As my feet settled on the floor in Granger's house, my head spun.
Pressing my fingers into my eyes, I took deep breaths, avoiding looking at her. After what we'd just seen, I needed a few seconds to process, and I was sure she did, too. A few things I'd said were sticking in my mind, making my stomach churn.
I'll take you anywhere you want to go, Granger.
I could never forget a single centimetre of you.
It doesn't matter how it ends — I just needed you to know what you mean to me.
The more I thought, the angrier I became. At my sides, my hands curled into fists, my fingernails biting into the skin of my palms.
I hated her.
I hated her so fucking much.
But, more than I hated her, I hated myself.
The choices I'd made, the way I'd obviously changed her… She was so different from the Granger in the memories.
"Draco?"
In a controlled, even tone, I said, "I can't talk to you right now."
She didn't answer.
Once I opened my eyes, I saw that she'd moved to her sofa, curling up as small as possible on one side. There were tears in her eyes and they made me even angrier at myself.
Yes, this was hard for me but, if she loved me the way she said she did, it was just as difficult for her.
I looked away.
"I'll—We can talk on Thursday," I told her. "I'm… Fuck, I don't know what I am."
"It's fine, Draco," she replied. "As much as you might hate me right now, just know that I hate myself even more. I understand."
Her words mirrored my thoughts and floored me.
Taking a deep breath, I looked over at her once more. "Listen, Granger. That was a lot to take in. Did you hear what I said? That I'd never forget a centimetre of you? That I didn't care how things ended as long as you knew how I felt?"
Her eyes widened fractionally. "Draco, no, you're looking at things with a bias. I didn't — I would never take that literally."
"Can we talk about Astoria? The pregnancy?" I asked, changing the subject. "Why don't you believe that I only slept with her that one time?"
Hermione wiped at her eyes. "Because there's no way—"
"Fertility potion, Granger."
"Yes, of course I understand that," she began, her voice cracking. "But you slept with her. And I know it's ridiculous that I care about it since I was the other woman and had no claim over you, but you promised me you wouldn't. You told me you were trying to find a way to break the contract and get a divorce—"
"I was?"
She shrugged. "I don't really know, Draco. I never saw any proof of it, so it felt like a lie."
"And you weren't in love with me in Greece?"
Again, she shrugged. "I didn't think I was at the time."
"And now?" I asked, desperate to know, even if it made no difference.
"Now I think I loved you all along," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why else would I have made myself miserable for a year?"
"What do you mean?"
Letting out a sigh, she said, "It's not important."
"Granger—"
"You said you wanted to talk on Thursday. Let's talk then."
Even though she'd interrupted me, she sounded resigned, like she didn't have the heart to keep having this discussion.
"Fine. We'll talk then," I conceded. "But I want to read the letter I wrote to you now."
Shrugging, she gestured for me to continue. "Go ahead, if you really want to. I just think you're going to get angry all over again if you do."
"Well, I'm still angry, so it's no big deal."
Moving back to the dining table, I picked up the folded piece of parchment she'd tried to give to me before we went into the Pensieve. As I started to unfold it, my heart sped up. She'd offered to let me look at these kinds of things before, but I'd never taken her up on it.
My handwriting was the same as it had been before, so I instantly recognised it.
Hermione,
Thank you for an amazing weekend. I know it was my gift to you for your birthday, but I feel like I'm the one who really received something special. This thing between us — it's not something I expected, but it's made me happier than I've ever been in my entire life. That's not an exaggeration, even if it sounds like one. You have given me so much of your time and, honestly, yourself. I can't even begin to express what that means to me.
I never thought I would get the chance to really know you. I thought we'd be acquaintances, co-workers — people who were distant, even though we'd been in each other's lives in one capacity or another since we were children. And now that I know you, I can't imagine not knowing you. I always suspected we would fit together perfectly — that you would complete me — but these past few months have confirmed it for me.
I know the chances of us spending your birthday together again next year are slim since you'll likely have moved on to someone who can give you everything you deserve, but just know that I will always think of this weekend away. Every 19th of September, I'll turn these memories over in my mind and find another little detail about you to love, even if it's from afar.
Like I told you last night, it doesn't matter how it ends. I just want to make the most of every single second that you and I spend together now.
I'll worship your body anytime, goddess.
I love you.
Draco
When I finished reading the letter, anger rushed through my veins again. But this time, it was more directed at myself. I'd told her I loved her, yes, but I'd also made it seem like she and I would never really have a chance. In the past, it seemed like I'd been willing to accept that she would move on. Even if that was at odds with my actions from the last memory, I'd still made it sound like I was okay with our relationship being temporary.
There was no chance I had actually felt that way.
I looked up and Granger was watching my expression carefully. I wanted to tear the parchment down the middle and toss it aside, but I knew I couldn't do that. She'd saved all of my letters, so they obviously meant something to her.
Clearing her throat, she said, "Well? What did you think?"
"It's just more of the same. I loved you, but I figured you'd leave me," I replied with a shrug. "Oh, and I was going to cherish the memories. Obviously that didn't happen."
Her cheeks reddened and she averted her eyes again.
"I'm sorry, Draco," she murmured. "Gods, remembering some of the things you said now that I know how it all ended — it makes it seem like I was intentionally — that I did this out of spite. But I didn't see another way forward."
I couldn't think of anything to say, so I stood there silently, letting the tension build between us. After a few moments, I looked towards the fireplace and took a few steps.
"You're leaving?" she asked, making me pause.
"I am. We'll talk more on Thursday. I just, I can't right now," I responded. "It's all too much."
She nodded, not saying anything further.
With one final glance in her direction, I took a handful of Floo Powder from the container on her mantle and threw it down in the grate.
But then I remembered the expression she'd worn on Sunday night when she'd thought I was going home to Astoria. I warred with myself for a second and then decided she needed to know.
She was pretending not to listen to where I was going, but I knew she was waiting with bated breath.
"I'm staying in the guest room of my house. I didn't want to be away from Scorpius every single day."
I heard her exhale. "I understand."
"See you in the morning."
Nodding, she rose from the couch. Before I vanished, I saw her heading for the stairs and I imagined her curling up in bed, finally letting the tears she'd been holding back all night fall.
She was alone, and I was just leaving her to cry on her own.
But I knew I couldn't stay.
As soon as I stepped into the kitchen of my house, I tried to forget that image and focus on the exuberant toddler running towards me.
This was what Granger had wanted, why she'd done what she'd done — Scorpius needed a full-time father.
She didn't need me.
She hadn't loved me, not in Greece.
Forcing a smile, I scooped my son off the ground and gave him my full attention.
I couldn't think about her.
After an hour of playing with Scorpius and getting him ready for bed, I walked into the spare bedroom and closed the door; I didn't want Astoria to think that she and I would be spending time together as soon as Scorpius was down for the night, and I wasn't in the mood to argue about the fertility potion again.
I finally let my mind wander to the memory as a whole.
Starting from the beginning, I tried to think things through. Blaise's eyes had been on Hermione, watching her carefully as she watched me. I wouldn't have noticed it at the time — especially since Blaise was sitting beside me — but I could see it clearly in the memory.
He had definitely been trying to cockblock me in the last two memories she'd shown me, and I wondered how many more he would show up in. I wondered if Granger would be watching for him, too.
As I loosened my tie — and noticed that it was blue — I thought about the Mediterranean.
And her knickers.
Fuck, she'd stripped them off and just handed them to me like it was no big deal.
Subconsciously, I started to undress faster, my shirt hitting the floor just a few seconds before my trousers. I was left in my pants and, much to my surprise, my cock was hard.
Harder than it had been in months.
I closed my eyes, trying to bring my body to heel, but she was all I saw. The way her arms stretched over her head while she was topless and walking towards me, the way she'd spread herself out for me, the way she'd looked on top of me, her head thrown back in ecstasy.
And those images did nothing to calm the arousal coursing through my veins.
I hated her, but I wanted her. I wanted to remember everything about her properly, from the way her skin felt against mine to the scent of the sweat on her skin to the taste of her tongue.
With a sigh, I sat on the edge of the bed and braced my elbows on my knees, tangled my fingers in my hair. I could feel the ache in my balls, the stiffness of my cock. But I didn't want to revert to the teenage version of myself, wanking to the thought of Granger behind closed doors.
The more I tried to push her out of my mind, the more I remembered, and my body grew more and more desperate for a release.
On her knees between my thighs, the way her lips had teased me, the way her hand had wrapped around the base…
Giving up, I stood and stripped my shorts off, climbing back into the bed and wishing I had the Pensieve and memories so I didn't have to try so hard to visualise her.
She was a fucking goddess.
Like I had hundreds of times before, I murmured a spell — one passed down from pureblood male to pureblood male — and my palm filled with lubricant. I swallowed hard, fully knowing that I shouldn't be doing this. I didn't forgive her. I fucking hated her.
But, fuck, she was all I could see. She was all I wanted to see.
As I started stroking myself, squeezing the head of my prick on every upstroke and twisting my wrist, I imagined her.
In The Leaky Cauldron — up against the plain white walls, begging me.
Bent over her desk in the office — arse in the air, knuckles white from grabbing the opposite edge as she screamed for me.
Heated kisses in the file room.
On that damn sun lounger in Mykonos.
And then my mind started making up scenarios, and I had no idea if they were things we'd already done or not.
I saw us together in her house — on the dining table where the trunk and the Pensieve had taken up residence, on the sofa where she'd been curled up, and then in her bed.
Fuck, in her bed.
When I'd gone up into her bedroom, the sheets had been red.
Red, like the dress I could remember giving her.
Like fucking Gryffindor or anger or passion — all things that I would forever associate with her.
And then I imagined her spread out on those red sheets, tanned skin completely bare, just waiting for me.
I groaned audibly, my hand squeezing harder, moving faster.
In my mind, she crawled off the bed and dropped to her knees in front of me.
I like giving—
She'd been saying that before my past self had stupidly cut her off.
Red lips wrapped around the head of my cock. And she looked up at me through her lashes, her big brown eyes radiating heat. Threading my fingers into her hair, I guided her, watching the whole time.
Fantasy Granger kept her eyes on me the whole time too.
As I imagined her, I felt little tingles of magic coursing up and down my spine, reminding me of the first time she'd touched me in her office.
It felt so right, even if it was wrong.
The tingles moved downwards — straight into my groin — and I felt my cock swelling in my hand. In my head, I said, "Granger, I'm going to come."
Or maybe it was aloud.
Fuck, I was so far gone, I didn't even know.
Fantasy Granger took me deeper, her tongue teasing the underside of my cock, and pushed me over the edge, swallowing everything I gave her.
When my body started to calm and I felt the spend on my hand, I murmured a cleaning spell, the temporary relief lessened by the self-loathing I felt.
She took away every bit of self-control I possessed years ago, and now she was doing it again.
I hated her and wanted her in equal measure.
Honestly, I didn't know where that would lead me.
How thin was the line between love and hate? And would I cross it without even realising it?
When I woke the next morning, I sent an owl to the office saying I would be in a bit late. After my lust-filled haze had dissipated, I'd remembered something Granger said the night before.
You told me you were trying to find a way to break the contract and get a divorce.
I didn't know if it was true or not, and when I asked Astoria that morning, she simply shrugged and said she had no idea. She'd never been included in my affairs.
I hadn't missed the double entendre.
That left only one option — I had to speak to my father. If anyone knew for sure, it would likely be him. And, if he didn't know what I was talking about, he would at least have a copy of the marriage contract for me to look over.
Stepping through the Floo at Malfoy Manor, I heard my mother's surprised voice. "Draco?"
I simply nodded. "Yes, it's me."
She threw her arms around me, hugging me close. Even though I was still furious with everyone in my life, I returned her embrace. As soon as my arms were wrapped around her, she relaxed.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry," she said, repeating herself over and over again. "I should've stopped it. I'm sorry."
Not sure what to say, I remained silent. Eventually, she pulled back and looked up at me, searching my eyes for the answer I hadn't given her.
"I'm not going to tell you it's okay," I replied. "So if that's what you're looking for—"
"Of course not." She wiped her eyes. "I know what we did — the lying, the hiding, all of it — it wasn't okay."
I swallowed hard. I had always hated seeing my mother upset, and today was no exception.
"Are you going to say anything?" she asked after a moment of strained silence.
"I'm not ready to talk," I answered honestly. "I'm here because I need to know about my marriage contract. Is Father here?"
"What do you need to know?"
Running a hand through my fringe, I said, "Granger… She told me I said I was looking for a way to break the contract and get a divorce. But she didn't believe that I was actually trying to. She never saw any proof of it."
My mother's shoulders sagged, and I was certain she knew something I couldn't remember — maybe knew something that even my father and Astoria didn't know.
With a sigh, she turned and gestured for me to follow her. When we ended up in her study, I knew something was off. She took out her wand and started deconstructing wards on a desk drawer.
As she worked, she explained, "After everything… When I found out how long things had been going on between you and Hermione, I went to your father's solicitor to get the contract. I wanted to see if there was any way to break it, should the need arise."
"And?"
She held up a finger, signalling that she needed a minute. When her wand stopped moving, the drawer popped open.
"This is going to make everything seem worse right now," she began, meeting my eyes as she handed me a stack of parchment. "But you'd already started the process, Draco. The solicitor had been looking for a way to break the contract without your father's signature."
My stomach turned.
"It… Well, the solicitor found a way."
I looked at the date on the parchment. 18th November 2005.
"After Granger Obliviated me," I said, reading the details. "Upon Scorpius' birth, I could have surrendered my portion of the Malfoy holdings to him and been free to break the contract."
She nodded. "You were so close."
A heavy weight settled in the pit of my stomach.
"So, am I—does this mean I'm already divorced?"
"No," my mother replied. "Not right now. But, if you want to be, you need only take this to the solicitor. Any inherited gold would transfer to Scorpius, along with the Manor and other properties upon your father's death."
Behind my back, I twisted my hands together, my nerves taking over.
"Do you…" I trailed off, the question sticking in my throat.
"Just ask, Draco," she said. "I'll tell you whatever it is you want to know."
"Do you think he'll sign the papers to break the contract?"
"Without a doubt," she answered. "I know you don't want to hear this, but the guilt has been eating at your father since Scorpius was born."
While I found that a bit interesting, I simply didn't care. Not right now. My father's guilt always got the best of him, sooner or later. Unfortunately for me, it was usually far too late to fix whatever predicament he'd managed to put me in.
"So this—" I held up the papers she'd retrieved for me "—isn't needed. It was all for nothing because it came too late."
Nervously, she chewed at her bottom lip. "You could show it to Hermione."
"Why would I do that?"
"Draco, you love her—"
"Loved her," I corrected. "I loved her until I found out what she did to me. And she's with Blaise."
My mother scoffed and waved a hand. "That won't last another week now that you're back in the picture. She's not been sleeping with him — not since you two were spotted in Falmouth."
"That was less than two weeks ago, Mother," I reminded her. "And how do you even know that?"
"I just do," she said. "She wouldn't — not when you're going to her house every other night."
"I hate her," I replied petulantly, and she narrowed her eyes at me. "Listen, Mother, I appreciate that you have confidence that Granger will want to fix this, but I don't want to."
"I'm not going to push you, Draco," she began, her voice taking on the coaxing tone she used with my father, signalling that she absolutely was going to push me. "But be kind to Hermione. She's been through a lot—"
"She has been through a lot? What about me?"
Chastened, she corrected herself. "You've both been through a lot. But if you're cruel to her, you may push her away forever."
"And that would be fine," I stated, even though the very thought of never seeing her again made the weight in my stomach grow heavier, the nausea intensify.
"It wouldn't be fine, and you know it."
Unwilling to continue the conversation, I started making my way towards the door. "I need to get to work. Thank you for these."
"Draco, your father—"
"I'll come back when I'm ready to talk," I said, ending the conversation. "Until then, arrange time with Scorpius through Astoria since she's home with him during the day."
Her lips quirked up in a small smile.
As usual, she knew she'd won — if I was going to let her see Scorpius, my anger towards her was cooling and I'd come around.
However, I wasn't ready yet. And I certainly wasn't ready to face my father.
Just as I was about to leave, I remembered something.
"Mother?"
She looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue.
"The books I got from Granger over the years… Are they still here?" I asked.
"I'm not quite sure," she replied, rising to her feet. "Didn't you read some of them while you were recovering?"
I nodded. "I did, but I'm willing to bet there are more than those few Muggle ones."
"Well, you weren't really living here during the months you were seeing Hermione. You may have to ask Astoria where they ended up—"
"She probably burned them," I grumbled, and then I thought back to when I'd first started recovering. "But the Muggle books were here. I wonder if I kept them in the Manor. You know, for obvious reasons."
My mother considered what I'd said. "We had the elves pack some things up from your old bedroom. They might be in those boxes."
She snapped her fingers and Cherie appeared at her side. "Cherie, can you please tell me if you have any books from Draco's room stored anywhere?"
Cherie nodded, her ears swaying with the motion. "We has some in the attic, Master Draco. They was on the top shelf in your closet."
If they were hidden away, they must have been significant.
"Can you please send them over to my house at some point? I'm staying in the bedroom beside Scorpius'."
"Yes, of course, Master Draco."
"Thank you, Cherie. You don't have to do it right now."
She bowed and popped away, and my mother turned to me.
"If you don't love her, why do you want the books?" she asked carefully.
I swallowed hard. "Because I need to know what happened. That's all, Mother."
"The books won't provide clarity on that. I can't imagine she wrote full love letters in them."
With a shrug of my shoulders, I said, "It doesn't matter. I want to know everything, no matter how small."
She sighed. "Okay, Draco."
"I've got to get to the office anyway," I told her. "I'm already behind schedule."
"Alright. I'll see you..." Her words trailed off, and even though I was mad, I couldn't leave without reassuring her that I'd be back.
I kissed her cheek, the way I'd been doing for nearly my whole life, and she smiled.
"Thank you for the papers," I said quietly. "I'll have to figure out when I started the whole process."
"I've no doubt you'll put it all together."
"Malfoy."
At the sound of Blaise's voice, my hackles instantly rose. This was exactly like the day he'd pulled me out into the hallway to tell me to stay away from Granger.
In my head, I swore to Salazar that I would Avada him on the spot if this was more of that same bullshit.
"Zabini," I answered, casting a Muffliato. "How can I help you?"
"Where is she?" he asked, sounding slightly desperate.
Immediately, my eyes bounced over to Granger's door. It was after ten and she still wasn't here.
That was unusual.
"I don't know—"
"Don't lie to me," Blaise growled under his breath. "I know you were with her last night."
Holding my hands up, I said, "I went home around eight and put Scorpius to bed. We watched the memory, and I left."
He looked towards her door again.
"Was she upset when you left?"
A feeling of dread started to seep into my consciousness, and I remembered another thing Granger had said to me before we watched the first memory — I had to deal with so fucking much that I ended up institutionalised and then in therapy for eight months after that! Don't pretend like you know what my life's been like.
"Yes," I answered, my chest tightening. "Yes, she seemed upset."
His hands flew to the sides of his head, his palms pressing against his temples. "And you just left her? Don't you understand—"
"What am I supposed to do?" Narrowing my eyes, I continued, "Honestly, would you have preferred that I stayed with her? Held her?"
"Of course not—"
"I hate her, Blaise. I hate her for what she did to me, and I hate her for taking up with you. And I hate you for thinking that it's just okay that she did this to me—"
Just then, Potter's office door opened and Granger stepped out, her eyes watery. When she saw me standing beside Blaise, she dashed her tears with the back of her hand. She politely nodded and then made a hasty retreat to her office.
"Hermione—"
"Granger—"
Blaise and I spoke at the same time, and she froze.
I took a deep breath and shook my head. "Go ahead, Zabini. I'll catch up with her later."
The air was full of tension and I could see how stiff Granger's shoulders were. She didn't want to speak with Blaise — or maybe either of us — and she couldn't relax. I wondered what had happened or if she was still upset from the previous night…
"Malfoy," Potter said, drawing my attention away from Granger. "I need to talk to you about the Belby case. He's being arraigned tomorrow."
"Of course," I replied, taking a step towards him as Blaise followed Granger. "Whatever you need."
Potter stepped back into his office and waited for me to enter before closing the door.
"I've stayed out of this so far," he began, ruffling his dark hair even more than usual. "But she's becoming a wreck again."
"And what would you like me to do about it?"
He sighed. "Honestly? I want you to finish watching whatever memories she wants you to see and then I want you to stay away from her."
"That's my plan—"
"Is it?" he interrupted. "Because she seems to think that you were trying to tell her something last night."
"Explain."
"She said you were trying to convince her that you and Astoria only slept together the night she got pregnant," Potter said, looking down at his hands. "And she told me you also clarified your living arrangements for her."
I struggled to find the right words. "Potter, Astoria told me that we hadn't slept together for nearly eight months when we conceived Scorpius. Why would she lie about that?" His lips parted, but no sound came out, so I continued. "And I clarified my sleeping arrangements because she looked like I had punched her in the gut the first night I Floo'd back to my house. It's… It's all nothing. It's not important."
He shook his head. "This is what I meant, Malfoy. You need to stay away from her because she's searching for deeper meaning in everything you say to her. It is important to her."
Scoffing, I said, "It wasn't important to her when she stole my memories."
"You're an idiot." Closing his eyes, Potter rubbed at his forehead. "Honestly, how are you and Blaise both so fucking blind?"
"Well, I don't have glasses like yours," I quipped. "Why don't you explain it to me?"
"Because it's not my fucking place. But don't think for a second that she made that decision lightly or that it meant she suddenly didn't care about you, because she never stopped."
"You don't manipulate someone you love that way," I said, even though I knew the situation hadn't been that simple.
He narrowed his eyes at me. "You don't keep someone you love a dirty little secret for a year and a half."
While I knew he was right, I didn't acknowledge it. And I wasn't going to tell anyone that the solicitor had managed to find a loophole for a divorce; I hadn't even really processed it yet.
"Did you actually need to talk about Belby or did you just want to scold me for hurting Granger's feelings?"
"You're an arse," he said, resigned. "Everything for Belby's case was put together perfectly. I don't need anything else from you. Just be ready when you're called to testify."
I turned towards the door, ready to move on with my day, and then I remembered I hadn't been assigned a new case yet.
"Do you have anything else for me to work on? An older case that's been hanging around?"
Potter nodded. "I have an idea, but I'm going to have to find it. The file's been tucked away."
"Well, let me know when you have it in hand," I answered. "And — just so we're clear — I'm not working with Zabini on anything."
"Oh, I know. He's requested the same."
"Good."
Wrenching the door open, I strode over to my desk. Mel was at hers and greeted me with a smile.
"Anything new come in for you yet?"
"No," I replied. "Potter said he has something older for me, though. He just has to put the file together. Has Blaise brought you in on anything?"
She rolled her eyes. "Like he's been working. He's been spending half his time drunk in Falmouth since last week."
I wanted to question her, but I held back.
After a moment, she said, "He and Hermione are on the way out. I can feel it."
She was digging, saying all the right things to try to get information out of me. It seemed that Blaise was confiding in someone, and I wondered if he'd asked her to talk to me. If Granger wasn't speaking to him, then he might be looking for insight on what she'd been showing me…
Clearly, Mel had no idea who she was talking to. I turned the tables on her.
"What makes you say that?"
She pursed her lips, acting like she was thinking. "Well, since March, they've been together nearly every single night, and now she hasn't stayed with him in almost a week."
While I'd known that they were spending their nights together, it still made me feel ill.
Trying to act nonchalant, I shrugged. "Things happen. I'm sure they can work it out eventually."
She tapped her fingers on her desk, her fingernails clicking against the hard surface.
"I might agree with you if Blaise wasn't being such an utter tosser."
"Well, I honestly don't know much about him anymore. His behaviour is the same as it's been since I came back to work," I replied, trying not to give anything away.
"Oh, please," she said, rolling her eyes. "We all saw the three of you walk out of here in a huff last week. You're really not fooling anyone. We all know there's something going on, so you might as well tell me."
"Yeah, I'm not going to do that."
Mel started pulling her hair up into a ponytail. "Well, let me take a wild guess." As she wrapped the hair tie around and around, she continued, "You and Hermione had something going on at some point. I don't know if it was before you were married or after or what, but something. Or you fancied her and he knew about it—"
"I'm going to stop you right there," I stated. "This is all none of your business. If you want to know what's going on with Blaise and Granger, talk to him. I'm not going to tell you our whole life story."
"But there is a story?"
Fuck.
"You've just told me that everyone could see it. Blaise, Granger, Potter, Pansy, and I all went to school together which, again, everyone knows." Meeting her eyes, I said, "But, beyond that, I don't even know the story, which you seem to have conveniently forgotten."
"Draco, I'm sorry—"
"Don't apologise. You're here being a nosy bint, but I really can't figure out your angle. Did Blaise put you up to this? Or are you trying to figure out a way to get Granger out of the way because you're interested in him?"
Her cheeks reddened, and I knew I was at least close to the mark.
"Either way, talk to Blaise, not to me. I have no memory of just about anything since the end of the war, save Auror training and my son."
"I didn't mean to upset you," Mel said quietly, trying to calm me. "I just — I'm worried about him."
"Then talk to him," I replied. "Go sit with him while he's getting pissed or whatever—"
Granger's door flew open and Zabini came out, looking angrier than I'd ever seen him. He slammed it closed and then headed for the lifts. Mel's eyes followed him the whole way.
"There's your chance," I said to her. "Follow him. Find out what's going on if you really want to know. He'll likely tell you everything you want to know right now."
Shaking her head, she shrugged. "There's only one person he'll talk to right now, and it's definitely not me."
Granger didn't come out of her office all day.
While I sat at my desk and tied up the few loose ends for the Belby case, I was watching for her, waiting for her to make an appearance. Around midday, Potter brought her lunch. Two hours later, he went into her office, likely to say goodbye for the day.
By five, I was wondering if she was ever going to leave.
Standing and stretching, I took a deep breath, debating on whether or not I wanted to speak to her. Before I actively decided, my body was moving towards her office, a moth to the flame like always.
Like the years hadn't changed a thing.
When I knocked on the door, there was no answer, and I imagined her sitting behind her desk debating on whether or not she wanted to deal with whoever had dared to disturb her. After a moment, I tapped again, hoping she'd answer.
"Come in," she said, her voice small and barely audible. When she saw it was me, she sighed heavily. "What? What do you want?"
Closing the door behind me, I took a seat in front of her desk. "Bad day?"
She laughed but it sounded hysterical, like she might cry at any second.
"Is there something work-related that you need, Malfoy?"
I looked away. "No, there's not, but—"
"Please leave," she said. "I have a lot to do before next week, and I really can't handle both of you making me feel like I'm the one doing everything wrong in the same day."
"Granger," I replied carefully, keeping my tone measured and even. "I'm not here to do that. I came to check on you."
"Strange thing to do considering you hate me so much."
My head snapped back so I could meet her eyes. The warmth they'd radiated in my fantasy was gone. They were black — hollow — and I could feel her pain.
I repeated myself. "Granger—"
"Don't," she interrupted. "I knew that if you ever found out, you'd hate me. Really, I'm not surprised."
Her resigned tone left me speechless.
"Just go. I'll see you tomorrow night."
"Hermione—"
"Don't!" she cried. "You don't get to say you hate me and then waltz in here and pretend like we're friends, Draco!" Her fingers pressed into her temples and her eyes squeezed shut, tears escaping. "You don't get to call me Hermione when we're not — when you're not — when we're not even friends."
My throat tightened and every inch of my body was screaming at me to comfort her, to take her pain away.
Except for my brain.
My brain told me that she deserved this, that she had betrayed me and just cast me aside.
"And you're not even denying it," she continued, her hysteria rising. "Please, just go. Just let me try to figure out how to fix myself."
She was shattering in front of me; I could see her cracking, the pieces she'd somehow put back together falling apart again, and I wondered how many times I'd broken her.
How many times had she broken me?
I felt part of myself cracking now, splintering under the strain ignoring her put on me.
"If that's what you want," I said, and the sound was almost foreign, my voice hoarse.
Rising to my feet, I looked down at her, though her eyes were still closed and I could see she was keeping her lips pressed tightly together.
If the splintered piece of me fell, I left it with her, knowing it wasn't the only part of me she had in her possession.