Since before Draco could remember, he'd loved apples. The granny smith had been his favourite. At home, or at Hogwarts, the boy would eat at least one apple per day and never tire of its taste. His mother, Narcissa, would plead with him to eat other fruit, like peaches or strawberries, but he would always refuse. "They're not crunchy enough," or "I don't like the flavour", he would tell her… even if he did. There was just something about apples that felt right to him. Just a plain apple, and nothing else.
One day, he'd come from Hogwarts for the summer and asked for an apple pie with cinnamon. Draco's mother had looked at him like he was an alien. "Cinnamon?" she'd asked, "but you don't like—" she'd tried to argue, but he wasn't having it. He wanted an apple pie with cinnamon. Their house elves had baked the treat for him, and upon tasting it, he couldn't stop. He'd never dared to tarnish the simple, yet comforting taste of apples—but he was happy for it now.
As the boy sat in the dining room of Malfoy Manor, enjoying his new favourite dessert, his mother sat by his side and observed him. He supposed she had a right, considering the odd request. He'd spent his entire life eating apples and had refused any deviation from the simplistic fruit. "What is this Draco?" she'd finally asked him. He continued eating. Truth be told, as much as Draco knew why he'd wanted to try the dessert, the thought of admitting it to his mother made him feel…embarrassed? She would understand of course, or at least try to, but he still didn't want her knowing. It was stupid anyway.
"I wanted to try something new," he offered unconvincingly.
"Something new?" Narcissa retorted, "you haven't tried anything new in 16 years."
He refrained from rolling his eyes. Draco loved his mother, but sometimes she could infuriate him like no other. Why did she care so much?
He did not answer her, as she sat next to him. He did not answer her again the next time he asked for the dessert, and he did not answer her when almost all his future dessert requests featured apples and cinnamon.
Present Day
"I'm nervous," Theo admitted as they stood in line at a muggle coffee shop in Sydney, Australia.
Draco clenched his jaw. He was nervous too, but he wouldn't discuss his feelings with Theo in public. His friend knew how he felt, they'd known each other their entire lives and he'd been Draco's only confidante after losing Hermione.
"It's your turn to order," the blond motioned to his friend.
"Oops," Theo shrugged and walked up to the counter, "could I please have a large coffee—black, with one sugar."
The barista nodded and asked for his name. "Teddy," he offered, and Draco smirked. His friend only gave women that nickname when he thought they were cute, and when he wanted them to think the same. Wanker. She did seem to think he was cute though, as Draco could have sworn that she wrote her number down on his coffee cup.
"Next," she announced, with a pink twinge to her cheeks. Draco tried to hide his smirk, but he probably just looked weird.
"Good morning," he offered politely, "could I please have a large chai latte with a dash of cinnamon, and a large cappuccino with 2 sugars and extra foam?"
"Yes, what is your name?" she smiled.
"Draco," he offered a small smile in return, and paid.
Upon receiving their orders, he found that he'd been right about Theo's cup. Her number was inscribed at the bottom of his cup, with the name Lisa and a little heart next to it. Charming.
"Are you going to call her?" Draco mused, knowing damn well Theo didn't have a phone. Neither of them did. Once upon a time, Hermione had purchased one for him so that they could communicate secretly or when they were far from one another, and owling seemed impractical. He'd kept his in the chest he'd dedicated to things that reminded him of her.
"Nah," he'd grinned mischievously, "I'll probably just go back and find out when she's free."
"Right," Draco grinned back, "the ministry is 5 minutes from here by the way."
"Can we apparate inside?" he asked, clearly not wanting to walk in the Mid-spring Australian sun.
"No, unfortunately."
So, they walked. It had taken them 4 minutes, instead of 5. They were on a mission and would not be deterred. Along the way, Draco felt himself becoming increasingly nervous and doubtful of this plan. What if it wasn't her? What if it was her? She'd spent years in hiding from everyone, there must have been a reason for it. Maybe she would not come home, or worse, pretend she didn't know them. Then again, she'd never been the best liar.
When they arrived at the ministry, Draco remarked how mundane the place appeared from the outside. It looked like a New York city skyscraper. Very… modern. He supposed it made sense though, as it was located in an area surrounded by muggles. They were hiding in plain sight.
"Ahhhh, Mr. Malfoy," Oliver Turner greeted him as soon as he walked in, "looks like I've caught you before you could get lost!"
Draco looked around him, noticing the stark contrast between the Australian ministry and the British one. Where theirs was dark, with no windows and black tiles everywhere, this one was all light, made up entirely of windows and white marble floors. It was beautiful—and immense. He definitely would have gotten lost.
"Hello Sir," Draco stretched out his hand, and the man shook it immediately, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."
"The pleasure is all mine," the man smiled, and Draco knew it was genuine. "And who might you be?" he looked at Theo, who was snapped out of looking at their surroundings.
"Theodore Nott," he said, shaking Oliver Turner's outstretched hand, "I'm just on unofficial business here, I work in the Department of Mysteries at my ministry."
"Department of Mysteries, you say?" Turner motioned for them to follow him, "growing up, that was my dream job."
"Really? How did you end up in international magical cooperation then?" Draco asked, as he had switched from the DOM not too long ago.
Turner answered him then, or Draco thought he did at least—but he wasn't listening anymore. Or maybe he couldn't hear him through the sounds of his heartbeat booming in his ears. He'd been so focused on the man that one look in front of him had nearly stopped him dead in his tracks. She hadn't been facing him, but he would know her in a room even if he was blind. She was talking to someone; her arms were moving along with whatever she was saying, and she was enraptured in the discussion. Typical. He thought he might die if he couldn't get a closer look.
"Who's that?" he nearly croaked.
"That's Beatrice Wilkins," he said proudly, "she's probably the most intelligent witch I've ever met. Go and introduce yourselves, I'll join you shortly, just got to speak with someone!"
Draco looked at Theo then, who had gone deathly pale. The blond said nothing and continued walking towards her.
When they were finally within an arm's distance of each other, Draco cleared his throat.
She turned around then, her strange hair whipping around in the process. She was the same height though, same frame, and body type. She smelled the same… like cinnamon.
When her eyes met his; he knew. Without a doubt. Despite the green shade that now adorned her irises, there was no mistaking their expressiveness and depth. The sun was yellow, the sky was blue, water was wet, and this was Hermione Granger.
Hermione had gone almost as pale as Theo and were it not for her sun-kissed skin, she probably would have been paler. She sucked in a breath, as her eyes roamed over him and then onto Theo.
"H-hi," she let out in a small voice.
"Hi," Draco replied, handing over the coffee he'd gotten for her, "cappuccino, two sugars and extra foam."
She took it, "Thanks it's my fav—" she started, but realized her mistake.
"Come with me," Draco demanded, "now."
She looked devastated, and he didn't understand why.
He grabbed her arm then and led her somewhere more private.
Theo stayed behind, he knew this was a conversation Draco and Hermione needed to have alone.
Draco and her finally found a private enough room, and he cast a muffliato in case of anything.
The room was rather plain, compared to the rest of the ministry. It had white walls, hospital lighting due to the lack of windows, and a large table in the middle, clearly meant for meetings. Hermione stood at one end and Draco at the other. Both of them were too nervous to sit, so they simply stared at one another for what felt like hours.
Draco finally broke the silence, too desperate to know things.
"Granger?"
She looked down, clearly at odds with herself then. Hermione breathed in deeply, and exhaled even harder, before finally giving in.
"Yes," her voice cracked and tears began spilling, "yes it's me."
Please review! x
