After spending the day looking at rental properties, I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than a quick supper, an hour with my son, and my bed. However, I'd stupidly agreed to a dinner at the Manor, not realising it would take me a full day to find a townhouse that suited me.
On the plus side, I'd been so busy and frustrated that I hadn't had time to think about the previous night and what it meant. I'd held Hermione's hand, felt her magic tingling along my skin, and she'd leaned into me, accepting and relishing in the touch. I'd felt her pain and she'd felt mine; the memory had been so incredibly powerful.
Long after I'd arrived home, my skin still prickled, searching out the connection I'd broken when I left. I found myself wondering if she'd felt it too, if she already missed me the way I missed her. I was pining — longing for her to let me back in, even though I hadn't discussed it with her. I'd made vague statements, usually in past tense, but I hadn't told her outright that I felt us drawing closer and closer to one another again.
If we kept at this, a crash was inevitable and, deep down, I didn't know if I wanted to avoid it or not.
With a sigh, I opened the door to my—no—Astoria's house and was met with silence. There was no exuberant toddler running around and I cast Homenum Revelio. The charm indicated that I was alone.
Frowning, I walked around the lower level looking for a note, but there wasn't one.
While it was strange that Astoria and Scorpius weren't home, I didn't panic; she hadn't told me they'd be staying home all day. Her weakness and dizzy spells had started to subside now that her magic levels had been stabilised by the healers, and I knew she wouldn't travel with Scorpius if she wasn't feeling well. Most likely, she'd headed over to the Manor early to have tea and chat with my mother, figuring I'd just meet them there when I returned.
Wanting to verify my theory, I knelt in front of the Floo and called the Manor. After a few moments, my mother answered.
"Draco! Why are you calling? Just come through."
"It's well over an hour before you were expecting us, so I didn't want to intrude," I said, though honestly I didn't want to be around my father for any longer than absolutely necessary. "Are Astoria and Scorpius already there?"
"Astoria decided to spend the evening with Daphne and her parents. She took Scorpius with her since they haven't seen him in awhile. Just come over and we'll talk properly."
"I'm going to clean up. It was overly warm at some of the properties I saw," I replied, buying myself some time.
"Okay, darling. We'll see you soon," my mother said before disconnecting.
Rising to my feet, I groaned. Without Scorpius, there was no buffer between me and my father. I wanted to postpone the whole evening, but I knew they'd see right through it. It was too late for that anyway; I'd just spoken to my mother and hadn't made any attempt to cancel.
I moved up the stairs and into the bathroom robotically, stripping down to my skin. As I turned the water on, keeping it on the cooler side, my mind jumped to Granger once more. It felt strange that I wasn't seeing her tonight, though I knew this would soon become the norm. I wouldn't be spending every evening in her little house having dinner and watching memories. She was going to hand everything over for me to watch on my own, but something about that felt wrong.
Standing under the shower spray, I wondered how her day had been. Before I'd left last night, she'd told me she was spending the day with Potter and Weasley and their families. I could picture her with Potter's boys, chasing them around a garden and laughing. I knew Weasley and Lovegood had a little girl but I couldn't really picture her in the scene.
Instead, I saw her with Scorpius, pretending to play Quidditch even though she wouldn't be caught dead on a broom. I saw her making toy snitches and his stuffed dragon fly around, a smile on her face whenever she looked at him. And he smiled back at her, even though he was usually more reserved with people he didn't see on a regular basis.
Something about Granger put him at ease and I wondered if he could feel her the same way I did.
More than once, she'd told me that she'd done everything she had for him, to give him the father he deserved.
I believed her now.
Hermione was brilliant in so many ways, but she understood me like no one else ever had. Throughout the course of our relationship, I must have told her how I felt about my father, how he'd disappointed me over and over again by missing the little things like weekend trips or Quidditch matches. All through my childhood, he'd focused on business and then, as soon as Voldemort had returned, he'd turned into someone I couldn't even recognise.
My stomach clenched.
Placing my palms on the tile, I hunched forward and took deep breath after deep breath, inhaling and exhaling slowly in an attempt to calm myself. I needed to sort out everything in my mind.
Now that the anger was gone, what was left?
Last night, I'd admitted to myself that I still loved her — and I supposed that was true.
I replayed the past few days, thinking about the ways she'd let me touch her. She'd wrapped herself in a sweater so I could touch her. It had been permission, a plea for contact, and I'd been all too willing to get closer.
And, even before that, she'd openly said that being around me made her miss me, that she didn't really know what she wanted from me anymore. She didn't know if she wanted to be friends.
At the beginning of all this, she'd been adamant that all we did was hurt each other, but I hadn't seen much of that at all. Yes, there was jealousy on both sides, and I was sure that I'd hurt her every single time I left her on her own, but I'd seen more good than bad.
When she broke down in the Valentine's memory, she admitted to focusing on everything that had been wrong between us, and I wondered if that had coloured her recollection of our relationship. Had she been an unreliable source of information at the beginning?
Had she forgotten things, too?
If so, we were on more even ground than I'd originally thought. And I could understand why she'd distanced herself from those memories and tried to see them in a different light; she'd needed to protect herself, to push her feelings down and push me away.
I was frustrated that we'd gotten ourselves into such a bad place, especially after seeing how happy we'd been together in the past. Now, I wasn't sure we'd ever be able to get that back — even if we reconciled, the memories of the Obliviation and our anger and pain would likely remain, casting a shadow over our lives.
Knowing that I was venturing into dangerous territory, I pushed the thoughts and feelings down — much like I suspected Hermione was doing — and finished my shower. By the time I'd dried and dressed myself, I'd managed to clear my mind, focusing only on the upcoming dinner with my parents. I knew I'd have to fill them in on my new living arrangements and Astoria's health. My mother, at the very least, would likely ask me how things were going with Hermione, and that would create a minefield between my father and me. I knew he'd listen quietly, but he was unpredictable sometimes.
Before I stepped into the Floo, I looked out the window and saw my owl perched in her designated spot. I paused, momentarily thinking about sending Hermione a note. I knew she was at Potter's right now, but I could instruct the owl to go to her house and wait for her return.
Summoning a piece of parchment and a quill I sat at the dining table and debated what to say. Ultimately, I settled on something simple and friendly.
Granger,
I hope you enjoyed your day with the Potters and the Weasleys. If I know you the way I think I do, then I'm sure you had a great time with the kids and will be exhausted tonight.
I found a townhouse to rent for the time being. It's not perfect, but it will give me my own space. There's also plenty of room to spare, so I'm sure Scorpius will enjoy exploring. I'm also thinking of getting a cat. I'm not used to being on my own, but I know I won't be here enough for a dog.
Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow. Just wanted to let you know that I was successful in my mission.
-D.M.
As I watched the owl fly off, my nerves started to kick in. Other than the time I'd cancelled on her, I hadn't sent her any notes or letters since I'd found out about the Obliviation, so I didn't know if she'd be happy about it or not. I carded both of my hands through my still-damp hair and took a deep breath, trying to steady myself before I headed to the Manor.
I hoped that she'd be happy to hear from me.
When I arrived, my mother was waiting for me in the entrance hall. Again, she greeted me warmly, hugging me close in a way she hadn't even when I was a child. It was clear that she was still worried I hadn't forgiven her.
"How was your day?" she asked when she pulled back.
I tried to smile at her, but it fell flat. "It was fine. I saw eight properties and decided to rent one for six months to start."
"Why did you choose a short-term lease?"
"I don't have time to buy right now, but I know I'll want to eventually. I didn't want to be stuck if I found a property I liked," I said, even though money hadn't ever been a concern.
She nodded, accepting my feeble explanation. "That makes sense, I suppose. How much space do you have?"
"Plenty. Four bedrooms and an office. Obviously one will be mine and I'll give one to Scorpius."
"Lots of extra space," she remarked, looking at me pointedly. "Do you have plans for it?"
I knew her mind had instantly flitted to Hermione, to how those other bedrooms could eventually be filled, but I wasn't willing to discuss it with her, especially when I didn't know exactly how I felt.
How Hermione felt.
"Not right now, but it was the best location and suited me well. I figured it was better to have far too much space than too little."
"Always." She smiled at me encouragingly. "I can't wait to see it."
Linking our arms, we started walking towards the dining room.
"How was Paris?" I asked.
"Oh, it was lovely. Never quite long enough of a trip, though. At least your father wasn't working the whole time. We had all of yesterday to just do whatever we liked."
"Well, that must have been a nice change. I remember that you and I spent more time on our own than with him when we went on trips."
She sighed. "We did. And then we had to stop going altogether."
An uncomfortable silence fell between us as we entered the dining room, but she gave me another reassuring smile before we crossed the threshold.
My father was already sitting at the table, a book in hand. He was wearing his reading glasses and had a glass of red wine in front of him. When he heard us approaching, he slid a spare bit of parchment between the pages to mark his place.
His eyes roamed over my Muggle clothing and the messiness of my hair, but he held his tongue. I wasn't sure if my mother had lectured him before my arrival, though I suspected she had.
"Good evening. I'm glad you still wanted to join us, Draco. I thought you might cancel."
I pulled a chair out for my mother and she sank down gracefully.
"Honestly, I considered it, but I'm willing to try to have a cordial dinner if you are."
My mother narrowed her eyes at him, silently conveying a threat. I saw his throat bob, and he tilted his head ever so slightly in response.
"Of course. I think we can manage to sit down for a meal together."
"I wasn't aware it would be a problem for you," I said, raising an eyebrow. "Have I done something to offend you, Father?"
His tongue clicked. "No, no, not at all, Draco. I should have said that I would enjoy your company tonight."
He was so formal, and I knew he was nervous. It was one of his tells, lapsing into the reserved pureblood. Even though I was still angry, I knew I needed to do this for my mother's sake. And Scorpius' — I wanted him to have a family he could depend on and, while Lucius had been a horrible father to me, he doted on my son.
In fact, sometimes I was even jealous of the way he treated Scorpius.
I took the seat beside my mother and looked across the table at my father. The air was filled with awkward silence as she waited for one of us to say something and we couldn't find any words.
"So, Lucius, Draco has found a rental in London with plenty of space," she said, trying to start the conversation with a safe topic.
"Is it connected to the Floo Network already?" he asked.
Shaking my head, I replied, "Not yet, but I can arrange that on Monday."
"If you give me the address, I can owl my contact at the Floo office in the morning. I'm sure he can expedite it for you. You don't want to be Apparating back and forth with Scorpius."
I was tempted to say no, but I knew this was his way of trying to make amends. He wanted to offer help and connections, the way he always had, and I decided to let him. It was a Floo connection, not something nefarious.
"I'd appreciate that, Father. I'm not sure how busy I'll be at work and Astoria has an appointment in the morning, so I'll already be tied up for part of the day."
He nodded. "Not a problem at all. I'll send the owl first thing."
Turning to my mother, I asked, "Did Astoria tell you about her healer appointment?"
"She said that she was feeling better, but not much else," she replied. "Is she recovering?"
"Healer Patil isn't really sure if there's a cure, but it seems that her magic levels are stabilising. They're still low, but they've been performing some kind of counter-curse on her every other day and, even though she's only had three treatments, she's not really draining like she was before," I explained, pausing when one of the kitchen elves entered the dining room with three plated dinners levitating in front of him. He set one before each of us, and I was happy my mother hadn't opted for a meal with multiple courses. "Healer Patil thinks Astoria was really weakened by the night she spent with Flint, like it somehow knew she was being unfaithful."
My father looked deep in thought. "Well, it wouldn't be unprecedented. She carried your child and is still married to you. There aren't any fidelity clauses in the contract, but it's possible that the blood curse somehow recognised that she was physically with someone other than her husband. Magic is a funny thing sometimes." He cleared his throat. "Either way, that won't be a problem for much longer. I was going to give you the divorce paperwork tonight. All you need to do is sign it and file it with the Ministry."
"I'll read through it and then show Astoria in the morning. Shouldn't there have been some discussion about assets? Spousal and child support?" I asked, my mind immediately jumping to the legal side. I wanted everything to be severed properly, leaving no doubt about our marital status, but I also needed it to be fair; despite her faults and everything she'd done, I'd treated her horribly.
"I think Astoria will be more than satisfied. I've opened a vault for her and there will be automatic transfers from the main Malfoy account on a monthly basis," my father stated, taking a sip of his wine. "And I knew you were letting her keep the house, so the deed will be solely in her name after the divorce. I did stipulate that the house would pass to Scorpius in the event of her death, though."
Her death, which might be sooner rather than later, because she'd gotten pregnant to try to draw me back in.
Shaking off the guilt, I simply nodded and said, "That's all fine with me. I was prepared to sign over the majority of my inheritance to her."
"Not necessary," my father said dismissively. "We've got plenty of family funds to keep her comfortable and pay for her care, should the need arise."
My mother interjected. "Enough talk about those things. Let's hear more about Astoria's treatment."
"Well, like I said, she's getting the counter-curse every other day. She's taking potions, as well. One to strengthen her magical core, one to improve free magic levels, and then some more generic, over-the-counter type things like a vitamin booster and something to help her sleep at night." I cut into the slice of roast on my plate, trying to quell my guilt. "They found she was severely malnourished and hadn't been sleeping well."
I felt a hand on my forearm and glanced over at my mother.
"You can't blame yourself for her choices, Draco. She chose—"
"We chose," my father interrupted. "We chose to trap you in a marriage you didn't want, and she ended up worse off for it. We both knew the risks going into it."
Even though I knew my father hated it, I allowed myself to slouch and shrug like I had when I was younger. Somehow, he held back the urge to tell me to sit up straight.
"What I did to her was wrong," I stated. "And then I didn't even notice how ill she was getting because I was focused on Hermione again. I can feel guilty for my behaviour and know it doesn't excuse what she did to bring this on herself."
"Of course you can," my mother replied. "But you can't let the guilt eat at you, Draco. There's plenty you can do to atone for the past. I think you've learned that by now."
And she was right. I'd managed to restore some of the prestige to the family name, and my father had kept his nose clean since the war, save for my Obliviation. My mother had invested Galleons in every charity that reached out after the war and hosted fundraisers in their honour. To this day, she still helped anyone who asked for it.
"I know," I answered.
She looked at me sceptically. "There's something else bothering you. Did something happen with Hermione?"
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I said, "No. Not really. I mean, maybe. It feels like we're friends—"
"You can't just be friends," my father said, drawing my attention. "If she's really your soulmate, it's not possible. I'm sure you're already pining after her with how much time you've been spending in close proximity."
"We've been fine this way for months. We worked together, had conversations—"
He set his fork and knife down. "And you were growing closer and closer until she tried to push you away by changing departments, and then you found the photos, which created a bigger gap. I'm willing to bet you're feeling something for her again now, maybe even stronger than before."
Of course, he was right, but I wouldn't tell him that.
"Have you touched?" my mother asked. "A hug? A hand on the back? Anything?"
I put my elbows on the table and leaned forward, covering my face with my hands.
"I held her hand. The memory — the one where I told her Astoria was pregnant — it was hard. She was crying and I was upset," I began, the words rushing out. "I didn't even think. I just grabbed her hand and she wrapped her free hand around my arm and—"
"Slow down," my mother said, her hand landing on my shoulder blade. "Let's go over this one step at a time."
Inhaling deeply, I sat upright again, my shoulders squared. "All week, we've been getting closer. When she cries, or even when she's just upset and not showing it, I can feel it. It hasn't been that way for me since I found out about the Obliviation."
My father snapped his fingers, summoning the elf back. "Please clear the table. We'll be eating later."
As usual, the elf acted immediately. My mother made eye contact with my father and he continued.
"You're soulmates. Of course you can feel her pain."
I blinked a few times and tried to focus on anything but the way my magic was reacting to that statement. It was sparking and tingling, pulling me towards acceptance. Deciding to ignore what he'd said, I jumped to the next part of the story.
"She was showing me the memory of the night I found out Astoria was pregnant. I was terrible to Astoria and then when I ran to Hermione's afterwards, it was so emotional. I just, I didn't even think. She'd asked me not to touch her skin-to-skin."
"Because she could feel the bond too," my father stated, looking straight at me. "And she doesn't trust herself not to act on it."
He was right — I knew he was right.
"I didn't think. I held her hand and then she held onto me. We didn't let go until we were out of the Pensieve, and we didn't really talk about it afterwards. It was awkward, but not necessarily in a bad way."
"You're both holding back," my mother said, her hand rubbing small circles against my shirt. "Why, Draco?"
"Because I want her to choose," I answered honestly. "I want to be able to choose once I've seen everything. I want this to be what we both want, not as a result of invisible forces pushing us together."
My father stood and circled the table, covering my mother's hand with his. "Draco, you may not really have a choice in the matter."
I slumped forward again covering my face. "I'm not angry anymore, but it can't happen this way."
"Why does it matter how it happens?" my mother asked, her voice low.
Even without seeing her, I could tell she was looking up at my father, silently communicating with him.
"There's so much between us. I don't want her to resent me."
"Do you resent her for what she did?" my father asked.
I thought for a few seconds before answering the question, my memories of the past few weeks playing. I saw her with Blaise, I saw her crying, I saw her with Scorpius. I saw her watching the memories, tears streaming down her face, and how she'd held things back from me in the past. I could read her so well now, but I'd been blind to all of it back then. She'd chosen me over and over again, and I'd been the one who hadn't communicated with her openly and honestly.
Even if I'd thought I was choosing her, I wasn't. Not really. Not in the way that mattered.
"No, I don't. I understand why she thought she had no other choice."
"Then why do you think she'd resent you?" my mother asked, squeezing my shoulder.
I turned to face her. "Why wouldn't she? She tried to end things with me several times and I didn't let her, but I also didn't see the solicitor about a divorce until almost a year into our affair. And she didn't believe me when I told her I was trying to find a way to leave Astoria."
"Well, I'm sure that she was happy to find out you had been serious about your relationship," my mother said.
"When I told her about the paperwork you gave me, she fell apart. She realised that all of this — the Obliviation, the pain, the lies — they all could've been avoided."
"Paperwork?" my father asked. "What paperwork?"
"Your solicitor had found a loophole in the marriage contract," I told him. "But not until after Hermione had taken the memories."
Embarrassed and surprised, my father cleared his throat. "Draco, I'm more than willing to accept responsibility for all of this. You know that."
"But I was the one who kept secrets and avoided the truth. I should've told her I was trying, at the very least."
"Do you really think she won't forgive you? It seems like you're well on your way to a reconciliation," my mother said cautiously. "And she loves you. She never stopped loving you."
Hope and pain bloomed within my chest in equal measure. I didn't know if I wanted that statement to be true or not.
Slowly, I shrugged her hand off and stood, turning to face both my parents. "I want to see the rest of the memories, and I want her to choose. I want her to put herself first because, from what I can see in the memories, she never did."
My mother made eye contact with me. "Well, have you considered that she wants you to do the same? You didn't get a choice when things ended. She probably isn't sure if you're willing to forgive her."
Nodding in agreement, my father added, "She's right, Draco. You're likely going to have to tell her how you feel."
Even thinking about having that discussion made me squirm; I didn't know if I could be that open and honest with her. I didn't know if I could put myself out there when it was likely she would always focus on the ways I'd hurt her or she'd hurt me. Instead of focusing on myself, I deflected.
"What about Scorpius?"
My father cocked his head. "What about him?"
"Granger — Hermione — don't you think it would be hard for her to be around him?"
This question was ridiculous; I already knew that she treated Scorpius the same way she treated Potter and Pansy's children. She was playful and loving and fun.
Standing, my mother replied, "Not a chance. She will love him just as much as she loves you. She doesn't blame him for everything that happened."
I looked at her questioningly. "Where are you going?"
"You should be talking to Hermione, not to us. She's the only one who can really give you the answers you're looking for. Go see her."
Her fingers still linked with my father's, she started walking towards the door. I followed in their wake, observing their easy, open affection. When I'd woken up after the Obliviation, I remembered thinking that I'd had a love like that, the kind that my parents had. It was lasting and forgiving, and when they were together, it was almost like there was no one else in the world. They were attuned to each other and, even when they fought or my father inevitably did something stupid to piss her off, they always found their way back to where they'd started.
They were soulmates.
I remembered how broken my mother had been when he was in Azkaban, the way she'd stopped eating and sleeping properly. She would go days without speaking to anyone or touching anyone.
It was possible that she understood Hermione better than I did and, if that was true, she wouldn't steer me wrong.
Author's Note: I know this was a bit short, but Draco needed to talk to someone before the next chapter could happen! I've finally worked my way through the point I was stuck at, so I'm hoping that we'll be able to resume weekly updates by the end of July.
The next chapter will post on July 3rd.
As always, thank you so much for reading!