A/N: Thanks again for everyone reading and commenting. A very special thank you to my alpha reader: LaDeeDaa and my beta reader: astrangefan
Cutting Carrots
"What?" It wasn't the first time Harry'd asked the question in the last five minutes as Hermione prepared him - as well as Ron - for what he would walk into at her parents' house.
The Head Auror had explained the breach in the Salem Prison, the connection to the Energy at Hogwarts, and the study of The Mark - but as Rilla never exactly relayed that Hermione was currently housing two Death Eaters, and personally seeing to their well-being that had been harder for her friends to swallow.
Hermione sighed. In the rush to get all the information to Rilla and get the British Ministry on alert for what she believed to be three very dangerous Death Eaters potentially attempting to raise Voldemort from the dead, she'd forgotten that bringing in Harry and Ron would mean that the comfortable bubble she'd created with Theo and Draco would burst all to hell.
"Draco Malfoy and Theo Nott were in the worst pain of all the Death Eaters at Azkaban. As I needed to have very regular access to them, they were brought to my parents' house - like a safe house - where I've been caring for them and researching ways to remove the Dark Magic from their Marks."
"This is mental," Ron said. "Malfoy. And Nott. Free as birds, living in your parents' old house with you?"
"Hardly 'free'," Hermione scoffed. "They have no wands, the house is warded so they cannot leave the property line. They are not a threat to me. Neither one of them has so much as lifted a finger out of line since they've been there - for nearly a week, I might add."
"But, Hermione, why wasn't the DMLE included on this?' Harry asked. 'They are Death Eaters. That has to fall under our jurisdiction. If I'd known I was warding your house for this…"
"What?" Hermione demanded. "You wouldn't have done it? You would have left it to me to figure out if you knew what my assignment was?"
Harry looked like he regretted his words after that. "No. Obviously, I would have helped you, but I would have talked you out of it. You could have seen them daily in Azkaban. This is so dangerous, Hermione. Most of the Death Eaters were trained in hand-to-hand combat!"
"I'm a capable witch, and I assure you that neither Theo nor Draco have any desire to harm me. Half the time they are as meek as kittens because their entire bleeding left arms are on fire.
"This isn't a minor thing, Harry. They could die. My being close by has saved their lives more than once," she pointed out.
"Okay," Ron said, attempting to calm both sides and play peacemaker. "We understand you couldn't tell us the details of your work. We understand this is your job. But we are here now, and I really don't see why they can't go back to Azkaban while we take shifts…"
Hermione's eyes blazed. "I will never agree to that," she said, her voice indicating not to cross her. She also knew it was too soon for her to reveal that she had no intention of either of them ever returning to Azkaban. If she opened that door, Harry and Ron would assume she'd gotten too emotional, and they would question her judgement. If they wanted to take it higher up, they might succeed. She absolutely couldn't allow that.
"This is my case. I know you are the Aurors, but this is still my case and my research. We do it my way. I'm telling you this because I don't want you to make trouble or needlessly worry about me. Malfoy, Theo, and I have formed a bit of a truce and it's working nicely. I don't want either of you to come in and destroy it with egos."
"Fine," Harry conceded. "But I'm redoubling the wards."
Hermione rolled her eyes but nodded. If it made him feel better, let him at it.
"Malfoy," Ron sighed. "Blimey. It would have to be Malfoy."
"He's a bit prickly, but he's not as bad as he was at school," Hermione assured them.
Hermione, Ron, and Harry were bent over different books at her parents' dining room table later that afternoon, and Hermione couldn't help the feeling of déjà vu that washed over her. It had been ages, but it felt like old times. As happy as she was to be working with her friends, she was not thrilled that it was yet another task trying to keep Voldemort's power at bay.
That guy is the fucking worst.
Harry was reading up on Dark Energy, how it functions, how it flows, and potential ways to combat it. Ron was looking into The Mark itself - or rather similar Marks like it in history. Hermione focused in on blood oaths, since she was pretty sure that had been what sealed The Mark ceremony.
Ron and Harry had gone up to see Malfoy and Nott when they arrived, saw them asleep, and made their way back downstairs. Hermione had insisted that she be the one to inform Draco and Theo that Harry and Ron would be part of the research. The last thing she wanted was for them to lose the trust that had built between them.
"You have a pensieve, right?" Ron asked.
"Yes," Hermione nodded. "I'll take Draco and Theo's memories tonight. I'm going to have to get a warrant for a few of the older Death Eaters. They won't speak to me or comply. I hate to have the Warden force it, but I don't see much other choice."
She could tell Ron was about to argue - essentially the same argument Draco had made a few nights ago - so she continued on before he could. "I think the ritual changed. And I think whatever Voldemort did to the younger Death Eaters was stronger, or more binding. I think that's why they are dealing with the most pain and the Dark Magic seems to have moved further into their bloodstream."
"Could it be something to do with willingness?" Harry asked, lifting his head from his book.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, incredibly interested in this new line of thought.
"Well, the older Death Eaters were 'True Believers', right? Maybe a few were imperius'd, but that was rare and most of those people are now dead. Rookwood, Malfoy Sr, Macnair, the Lestranges - they were solid supporters who believed in Voldemort's entire world view."
"Right," Hermione said, indicating for him to continue.
"Well, look. As much of an arse and a bigot as Malfoy was, he was not Macnair. I'm sure he'd happily have done what he had to do no matter who came down the victor, but he wasn't a 'True Believer'. If he had been, he would have killed us in the Room of Requirement. Hell, he'd have identified us at Malfoy Manor. And in the end, when he sided with his mother and father, it was hardly with conviction. Now, I don't know much at all about Nott, but I do know Malfoy."
It was true. She knew, personally, that neither of them were True Believers. But that said, the other young Death Eater - the one who died trying to remove his Mark - was he a 'True Believer'? She didn't know. She needed more data before she could accept that the pain might be linked to reticence to do the will of Voldemort.
"It's possible. At this point, I don't think we can know if that is it. There are so few of the new generation of Death Eaters even still alive - if any, beyond Malfoy and Nott."
Harry nodded and went back to his reading. Hermione felt she had an in to make the case at least for Theo now that she had an opening to talk about his level of involvement with the Death Eaters.
"For the record, Nott was not a 'True Believer' either." Harry looked back up at her, a questioning look in her eyes. "His mother died when he was born and his father was abusive. He tried to refuse The Mark, but his father beat him and hexed him until he was barely able to kneel before Voldemort and made him take The Mark.'
Ron swore under his breath. "Merlin, Hermione. If that's true, the Wizengamot wouldn't have put him in Azkaban."
"It is true, and they did. I read the file."
Ron and Harry looked at each other for a long moment before looking back at Hermione.
"You don't just want to free Narcissa, do you?" Harry finally said, his voice tired, but she knew he could tell she wasn't going to be dissuaded, and it seemed he wasn't going to try - which pleased her.
"I want all of the coerced, reformed Death Eaters released," she said, jutting her chin out stubbornly.
"And I assume Draco is on that list," Harry said, a bite in his voice when he used Malfoy's first name. It was clearly an indication that he'd already noticed how she'd slipped into calling him Draco instead of Malfoy - a thing she only just noticed that morning.
She hadn't wanted to get into this. They had too much to do, and the last thing she needed was to defend herself while they needed to work together. But she couldn't lie to Harry either. "Yes," she said. "Draco was coerced too. He took The Mark willingly, but they were threatening his mother. He didn't think he had a choice."
"We all have choices, Hermione," Harry pointed out.
"I know that. You know that. But he didn't think he had a choice."
"I don't like this," Ron said. "It feels like everything has changed too quickly. You never worried about Malfoy before, and now you want to risk your career to, what, retry him?"
"I don't have time to think about that, yet. I have to focus on the case. But I'm asking the two of you to trust me. Trust me because you know that I'm not stupid and I'm not naïve. Draco is still a jerk about eighty percent of the time. You are never going to play pick up quidditch with him. You are never going to be friends. But if you trust me at all, please trust me when I tell you that he doesn't deserve Azkaban – whether it is reformed or not."
"I trust you," Ron said. "I do. But it's so hard to trust him."
"That's fair," Hermione admitted. "He's never done anything to earn your trust, and I don't blame you. I'm not asking you to trust him, at least not yet."
"I trust you too, Hermione. And I know he's not a true Death Eater. But I'm not convinced he's not dangerous. He will do what it takes to survive," Harry concluded.
It was the best Hermione could hope for and she accepted it.
It was another thirty minutes of reading, note scribbling, and frustrated sighing before Hermione heard someone stir upstairs.
Three sets of eyes darted skyward. "I'll go up and check," Hermione said, shoving her notes inside her book and closing it. Ron and Harry exchanged a look but said nothing.
Hermione skipped up the stairs, her heart hammering in her chest. She had been a little nervous talking to Harry and Ron, but she'd known them more than half her life. She knew, at the end of the day, they'd back her. But everything with Malfoy was always so volatile, and the last thing she wanted was for Theo to not trust her when she told them that Harry and Ron had been brought in.
It was Draco who had awoken. Nott was still passed out on the bed. She checked him over just to make sure it was sleep and not something worse.
"Pain?" she asked Draco, immediately.
"Slight," he said. "Just a five. I'll be fine."
Hermione nodded. "You slept about five hours," she noted. "That's the longest you've slept without the potion."
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" Hermione replied, evasive.
"You are fidgeting," Draco said. "And your voice is different, like you are nervous. What's happened?" He started to get out of the bed, but she waved him off.
She couldn't believe he could read her that quickly - that thoroughly. "Okay, something has happened, but nothing here has changed," she said, placing her hands up in a passive manner. Dealing with Malfoy could be a bit like defusing a bomb. She didn't want him to panic or feel threatened.
She mentioned how she'd inquired about Marked Death Eaters elsewhere and how she'd been waiting to hear back. "Right, that's how you found out about Andenov."
"Yes," she said. "Well, the MACUSA got back to me not long after you fell asleep. They'd had five Death Eaters in their custody, but all three Rakov brothers have escaped."
Draco's hands gripped the blanket until his knuckles turned white. "They are going to come back here," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Hermione nodded again. "That's our assumption, yes. I've had to include the DMLE in this case now."
"What does that mean?" Malfoy asked.
"It means that Harry and Ron are here, and they are going to help me establish what is causing the link between you and the Dark Energy at Hogwarts."
"Perfect," Malfoy spat. "I knew my life was going just well enough. Of course, I'd have to be subjected to the Wonder Twins again."
Hermione pursed her lips. "Neither of them are planning to bother you. In fact, you might rarely see them. They aren't focused so much on The Mark but on the Energy at Hogwarts. But as the cat's out of the bag, they wanted to…"
"Come check I haven't harmed you, I'm sure," Malfoy snapped, throwing the blanket off his legs and getting up. He began to pace, and Hermione stepped back to give him space.
"It's nothing like that, Draco," she said, hoping her use of his first name might ease his anxiety. She had noticed, just as she noticed she'd started calling him Draco, that when she did, the tension he carried in his shoulders seemed to lessen.
"Obviously, they are not your biggest fans, but they are not here to do anything to you. Just relax," she said, her tone soothing as she placed a hand on his right arm, stopping him mid stride.
When he finally looked at her, she gave him a weak smile. "It couldn't have been avoided, and trust me when I tell you that you'd rather deal with Harry and Ron than some of the older Aurors."
"You chose them, didn't you?" Nott said from behind her, and she jumped in surprise. He always had a way of waking up in the middle of a conversation and waiting to speak until he had something profound to say or ask.
"Yes," Hermione admitted. "If I have to work with the DMLE, I was going to ensure it was with Aurors I trusted."
"Fair enough," Theo said, groggily. "I'm sure they are worried for you."
'They know I can handle myself," Hermione said with a small smile.
"Might as well bring them up here," Draco groaned. "If I'm to be lectured by Potter, at least it will be after a good sleep."
The meeting between the four men was as awkward as one might have guessed. Harry and Ron matched Malfoy grunt for grunt, but Theo did express his thanks for their help, and an unsolicited promise not to hurt Hermione. Hermione could tell by the time the Ron and Harry left that they didn't mind Nott so much, but they still could not stand Malfoy. She marked it as progress.
After they left, Hermione gave Nott a pain potion as he complained of an increase in pain - it had begun to move up his arm to his shoulder. Then, they all went downstairs where Draco promised to make dinner.
As he usually did, Theo made his way outside after Hermione hit him with a warming charm. He seemed to want to be out there whenever he could be, and even though it was mid-February and cold, Hermione didn't have the heart to lecture him about catching his 'death of cold'.
"Make yourself useful, Granger, and chop this," Malfoy directed as she sat at the island.
"Uh," she looked down at the carrot she'd been handed.
He placed a cutting board in front of her and handed her the knife he'd been holding.
It just occurred to her that he'd had access to large, sharp knives in her house since the moment he arrived. She'd been remiss in not ridding the house of any weapons. It hadn't even occurred to her. She bet it would have occurred to Harry if he'd known what she was using the house for.
"How do you want it cut?" she asked. "What are you making?"
"Shepherd's pie, but with the beef mince since you don't have lamb."
"So, small?"
He smiled back at her. Another actual, non-sarcastic smile. "Small," he repeated.
She'd seen her mum make the dish before and had a pretty good idea what the task required. Pulling her hair back into the elastic she always kept at her wrist, she rose to wash her hands, bumping into Malfoy as he rummaged around in the fridge.
She blushed and returned to her seat, taking the knife in hand to chop his precious carrots. As she chopped, she looked up every so often to watch him work. His long, lithe fingers worked quickly and effortlessly as he chopped an onion and some celery. He gripped his knife expertly, confidently, and she wanted to drag her eyes away from his beautiful hands, but she felt drawn into, mesmerised as a wave of butterflies colonised in the pit of her stomach.
So distracted by watching his hands she didn't notice her own knife missing the carrot completely and coming down on the tip of her pinky finger. "Shit!" she exclaimed, the blood immediately dripping onto the white cutting board and over the edge of the island.
Draco's expert hands immediately dropped his own knife and reached out to grab her injured one. "What did you do?" he accused harshly.
"Cut myself. It's fine," she said, trying to pull her hand back. She was bleeding all over him. She was sure it was just a knick, but it was bleeding like she chopped her whole finger off.
He inspected her hand for a moment before pulling her around the island to the sink, flipping the water on, and holding her wounded finger under the running water to get a better look at the cut. He was so close, his body against hers as he urgently inspected her hand. Her stomach tightened as she saw the panicked look in his focused grey eyes.
He's terrified. Why?
"I'm fine," she said again, pulling her hand out from under the water to show him. "It's just a small cut. Here," she reached for her wand with her free hand. "Sana cutem," she whispered as she traced the small cut with the tip of her wand. The skin of her pinky finger knitted back together without so much as a scar.
She looked up at him to give him a reassuring smile but when she made eye contact with him, the smile slipped from her lips as she was overwhelmed by his penetrating stare. His eyes were dark again, intense. He was trembling as he held her hand almost to his chest, protectively.
"You could have cut your finger off," he said, his tone was chastising.
"Now you know why I don't cook," she said, hoping to make light of the situation, but Draco looked intent on treating her injury like a national tragedy. The intensity of both his expression and the tension in his body made her shiver.
He stared down at her as she looked up at him, their bodies still pressed together. Her stomach did another somersault as she swallowed, trying to will herself to pull her hand out of his and move her body back to the safety of the other side of the island. It felt like the air was crackling with tension and part of her wanted to pull him in closer while the other, more sane part, wanted to run outside to see what Theo had gotten up to in the last twenty minutes.
Finally, mercifully, he let her hand go and took a small step back. She was able to see, now, that she'd bled all over his shirt and down his right arm. 'Sorry,' she said, indicating with her finger where she saw the bright red drips of her blood.
Draco looked down and noted her blood curiously. He took several more steps back until he bumped into the counter, a horrified expression on his face. Hermione pursed her lips.
"Yes, it's the same colour as yours," she quipped. His angry eyes darted up to hers.
"I'm not an idiot," he snapped. "I know your blood is the same as mine."
There was a beat. That hadn't been what she'd expected him to say.
"It doesn't mean that I want to ever be covered in it." It was a pained sort of confession that Hermione wondered if there wasn't more behind what he'd said. She wanted to ask a follow up, but her lips stayed pressed together.
She shook it off. The proximity - her insane attraction to him - was making her imagine things. Of course, the idea of having someone's blood on you was distasteful. He didn't mean more than that. He wasn't concerned about her in particular.
But then why did he panic over a small cut?
She jumped when he slammed his knife down on the table after having only just picked it back up. He was hunched over the counter, his breath coming out in pants again.
Oh no.
"Draco," she said, coming back around the island, placing a soothing hand on his back.
"Don't," he gritted out. "I'm fine."
"Breathe," she said, ignoring him.
"Do you know how hard it is?" he asked, his head swinging sideways to look at her, his hair falling into his eyes. When she didn't answer he continued, "I feel the magic. I feel it inside me. I see you use it, and I can't…
"I know that's my penance. I know I've done enough to merit losing my wand. But…"
His breath calmed slightly, and he let out a long sigh, his head moving back to hang down as his grip on the counter weakened slightly. Hermione rubbed soothing circles on his back as she waited for him to finish.
"I can't do anything," he said. "I'm useless. If anything happened to you - I can't heal you. I can't do anything. It kills me."
His voice sounded broken and hollow. It gave her a pang in her chest to see him this way. It was so much easier to deal with the confident, sarcastic Malfoy. Vulnerable, repentant Draco ignited something inside her that scared her to dwell upon.
"I'm fine, Draco. And I don't need you to heal me. I'm a very capable witch," she said, a levity to her tone as she tried to pull him out of the mood her sliced finger had put him in.
"Capable if you have your wand. Capable if you are conscious. I think about you going to Hogwarts, of being near that Energy - near him - and I can't breathe." He turned around to face her, bringing both hands up and placing them on her shoulders where he let them slide down to her upper arms.
"I know you are capable. But I also know that if something happened to you, the fact that I have no control…"
He didn't finish his thought but as Hermione looked up at him, she could see so much pain and uncertainty in his eyes. "Draco…" she began, closing her eyes as she felt his fingers against the thin material of her shirt.
But she had no idea what to say. She felt the weight of his almost confession hang over her and she wanted to run, but she also wanted to stay. She wanted to stand there and look up at him - vulnerable as he'd ever been - and demand he open up to her. Instead, she did something that surprised both of them.
She held out her wand. Her heart hammered in her chest as she did it. It was not customary to share wands, and as much as she trusted him, it was a leap of faith to offer it. But she wanted him to know she trusted him. She wanted him to know that he wasn't just some guy she was helping for a case, or Theo's friend who she was begrudgingly going to add to her list of people to save.
"Here," she said, taking his hand in hers. "Do one spell. Any spell. Remember that you are a Wizard."
At first, it looked like he would outright refuse, but either the draw to magic was too strong or he thought better of it because after a moment he wrapped his fingers around the base of her wand and held it in his hand independently.
Hermione's anxiety ticked up at the loss of her wand - which was like another appendage to her - but the look on Draco's face made it all worth it. Much like Theo had looked the moment his face hit fresh air a few days prior, Draco looked as if he felt alive for the first time in a very long time. He sucked in a gulp of air, closed his eyes and savoured the feeling of having his magic channeled into a wand - as nature intended.
When his eyes finally opened, he pointed the wand just past her left shoulder and spoke a quiet spell. She wasn't sure she'd ever heard it before. Curious, she turned to see what he'd done. A smile spread across her face when she saw that he'd conjured a pot of dead weeds on the kitchen nook behind her.
"I suppose that makes sense," he said with a low chuckle.
"What spell is that?" Hermione asked. "Do you need dead plants often?"
"It was a spell my mother invented. She was quite good at charms. I think it was something similar to the spell you did on the journals. It would allow me to conjure roses from her beloved garden while I was at Hogwarts," Draco explained.
"Oh, that's lovely!" Hermione gushed. She only wished she'd thought of something like that to cure her homesickness at school.
"Well, given that the Manor is probably abandoned, I'm not surprised that there were no roses to conjure," he said with a shrug.
He looked at the wand for a long moment before handing it back over to her. "Thank you, Hermione," he said quietly. "Add this to the list of things I owe you for."
"You owe me nothing, Draco," Hermione said, resheathing her wand. "I know you don't believe that, but it is true. You've paid enough of a price, now. You don't owe anyone anything."
He refused to make eye contact with her, and she knew that she had a lot more work to do to convince him that his debts had been more than paid with five years in Azkaban.
"Shall we finish the pie?" Hermione asked, hoping to break the tension and move back into safer territory.
"You go out and play with Theo. I don't need you anywhere near the knives."
Hermione rolled her eyes at him but agreed. She felt the need to get space at the moment. Her emotions about Draco were so confusing and she wasn't sure what was changing between them. All she did know was that she could never send him back to Azkaban - under any circumstance. Even the thought made her heart race.
She was growing worried at exactly how much she was willing to risk to make sure he never went back there. When she really thought about the prospect of being made to return him to the prison, she envisioned all manner of scenarios to avoid it, fight it, and some of those scenarios were reckless. She wondered at what point she'd stop caring.
Theo was kneeling by her mother's old vegetable garden when she walked outside. "Oh!" he said, blushing when he realised she was next to him. He'd been so focused a hippogriff could have charged through the back garden and she doubted he'd have noticed.
"I just wanted to have a look. When the weather warms, I'd like to try to revive it, if you don't mind."
"Of course, I don't mind," she said, warmly. "Better that than neglected as it has been for five years." The thought actually made her very happy. It would give Theo a purpose and get him in the fresh air, which she believed had already been very good for him.
Both Draco and Theo had gained a little weight even in the few days they'd been under her care. Their colouring was better. Theo's eyes were no longer ringed in black. How much of their state - the state of all the Marked Death Eaters was being exacerbated by poor care, she wondered. The thought made her angry.
"I believe that Muggle planting begins in March, so it will be time soon enough," Hermione said. She didn't want to think about the fact that he might not be there come March, so she pushed that thought out of her head.
"I see Draco kicked you out of the kitchen," Theo said with a chuckle. "I knew that was bound to happen. He doesn't work well with others."
"Now, that is something I already knew," Hermione said, the corner of her lips quirking up.
"Actually," she continued, "I cut myself chopping carrots and he no longer trusts me with a knife."
Theo looked at her for a moment. "That must have been hard for him."
Hermione's brow furrowed. "He didn't take it well, no. But why?"
She finally got to ask her question, but she asked Theo - because Theo might actually tell her.
"If there is one thing Draco got from his father, it's the desire to protect the things he cares about," Theo said. "He doesn't care about many people, so his focus is absolute."
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Theo shook his head. "He cares for you, Hermione. It's confusing for him, and incredibly frustrating. He doesn't know if he cares because of your kindness or because he feels he owes you for everything you are doing, but it really doesn't matter. You are in that inner circle of people he cares about, and we are a lucky few. We also torment him."
Hermione swallowed, feeling guilty all of a sudden. Had she done something she shouldn't have done? Had she caused him to feel that she needed his protection? She could think of nothing she'd done - other than sending a message to his mother - that was unprofessional or out of line with what any decent person would do.
"It's worse now that he has no magic, he's physically weakened. The scenarios that go through his head that could happen to us - I'm working on him. I'm trying to get him to understand that we are not his responsibility - but he is prone to hardheadedness."
Hermione chuckled at that, but her heart wasn't in it. Theo's words were swimming inside her head, planting seeds and taking root in ways she didn't understand and made her feel both vulnerable and uneasy. Theo had no reason to lie to her, and she'd seen Draco's change of behaviour with her own eyes. If she's been inadvertently made part of his circle of trust and people he cared for what did that mean? Did she also care for him - beyond her righteous need to save him?
When Draco joined them outside while dinner finished cooking, Hermione tried very hard to push those thoughts out of her mind, but she couldn't help but look at him differently - watch him closely.
He cares for you, Hermione.
We torment him.
"What?" Draco asked, a slight chuckle flowing from his lips, and it made her insides squirm. Apparently, she'd been staring.
"Nothing," she blushed, looking away. "So, what do you think you want to plant, Theo?" she asked, changing the subject. She had to prepare for her Hogwarts trip and didn't have time for any of the confusing thoughts swirling through her brain.