staring at her at last with a faintly aggrieved expression. "Do you never quit, woman?!"
Hermione had to restrain a slight smirk. "No."
He growled, glaring at her, although there was no real anger in the look, and went back to his work. After a few minutes where the only sound to break the silence was the irate rustling of his parchment and the scratching of quills, Draco spoke. "We had an argument."
"Oh." Hermione paused. Well that explains a few things. "I gather it was left unresolved."
Draco sighed, and restrained a humourless bark of laughter. "That's one way of putting it."
"It wasn't about the case, was it."
He shook his head, too preoccupied to be surprised by how well she could read him. "It had been coming for a long time," he affirmed tiredly. "I said…" he sighed. "I said a lot." What I'd never dared to say before.
"I can try to help…if you want?"
Draco stared at her at that, and Hermione blushed, but forced herself not to look away. "Why?" His tone was guarded. Not exactly distrustful, but certainly wary.
Hermione shrugged, trying to think of a way that wouldn't insult or offend him. "Everyone needs someone to fight in their corner sometimes."
Draco continued to stare at her, nonplussed, and Hermione felt her cheeks grow hotter. He turned back to his work. "This is something I have to resolve myself."
Hermione felt a little as though something had been pulled out from under her, and nodded silently to herself, following suit.
"But thank you." The words were a mutter, but offered freely.
Hermione glanced over, watching the studiously bent head, confusion and interest swirling in her. This side of Draco intrigued her. He was still wary, but he was less clam-like. She settled back to her own work. The matter of her speaking to his parents could wait. She could bide her time – there were still plenty of opportunities left to convince Malfoy. But the fact that he at last seemed to be easing the rigid grasp with which he held all his troubles was strangely comforting.
Harry eventually returned to the office, loosening his tie forcefully and raking his hands through his hair, looking as though he would like nothing better than to jinx every reporter between London and Calcutta.
Hermione watched him astutely, and conjured a curtain rail with heavy velvet drapes over the door. Harry shot her a querying glance, and when Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, flew at them, tearing the curtains down with a viciousness that produced a deeply satisfactory shredding sound.
Draco watched the spectacle with astonishment.
"I understand why you don't have any windows in your office, Harry," Hermione said composedly after the Auror had finished kicking the curtains splayed across the floor, vanishing them as he stumbled over to his seat, breathing hard but with a much lighter expression, "but I thoroughly recommend having some installed, even if it's only temporarily during stressful cases. Curtains are wonderfully therapeutic." She turned to the still wide-eyed Draco. "I had to deal with a lot of petty bureaucracy in my previous department. Tearing the curtains down several times a day was the best form of stress relief I could think of, short of cursing my colleagues into kumquats."
"Don't tempt me," Harry muttered. "There is a spell for that."
Hermione restrained a grin.
"I take it the press meeting didn't go very well," Draco commented.
Harry sighed, straightening slightly in his chair. "It was damage control. Damage control never goes well, especially not when Rita Skeeter is sniffing around. They don't want things calm, they want chaos. They haven't turned on us yet, but it's getting close… No one wants to buy a story about how everything is just peachy. And they always seem to know when we're hiding something."
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Do I need to have a meeting with Rita?" she asked, her tone hard, and the words drawing a bemused expression from Draco.
Harry shook his head. "She behaved, as well as she's able."
Hermione raised her brows as though she found that very hard to believe, lips pursed.
"Am I to be let in on what's not being said here?" Draco enquired, itching to discover the subtext travelling between Potter and Granger.
Harry glanced at Hermione, who smirked in a self-satisfied manner that would have put one of Draco's own grins to shame.
"Rita and I have a history," Hermione said tantalisingly.
Draco raised an eyebrow. "I'm well aware, Granger. I was the one who dished the dirt on you to her in fourth year, don't you remember? Oh…" Draco's expression cleared, and then he grinned. "Beetle, right?"
Hermione nodded, grinning wolfishly. "Exactly."
"Blackmail and extortion," Draco clucked his teeth, impressed. "I'd never have guessed it of you."
Harry laughed as Hermione's smug grin widened, her eyes twinkling a little. "There's a lot you wouldn't guess of me given that I am a so-called bookworm, Malfoy."
Draco chuckled. "I've since revised that to book wyrm. A dragon suits you much better."
Hermione coloured a little at that, and busied herself with her inkwell, suddenly fascinated by the stopper.
Harry, having recuperated, dragged himself upright. "All right, Malfoy. We're going out today – we need to get warnings out to anyone we think is at a high risk of being targeted next. You had a list didn't you?"
Draco nodded, producing the scroll.
"Good. Hermione?"
"I'm just trying to see if I can find any other patterns or links between the murders. It might help with this plan to bait them."
Harry nodded, standing with a great effort, and blowing out a breath of air. "Right. Ready, Malfoy?"
Draco stood, nodding.
"See you later, Hermione."
Hermione smiled.
"Granger."
Hermione blinked, hoping wildly that her cheeks weren't as pink as they felt. "Malfoy."
The list of potential targets was not particularly long. Of the Death Eaters that had survived the Battle of Hogwarts, most were either imprisoned or on the run; few had decided to defect, and most of those that had had been of little importance to Voldemort. Longer was their list of reformed blood purists.
The meetings varied between distrustful and wary concern, and most already had fairly rigorous protection set up on their homes, but welcomed the warning all the same. Harry found Draco exceedingly useful, as he knew most of them better than he did; despite the fact that many of them had gone to school together, and his presence behind Harry's when they opened their doors seemed to allay any misgivings about the appearance of the Head of the Auror Office on their doorstep.
By noon they were finished and back in the office again, Draco returning to curse and potion work, while Harry went through the list of walnut and dragon heartstring wand-owners Ollivander had provided, crosschecking them with the Ministry files. Hermione had swapped to checking through Arithmancy and Ancient Rune texts in the vain hope of finding something that might point to the significance of the letters carved on the bodies. She was sure that writing 'we' or 'ew' couldn't have been on the murderer's mind, and had appropriated the work Draco had done on it from his desk while he and Harry were out, after she had strained herself to the utmost searching for links between the seven and the groups to no avail.
"Feel like training, Malfoy?" she asked, rubbing her eyes as she leant back from yet another unhelpful book of runes.
Draco regarded the mass of papers covering his desk, and nodded, pushing himself up. "Anything to get away from this," he muttered.
"I don't think this is a good idea, Granger." Draco stared at the vials of poisons and antidotes lined up on a table the S.T.E. had provided. They were standing at the beginning of a kind of poison-based assault course, and despite the fact that the poisons had been generated by the simulation spell, their effects would be entirely real.
Hermione frowned. "Why not? I thought you specialised in these things? It should be a doddle."
Draco nodded wearily. "If I wasn't so tired, I'd agree with you."
Hermione gave him a sympathetic look. "Bad night?"
Draco glanced at her guardedly, then shrugged with what might have been considered indifference. "When all your nights are bad nights, it makes little difference."
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but shut it again. His tone invited no further discussion. She turned back to the room, thinking. "OK…how about…" she swished her wand, and their surroundings changed with a crackle to that of a dark forest.
Draco glanced about curiously, and raised a quizzical brow. "I don't quite understand what we're meant to do here. Duel? Prune?"
"In a manner of speaking." Hermione was about to elaborate when a thorny vine shot out from the undergrowth, whipping around Draco's ankle and pulling him to the ground with a thud. "Diffindo!"
The severing charm slashed through the vine, which recoiled with an angry screech from the undergrowth allowing Draco to struggle back to his feet, rubbing the back of his head.
"A Venomous Tentacula nest?" he asked incredulously, flipping his hair out of his eyes. "Really, Granger?"
Through the incredulity she could hear the faint undercurrent of his impressed amusement. Hermione shrugged with a slight grin. "I wanted to keep up with the theme of poisons."
Draco rolled his eyes. "I gather we're not supposed to simply blast them with light then?"
"You gather correctly," Hermione affirmed, her grin widening.
Draco shook his head slightly, but there was an amused curl to his mouth as he turned so they stood back to back, wands raised and at the ready as their surroundings filled with the sound of slithering vines.
They returned to Harry's office buoyed up rather than tired, adrenaline and endorphins flooding their veins, both sporting a few cuts and scratches, and covered in the sap from the vines. It had made a nice change to work as a team rather than as opponents. Draco had been surprised that he had actually enjoyed having Granger at his back, protecting him from the rear, despite the fact that her shoulder blades were only two-thirds the way up his spine. He had been even more surprised to discover that he actually trusted her to keep him safe.
For her part, Hermione had been pleasantly surprised to discover that she and Draco actually made a rather good team. There had been one or two awkward moments to begin with when they'd crashed into each other, or else narrowly missed one another with their spells, but the longer they had been at it, the plants becoming steadily more ferocious the longer they fought, the more they eased into an awareness of where the other was, and how to move in and about one another, Draco even managing to catch her as she tripped at one point while she continued to fire off spells beneath the arm supporting her.
Draco found the camaraderie odd. He was used to being the leader – the one telling others what to do and expecting them to follow through without argument. The Death Eaters weren't exactly known for their friendly manner, or for sitting down to share a few Butterbeers after a killing spree and reminisce over a fire, and they had been banded together with mutual fear and respect for the Dark Lord. Fighting as one of them didn't feel safe; it was every man for himself. Even being in Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad hadn't made him feel part of a group. They had been disparate individuals, answering to her and their own vindictive personal codes. Fighting together, side by side, and knowing that your partner was as aware of your safety as they were of their own – that was something he had never dreamed of being a part of. And, contrary to all he had been taught, Draco found he appreciated it. Friendship did not come easily to him, but he thought that this was something like that.
"Sooo," Hermione dragged out the word coyly, glancing through her lashes to gauge her colleague's reaction as they walked back to the Auror Office.
Draco raised a pale brow, bemused by her unintentional archness. "Granger?"
"About your parents…"
Draco sighed. "Not this again."
Hermione cut in front of him, stopping and forcing him to do the same. "Please – they might know something we've been missing, or mention something that might help me figure something out. I know things are probably awkward between you at the moment; but we are running out of time. I wouldn't force you like this if there was any other option."
Draco pursed his lips, deliberately avoiding eye contact with her. He accidentally fixed his gaze on the dip of her singlet, unaware of exactly where he was absentmindedly staring until she took in a deep breath, at which he quickly averted his eyes, trying not to feel the heat pinking his cheeks.
"I know I said yesterday that it could wait, but I'm really stumped with everything that I'm looking into, and if they did mention anything helpful, it could be useful for baiting our trap…when we figure one out."
"Granger…" he began warningly, not sure what he was going to say, but looking anywhere but her eyes.
"Dracooo," she wheedled, taking his arm just above the wrist.
What felt like a spark of static jumped between them as their skin met. His eyes shot to meet hers as though magnetised to them, dilated with surprise and something else quite different. The faint realisation that he rather liked the way she said his name, even when she was cajoling him with it, ran through the back of his mind. Hermione didn't seem aware of the charge, but Draco was all too sensible of the sensation of her hand around his wrist, sure she would be able to feel his pulse increasing in speed beneath her slender fingers. He had never realised before just how slim they were until they were there, her hand delicate and small, barely able to fully encircle his wrist.
Hermione frowned. Draco seemed worlds away, despite the fact that his eyes were gazing directly into hers, the silver clouded over with an expression of abstraction she couldn't figure out. "Draco?" she had dropped the coaxing tone from before.
Draco blinked, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth, and moistening his lips very slightly. He swallowed. "OK."
Hermione brightened. "OK? I can talk to them?"
He nodded, then blinked, quickly surfacing from his daze. "After they come back from their lessons," he added quickly, the realisation of what he had just agreed to beginning to strike home.
Hermione nodded, releasing her hold on him and restraining herself from hugging the ruffled man, sure he wouldn't appreciate such a gesture. She constantly had to remind herself that with him there were limits. "Thank you, Draco." She beamed at him.
Draco dropped his eyes and dipped his head in acknowledgement, marching on woodenly, the cool imprint of her hand still tingling around his arm.
Hermione hurried to catch up. "Shall I come with you when you pick them up?"
Draco blanched. "No!" he cleared his throat, casting about for an excuse. "They'll, er, make a scene. I'll…take them home, then come back to bring you over." He paused, the image of her lying, broken on the floor of the drawing room returning to him, "If you don't mind coming to the Manor that is."
Hermione followed his train of thought and sucked in a steadying breath before she nodded agreeably. "It's fine," she said with forced lightness. Her arm was burning slightly, and she had to forced herself not to reflexively rub at the scars.
Draco glanced sideways at her, half hoping she would protest and maybe say she didn't want to speak to his parents after all, but her expression was set with a determination that he knew nothing would budge. At the very least, he had to admire her fortitude, even if it was causing complications for him.
Back in the office, Draco sat dazedly in his chair for a few minutes, not quite sure exactly what had happened. The fact that Lucius was still probably furious with him wasn't a wonderful beginning, and now he'd gone and invited Hermione Granger to the Manor to speak with his father about matters that he was already touchy about at the best of times. He had gone insane. It had started when he'd agreed to this whole business, but now he knew he really had lost his mind. An echo of the crackle that had traced through him when she touched him tingled his fingertips, and Draco sucked a breath. That was too much to think about right now.
He was roused from his torpor by the unwanted arrival of Krum to pick up Hermione for lunch. The familiar prickling burn returned to him with full force as he watched them together, anger and something else washing over him in hot waves, coveting the smiles she gave Krum, and seriously considering whether he actually cared about the ramifications of transfiguring the Bulgarian National Quidditch team's Seeker into a bubotuber in front of the Head of the Auror Office. Potter seemed to like the Bulgarian well enough, so he probably wouldn't be in favour of the transformation. It was a pity, he'd really progressed with his transfiguration skills after the coaching Granger had given him. Not that he'd ever admit that to her of course.
Krum and Hermione left before Draco could come to any serious decision however, and instead he stalked angrily about the hallways in an attempt to walk out the adrenaline before returning to eat his own lunch with vitriolic savagery. He was barely able to concentrate on his work, considering exactly how Krum would employ his final lunch date with Granger, each potential scenario that he imagined worse than the last. Potter made a vague enquiry after his behaviour, but was easily mollified with the explanation that he was stressing about bringing Granger to see his parents later, and returned peaceably to his own work. Draco didn't really mind Potter these days, in fact he could go so far as to say that he actually sort of liked the man, but how he managed to investigate cases properly with that level of interrogation was beyond comprehension. Not that he was complaining.
Draco spent the rest of the time imagining creative ways to engineer satisfying accidents for the blissfully unaware Bulgarian. Of course, putting such schemes into action would undoubtedly annoy Granger in the extreme, but not being caught was the only thing that really mattered.
When Granger returned all smiles, it sickened him. Draco barely had time to feel the now all too familiar burn in his belly again before Krum slouched in behind her, nodding brusquely to Potter and giving him a look that verged on a glare, which Draco more than gladly returned.
"I haff something for you, Herm-own-ninny," Krum said gruffly.
Hermione turned, her expression surprised before her eyes settled on the rectangular package Krum was holding out.
Harry glanced up from his papers to watch the exchange with detached curiosity while Draco forced his eyes back down to his desk, glaring at a spot in the varnish with enough force that it ought to have burned through.
Krum shot Draco a pointed look as he glanced up, and the animosity between the two rose a little higher.
Hermione was completely oblivious to the pitched battle occurring around her. "Oh, Viktor! You really didn't need to get me anything."
"I vouldn't be a good house guest if I did not." He smiled very slightly, warmth returning to his tone and eyes as he gave his attention back to her.
Hermione smiled widely.
"Open it. Please."
Krum placed the item in her hands. It was obvious from the shape and size what it was.
Hermione pulled the brown paper wrapping off the book, her eyes lighting up as she read the gleaming gold lettering of Know Your Friends from Your Enemies – a Complete Guide to Personal Protection by Prudence Targe.
"I thought it vould be good, because of vot is happening."
Hermione responded by flinging her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. "Thank you, Viktor; it's wonderful!"
Draco watched the scene with murder in his heart. Blasted Bulgarians…
"I haff something else also."
Hermione frowned in genuine confusion, having released the Seeker, her eyes widening as he pulled something small from his pocket, unwrapping the brown paper tied around it.
It was a small silver mirror, exquisitely crafted, the glass only a little speckled.
"It is a scrying mirror – so you can talk to me if you need my help." Krum didn't look at Draco again, but it was clear what he was saying. I don't trust him. "I haff the other vun. They come in pairs."
Hermione's cheeks were a little pink. "I…well, thank you, Viktor." She smiled at him as she took it.
He nodded curtly, although his eyes remained fixed on her. "Vell. I should go now. I haff a meeting soon."
Draco had to restrain himself from voicing one of the dozen curses and jinxes that rose to his mind which might hurry the Bulgarian on his way.
"OK."
"May I?" Krum glanced at Harry, gesturing to his fireplace.
Harry had to tear his eyes off the mirror in Hermione's hands, his thoughts dwelling on Sirius, and blinked rapidly, nodding. "Sure."
Krum nodded. "Potter." He glanced at Draco, but said nothing, turning back to Hermione, who had drifted over to the lintel with him. He took her by the arms, leaning in to kiss her on both cheeks. "Goodbye, Herm-own-ninny. Stay safe."
Hermione turned red. "Goodbye, Viktor."
He turned to the fireplace, there was an explosion of green flames, a shout of Bulgarian, and then he was gone.
Hermione returned to her desk, pointedly avoiding the gaze of Harry and Draco, her cheeks still hot. She regarded the mirror in her hand, and then gave Harry a sad little smile that he understood, and they all returned to their work.
Hermione's nerves mounted as the day drew to a close, her eyes wandering more and more frequently to Draco. She hadn't honestly given much consideration to the fact that speaking to Mr and Mrs Malfoy might mean she would have to return to Malfoy Manor; she'd been too busy trying to convince Draco. She had returned to that night often enough in her nightmares, but never in the flesh. It had never been likely, so she had never considered what the ramifications of doing so might be. Now she was doing all too much considering. Rationally, she very much doubted that they would meet in the same room – Draco, surprisingly, was far too tactful to allow that to happen – and as that was the seat of her fears, she did not think it likely that her memories would return in a deluge simply by visiting the house. She found herself tapping out a rapid beat with her fingers all the same, however.
Draco seemed more concerned about how his parents would react. She didn't doubt that there would be a degree of unpleasantness with Mr and Mrs Malfoy, but Draco seemed to be steeling himself for something far worse than she expected. She was fairly confident that things wouldn't become unmanageable, well aware of Narcissa's good progress in the classes, and that Lucius would at the very least have to be somewhat amenable now that they knew her position in the program. Even so, she twitched every time Draco stood to do anything or made a sudden movement until finally he sighed, running his hands through his fair hair and giving her a mildly exasperated look.
"Granger, you're not going to make time pass faster by doing that, you know. You're beginning to make even me jumpy."
Hermione coloured slightly. "Sorry," she bent her head back to her notes. She'd been re-reading their research so far to ensure she could ask the best questions possible.
Harry leant back from his desk. "Before you two go, I do want to talk about this trap we're planning."
Hermione and Draco's attention sharpened instantly, their demeanours becoming serious once more.
"This case has already been in the papers more than anything else the past few weeks. I think we should capitalise on that. The murderer clearly wants to make an impression, and the fact that people aren't panicking yet is probably irritating them. These attacks are meant to draw attention. If we can somehow use the press coverage to our advantage, we'll be able to make a big statement, and be almost certain of their seeing it."
The other two nodded. The reasoning was sound.
"I can tip Rita off about it too, when we've got a plan of what to do. She never can resist an inflammatory story," Hermione added, "so as long as what we do is reasonably controversial or gossip-worthy, she'll be on it like a vulture. Especially if I make it seem like it's not from us, but rather someone trying to cash in on something juicy."
Harry nodded, scribbling down the note as a reminder.
"But what about the bait?" Draco asked thoughtfully. "You need honey for a honey trap."
Harry nodded. "That's what I want us all to think about tonight. Who do we think is suitable for the task? A person seems to be our only option given that we don't know what they actually want, and we at least know who they're targeting. It will be dangerous, so they'll need to be confident with working in the field and handling the difficulties that might arise, but they also need to have traction with the papers. I want to have this plan on its feet by tomorrow, if possible. From then we've only got three days until the next scheduled murder – two if they go a day early again. I don't want any more unnecessary deaths."
Hermione and Draco nodded sombrely.
Harry glanced at the clock. "You'd better get going, Malfoy – your parents will be finishing soon."
Draco checked the time, swore, and leapt to his feet, summoning his robes from the hat stand, swirling them around his shoulders as he ran for the door. "I'll be back!" he called over his shoulder, glancing at Hermione as he disappeared around the frame.
Hermione sucked in a deep breath, calming herself.
Harry grinned. "Everything's going to be fine. You've done stuff like this heaps of times – you had to face down all the older pure-blood families to scrap the legislation favouring them; this is a piece of cake in comparison."
Hermione beamed at Harry in thanks, straightening her papers and forcing herself not to count the ticks of the second hand on the clock.
Eventually, Draco appeared in the fireplace, only half stepping out from the grate, green flames still licking his legs as he reached out a hand to Hermione.
"Ready, Granger?" he asked, the faintest hint of anxiety bleeding into his expression.
Hermione nodded firmly, reaching out to take his hand, the pair of them whipping away into the floo network.
Happy New Year! And look, two months of updating! :D Talk about miracles haha.
Admittedly, this will probably be my last updated for a while (I've really been pretty slack with my dissertation work, so I need to focus on that), but I really wanted to give you wonderful people another chapter before I go radio silent for a while again. That said, the next chapter is one of my absolute favourites, so if I have time and remember, I will try really hard to post it in February!
But what do we all think of this one?! Draco has ~feelings~ and a ~connection~ ooooh. I'm willing to bet no Malfoy EVER has been comfortable being more invested in a relationship than the other party haha. He is sooo unprepared for this.
Also THEY HAVE A PLAN OMG. How will that go..?
I hope you all have a WONDERFUL 2019! Thanks for reading my stuff! 3
Please do review and/or favourite :) Tell me what you like or don't like :) Questions and speculations are always welcome :D As is incomprehensible flailing if that's what you go in for :)
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