Hello lovelies!
Happy middle of the week. Hopefully you are all staying safe and healthy!
I've been insanely busy since the start of the new year, but I've managed to finally finish writing and editing this chapter. I also just posted another re-written chapter up on Archive of Our Own (Ao3) in case that interests anyone. Same story name and same username :)
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, only the story line and any OC's belong to me
Please leave a review and let me know what you think x
Monday, April 12th 1999
Potter Manor
Once the news of Hermione and Draco's engagement made the rounds to those closest to them, Ron announced that they would hold a large engagement party in their honour. After NEWTs concluded. He'd made the addendum after a pointed comment from Hermione.
Theo and Blaise decided to congratulate their brother in an alternative manner. A crisp letter arrived in the talons of a snowy white owl with black-tipped feathers. Hermione marvelled at the bird as she fed it a couple treats for its trouble. It hooted happily before taking flight again, returning to its Italian owner.
"Blaise likes eccentric and exotically beautiful things," Draco answered Hermione's unasked question. She handed him the envelope and his brow furrowed.
Swiftly he opened the envelope and withdrew the letter, he unfolded it and a puff of fuschia powder hit him in the face, it speckled his skin. His face screwed up in disdain, his eyes squeezed shut. He unwittingly inhaled some of it. He bent-double, gagging and protesting vigorously. "It tastes like mud."
"I don't think they intended for it to taste like treacle tart," Hermione said, stifling a laugh. Tickled pink by the state of her fiancé.
"Bastards," Draco grumbled. The powder seeped into his skin and disappeared moments later. It's true effect became apparent at the same time.
A full-bodied laugh that started in her gut burst from Hermione's lips as Draco's skin turned gold and his raven strands became crimson.
"What?"
"I think they've accepted the fact that you're a bleeding heart Gryffindor now," Hermione said cheerfully.
Draco hastily headed for Hermione's bathroom. Hermione settled back into her armchair and was about to resume reading the Daily Prophet—published on February seventh—when a high-pitched, shrill scream came from the bathroom.
Hermione and Draco had settled in for the day to catch up on everything that had happened since they'd left. Draco was three quarters through the stack of Quibblers magazines—published weekly—that had come out over the same time period.
Hermione had considerably more material to get through with the Prophet articles, but she wasn't having as much fun as Draco. He had been thoroughly enjoying himself, stating that Xenophilius had a way with words. Several articles were by Luna—she worked on them outside of her scholarly pursuits—and he thought they were remarkable.
"They are an eccentric pair, but they are brilliant."
(When he was finished with the Quibbler issues, Draco would switch to the Prophet, and vice versa for Hermione.)
Before Hermione could get back to her reading, she noticed that the now harmless, discarded letter was on the ground at her feet. She folded her paper in two and placed it on the side table in between her armchair and Draco's. She picked up the letter and perused it with muted glee.
"Good news, gorgeous! It's only supposed to last a couple days, if not, they say they will possibly be able to arrange a floo call meeting. If you are convincing enough, they will provide instructions on how to brew a counter agent that will return you to your "irritatingly good-looking self."
"I'm fucking gold," Draco sputtered as he appeared in the bathroom doorway, horror etched onto his features.
"They made you shiny and you kind of glitter in the light," Hermione noted.
"I'm gold," Draco repeated.
"I'm glad your powers of observation are still intact," Hermione said. She carefully leaned over and deposited the letter in Draco's seat. She plucked her Newspaper off the table, and picked up where she left off.
"I'm gold." Draco sulked as he dragged himself back to his seat. He snatched the letter off the cushion and devoured Blaise's slanted cursive. "This was Theo's idea. I just know it."
"You're still very pretty, love," Hermione reassured Draco, not tearing her eyes away from the article.
"I'm going to get even," Draco promised.
"I'm sure you will. Regardless, it could have been worse."
Draco grunted in affirmation. He also knew that were their roles reversed, he would have to stop his witch from setting the offenders ablaze. He chose not to point that out.
Draco heaved out a sigh and sat back down, grumpily resuming his reading. He would get even, but he would have to wait until they least expected it.
Tuesday, April 13th, 1999
Undisclosed Location Along Wales's Coastline, UK
Sett Cottage
Hermione inhaled the salty sea air as it whipped across her. She wiggled her toes inside her ankle-length, black leather boots. She'd begrudgingly put on shoes since it had been raining in the area for the past couple days.
The ground was soft and slippery underfoot as she made her way towards the quaint cottage. A light drizzle assaulting her clear poncho. She'd cast water-repellant charms as an extra precaution to ensure she remained dry.
Hermione's heart raced in her chest. She arrived on the landing and raised her closed fist to knock, but she faltered. Draco told her that Riley wasn't harbouring any bitter, ill feelings toward them, but doubt crawled through her lungs, restricting her breathing.
We essentially forced her to live out here away from her loved ones for two decades, Hermione thought sadly.
The door flew open. Hermione's eyes widened and within moments her arms were full of a soft yet strong body, and legs were wrapped around her waist.
The woman's body was trembling and her bright smell swirled around Hermione.
"I've missed you," Riley said. Hermione gripped the underside of the woman's thighs and laughed lightly.
"I'm sorry I didn't come round earlier."
Riley harshly pulled back, her hands on Hermione's cheeks and squeezing her face. "No, you and Draco needed your time alone to process everything. Don't be sorry, my love."
Riley bumped her nose against Hermione's. "I guess I'm the older one now."
"Not you too," Hermione said, she rolled her eyes but she was smiling. "Draco was delighted when he pointed out that he is technically older than me now."
"Do you mind?" Riley asked.
"Not really," Hermione shrugged. She carefully lowered Riley to the ground, and loosely looped her hands around Riley's waist. Time had been kind to Riley, she looked almost exactly as she did when Hermione last saw her. The lines around her mouth and the corner of her eyes are a bit more defined, but that's it.
A single tear leaked out the corner of Riley's hazel eye. "Pandora says thank you."
"What? Pandora?" Hermione frowned deeply. She couldn't think of anything Pandora would need to thank her for.
"Ah, right. You wouldn't know. I went to check on Pandora after you left…well it's a long story, but she remembered me."
Surprise shocked its way onto Hermione's features. It went against reason and magic that Pandora was able to remember Riley.
The only person whose memory shouldn't have been affected was Dumbledore. He placed magical barriers in his mind, Hermione thought.
"Pandora wanted to thank you for taking care of me, and for making sure I was safe," Riley said.
"Anything else?" Hermione asked in disbelief. The crisp wind caused her curls to blow around, some of the strands hit her face; they stung.
"Thank you for befriending her daughter and for ensuring that her loved ones would be able to see peace. Thank you for protecting our future." Riley exhaled deeply, as if she was shedding the weight of the words she'd carried with her for years.
The sharp eyes that had seen straight through her, deep into her soul came to mind. Pandora was a frightening witch in her own right. Thankfully, neither Dumbledore nor Voldemort had figured out how prolific her gift of Sight was. It would have changed everything.
"I'm sorry we forced you to live here—" Hermione started, but was silenced swiftly as Riley pressed her index finger to Hermione's lips.
"Riley—" Hermione attempted, but the older witch shook her head with a pleasant smile.
"I forgave you for all that a long time ago, Hermione. It's in the distant past. More importantly, someone else is here and they have been eagerly awaiting your return." Riley said.
Hermione sighed as Riley removed her finger. Riley was a stubborn witch, once she made up her mind it was nigh impossible to change it. Hermione was the same, but she didn't think this was an argument she wished to have. Riley affectionately tugged on one of Hermione's curls.
"Someone else?" Hermione wondered aloud. She was drawing a blank, she couldn't think of who Riley meant.
Hermione didn't get a chance to glance properly inside the cottage when she first arrived. The front door was wide open, and a sleek black cat greeted them on the other side of the threshold. It was sitting back on its haunches, body straight and regal as it watched them approach.
"Midnight?" Hermione asked, but as soon as she met the feline's eyes she knew she was mistaken. "No, you're not Midnight." Hermione squatted beside the cat and loosely held her hand out.
"That's Twilight. She's Midnight's granddaughter," Riley explained.
Twilight purred slowly as she pressed her head into Hermione's hand. Riley laughed softly. "She likes you."
Hermione smiled, greatly pleased by the approval. She gently used her index and middle fingers to stroke in between the cat's ears. She may not be Midnight, but her presence was similar. It wasn't magic exactly, but it was something akin to it.
"Hermione!" An airy voice called. Hermione glanced up and noticed Luna sitting primly on the sofa.
An array of oil paints and brushes were spread out on the coffee table. Two light-stained, wooden easels with large canvases were set up in between the sofa and coffee table.
Luna's crinkly, dirty blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun on top of her head, a few strands framed her face. Paint covered her hands, and a couple streaks were on her cheeks.
"Have you come to join us?" Luna asked, cocking her head to the side. The pale blue dress she was wearing is surprisingly free of paint.
"Not exactly, but now that you're here…I have a proposition for you, Lu," Hermione grinned mischievously.
"Is it about the interview?" Luna asked. She went back to her painting, she was using a fine, rounded brush and adding in tiny details.
"Interview?" Riley asked. She strode past Hermione and rejoined Luna on the sofa. Hermione rose and headed for the coffee table. She found a clear space on it and propped herself on the edge, she faced the other two witches.
"I know better now than to ask how you knew what I wanted to talk to you about," Hermione mused aloud. Pandora's unnerving foresight and way of knowing things frightened her in the past, but she'd come to accept that there are some things that are beyond the realm of reason. It seemed the Lovegood women's gift was one of those things.
Hermione absently tugged on the end of one of her curls. Luna paused in her painting to peer around her canvas at Hermione.
"When did you want it to come out?"
"Does anyone want to explain what's going on?" Riley interrupted.
"May third, Luna. Riley, I'm offering Luna an exclusive interview to be published in the Quibbler."
"Sorry, what?" Riley asked. She twirled a paintbrush between her fingers as she glanced between her companions in shock.
"It's good to be proactive about these things. Control the narrative if you will," Hermione said with a shrug. "I despise having to explain myself over and over again. There is bound to be hordes of confusion in our society now that we're back."
"And you're Hermione and Draco Potter now?" Riley added.
Hermione nodded. "Exactly. Some people know us as the Potter 'twins' and others as Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. Either way, since most people only know parts of our story, they are bound to cause a ruckus. I honestly cannot be arsed to deal with all the fallout."
Riley's brow puckered. "They aren't entitled to shite, you don't have to tell anyone anything if you don't want to. And they'll figure it out eventually."
Hermione pressed her lips together, sorrow swimming in her hazel eyes. "It's not me I'm worried about."
Draco had briefly touched on the topic since they'd been back, but she feared that his concerns ran much deeper than he'd let on. He'd told her some details about what it was like in those months after the war, but not the full extent of abuse that had been hurled at him.
Hermione was worried about the unknown wix in their society that would revile and target him because of his former life. That would only see him as Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater.
"He was a child," Riley said, her words quiet but quaking with anger.
"Even so, some people will treat him horribly, and if I can lessen that, even a little, I will do everything in my power to keep him safe." Hermione said firmly.
Luna hummed softly, she'd resumed her painting. "I'm sure a statement by Kingsley and Harry would also help."
"Luna Lovegood, you wondrous creature. I could kiss you," Hermione grinned brightly. She jumped up and strode over to Luna's side. She gasped as she saw what Luna was painting.
"I don't think Draco would be very happy about that," Luna said.
Hermione dropped onto the sofa's arm. She rested a hand on Luna's shoulder and covered her mouth with her other one as a fat tear streaked down the side of her face. "H-How?"
"It was in my dream last night," Luna answered simply.
Riley hadn't been focusing on Luna's canvas, she found it was more rewarding to witness the completion of Luna's creations rather than the rough process. Especially since she would often abandon her own work and watch Luna instead, as if in a trance.
Hermione, Draco and James. It was a painting of the three siblings on their first proper day at Potter Manor. The sky was bright blue and a sense of the day's heat was radiating off the canvas. They were all sitting at the pool's edge, feet dangling in the water. Sunlight glittered on the water's surface. The three of them were laughing.
"Some people may never understand, but what's important is those of us that do. That accept you both for who you are, and will protect those we care about," Luna said. There was an edge to her normally dreamlike tone.
"Luna."
"The interview will help you transition back into the present," Luna said.
"And you can't trust anyone at the Prophet to not distort things to suit their own narrative and agenda. Having Luna do it is the best option," Riley added.
You can say that again. That reminds me that I have to do something about that twat, Skeeter, Hermione mused.
Luna's artwork made her heart squeeze and Hermione held back tears. "Thank you," Hermione sniffed. She doubted she would ever understand Luna's gift, but she was grateful for it.
There was no one else better suited for the job, she was glad she'd thought of the young girl. Luna would tell their story properly, give it the respect it deserved. She wouldn't contort it at her whims to make it more scandalous so it would be more profitable.
"I won't add in the part about you being Sirius's first kiss," Luna said with a crooked smile. Riley snorted out a laugh, she was privy to said information, but that didn't stop her amusement at her goddaughter somehow being in possession of it.
Hermione choked on air for a split second. "Goodness, I have missed you Luna Lovegood," Hermione laughed.
"I've missed you too, Hermione. I was afraid you might avoid me for a while since Mum frightened you so much in the past."
Something frail was attached to Luna's voice, and the witch clutched her paintbrush an infinitesimal bit tighter. If one wasn't aware of Luna's idiosyncrasies, you might assume she was wholly unbothered, but Hermione had learned to decipher the subtle changes in the girl's body language over the years.
Sadness prevailed over Hermione. It was true that some of the things Pandora had said scared her, but ultimately she held a great deal of fondness for the witch.
I'm sad I never got to have a proper goodbye with her before she passed…or with so many others, Hermione thought ruefully. Reminiscing on the friends she'd lost in between her departure from the past and her return to the present.
"It's true that your Mum's clairvoyance frightened me, but she was a lovely woman."
"She was," Luna whispered.
Riley sniffled, the loss of her friend had dulled over the years, but she missed her every day. "Why the third?" Riley asked, trying to shift the topic.
Hermione's eyes sparkled as she thought about it. She clapped her hands together excitedly. "Organised chaos, Riles."
"Hermione. Seriously, why the third?" Riley repeated.
Hermione's grin grew wider and brighter. "Siriusly, it's because it's the day after the Ministry Gala."
Riley quirked a brow as Hermione's reasons dawned on her. "You never do anything in half-measures do you?"
"Now what would be the fun in that?"