Relationship Tags: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Theo Nott/Luna Lovegood
Story Tags: Horcruxes, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Pining Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Hogwarts, Eye Contact, Anxiety Attacks, Sexual Tension, Explicit Sexual Content, POV Hermione Granger, Romance, Past Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Eventual Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Endgame Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Jealousy, Panic Attacks, Post-War, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Background Relationships, Smoking, Alcohol
Author's Note: This story will update every Saturday, unless otherwise noted. For more information regarding MSTM, be sure to follow my socials:
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September 1996
Draco sits at the small wooden table in the Ancient Runes classroom twirling his quill between his slender fingers, barely paying any attention to Professor Babbling. It's the first day of classes of his sixth year, and he would rather be anywhere than at Hogwarts. He tries to ignore the intense burning he feels on his left forearm- the reason why he wishes he was anywhere else but here, yet also the reason why this is the safest place for him to be at the moment.
"...and last but not least, Malfoy and Granger." Draco's head shoots straight up, now fully focused on his professor. "Now that you all know your partners for the term, please change your seats so that you are sitting together. This translation project will take up much of your free time, so I suggest you get comfortable with your partners quickly, you'll be spending a lot of time together," Professor Babbling concludes.
No, Draco thinks, this cannot possibly be happening to me right now. Theodore Nott stands up from his seat next to Draco, throwing him a knowing smirk before heading over to the table where his partner sat. This is the last fucking thing I need to deal with this year, he groans internally. He glances over and sees her walking towards him, eyes intently set on him. He holds her gaze, feeling his throat tighten the closer she gets. She stops at the stool next to him, not sitting down. She continues to stare at him, the look on her face daring him to say something negative about their new partnership.
"Granger," he says, dipping his head slightly. "Aren't you going to have a seat, partner?" he asks her in a lilting voice.
Letting out a small huff, she sits down and loudly slams her books onto the table. "Well, this is sure to be an interesting term, isn't it?" she sarcastically asks, while flipping her chocolate curls over her shoulder. The action sends an aroma of fresh gardenias directly into Draco's face. He deeply inhales as quietly as he can, closing his eyes. Oh sweet Salazar, he thinks, there is no way I'm going to survive this. He chances another look at her, and can't help but think how absolutely beautiful she looks, even when she's irritated at the idea of being forced to work with him.
July 2001
Draco startles awake and frantically looks around at his surroundings. He's in the London flat that the Malfoy family owns, not back in Hogwarts. He falls back onto the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes as he lets out a low groan. Just a dream, he thinks, a memory of a life I can never have again.
He arrived back in London the previous night from his horcrux hunt. Not wanting to go back to Malfoy Manor, he decided to take up residence in the family flat. No one has lived here in decades, and that was perfectly fine with him. His desire to separate from his life at the manor was strong enough to lead him here.
Glancing out his window, he notices that the sun is coming up above the buildings across the street. Potter and the others will be expecting him soon. The thought makes his stomach clench. This will be his first time seeing her since his trial three years ago. How will their reunion be? Will she be happy to see him again? No, he thinks, she hasn't felt anything for you since sixth year, when you betrayed her trust. She's most likely with Weasley now, the damned lucky bastard.
With one last groan, he slowly makes his way out of bed and to the shower. Let's not delay the inevitable. While he waits for the water to warm, he observes himself in the mirror. Dark, purple bags have formed under his eyes, thanks to the stress of the last three years and the little bit of sleep he managed to obtain while out on the hunt. His hair is the longest it has ever been, slightly curling at the ends. However, what stands out the most is the glaringly dark ink sitting in his left forearm. It may not have burned again in the last three years, but it is still just as dark and grotesque as it was the day he received it. After a few moments of glaring at the reflection of the visible display of his decision to join the wrong side, he wrenches himself away from the mirror and into the scalding waters of the shower, hoping to burn away the shame he feels.
Draco walks down the narrow cobblestone road as he makes his way to the safehouse where the Order is waiting for him. He could have apparated there, but walking gives him more time to prepare himself. The closer he gets, the faster his heart starts to beat. His breath starts to hitch, hands start to slightly shake. He comes to the end of the street and can feel the magic ripple as he steps into the protected space of the home. Draco looks at the quaint little house and takes a deep breath, inhaling the tantalizing scent he hasn't breathed in for years. What he doesn't expect is to be instantly transported back into a memory the moment he takes that breath.
His nose is buried in her luscious hair, attempting to drown himself in her scent. With one hand on her waist and the other wrapped around her curls, he pulls her closer to him. There can be no space between them, he needs them to meld together as one. He lets out a soft moan when he feels her lips caressing his skin, her hands at the nape of his neck. Draco gently pulls on the curls he has in his hand. She takes the hint and moves her head back to look at him. The warmth of her caramel eyes meets the iciness of his gray ones. They hold each other's gaze for a moment before Draco leans in, tenderly bringing his mouth to hers. He kisses her as if she is the only source of oxygen left in the world. Lips dancing together, tongues meeting in velvet bliss.
She breaks away from him, eyes closed, breaths coming quickly. This doesn't deter him though. He moves down to her throat, savoring the way she tastes.
"Draco," she whispers breathlessly.
"Hmmm," he responds, not ceasing the heavenly assault on her neck.
"Draco, I lo-"
The loud screeching of a stray cat snaps him out of his memory. He looks at the house again and notices the barrage of gardenia bushes that infiltrate the front yard. Of course there would be gardenias here. Just what he needs, even more reminders of her. Any attempt he makes to calm his nerves are unsuccessful. He's tempted to occlude, but decides against it; that's not how he wants to see her again. Nerves standing at full attention, it is then.
Draco climbs the small stone steps that lead to the welcoming blue of the front door. Mustering as much strength as he can, he makes his presence known with two sharp raps. After only a moment, the door opens, revealing a shaggy head of dark hair.
"Malfoy," the wizard says shortly.
"Potter," Draco replies in the same tone.
"Come in, everyone is in the dining room," Harry opens the door further and steps aside, allowing him room to walk through.
Harry leads him into the dining room, and Draco takes note on who is sitting around the table. Minerva McGonagall. Kingsley Shacklebolt. Fleur Delacour. Neville Longbottom. Luna Lovegood. Dean Thomas. Seamus Finnegan. Theodore Nott. Six of the remaining Weasleys. And then her: Hermione Granger.
As fast as his heart was beating only minutes ago, Draco swears it stops altogether when he sees her. Her hair is longer than it was before, and if possible, even curlier. He takes in the way she is sitting, straight backed and proper, just like she did in classes. Her delicate fingers are firmly grasping the mug in her hand. Her eyes are pointedly staring at the piping tea inside of it. He wills her to look at him, but her focus is resolute. While she refuses to look at him, he notices that everyone else refuses to look away from him.
He can feel the skepticism that rolls off at least half of them. Neville, Dean, and Seamus all have their brows slightly furrowed, unsure of him. McGonagall appears to have a difficult time keeping her gaze on him - trying to connect the synapses of the young boy she first knew, to the Death Eater he became, to the man he now is today. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley both attempt welcoming expressions, but they come out more like grimaces. Fleur's look is what catches Draco's attention the most, though. She doesn't look at him with any contempt or disdain - no, she beholds him with the briefest traces of a smile tinged with melancholy. Curious.
"Nott, this is a surprise. Can't say that I expected to see you here," Draco addresses the one person in the room with whom he feels comfortable. Draco misses the brief glance Hermione makes his way at hearing the sound of his voice.
"What, and let you be the only Slytherin-turned-Order-member to take all the glory? No way," Theo responds, smirking and leaning back in his chair with his arms resting behind his head. An uncomfortable silence settles in the air.
"Mr. Malfoy, I appreciate your swiftness in returning to England. Please, have a seat," Kingsely says, interrupting the silence.
"Of course, Minister. Thank you," Draco responds as he lowers himself into the empty chair next to his old friend, which puts him directly across from Hermione. Theo gives him an encouraging smile, knowing how uncomfortable he must feel here.
Kingsley continues on, "As Harry has informed you, there have been new developments. Last week there was an attack on a small muggle town. Aurors arrived as soon as we got word of the invasion, but by that time most of her followers had fled."
Kingsley pauses his speech and drops his eyes to the pile of papers splayed in front of him on the table. He shuffles through the top sheets until he finds the correct one. He meets Draco's eyes once more, and continues on saying, "One of the attackers was overheard saying, and I quote," there is another pause in his dialogue, while he looks down to read straight from the paper, "'Bellatrix is going to be pleased with us for this one. Just wait until we tell her. What a lovely welcome back gift this will be for her.'"
Draco's icy stare sharpens even more as Kingsley rearranges his papers, once again, before looking back to him. They share an intense gaze, their fury at the situation reaching new heights.
Kingsley breaks the tension, "It appears that she has successfully been brought back to life."
If possible, the silence is even more deafening now. No one knows what to say. Most of the Order members not knowing if they can actually trust Draco to help them, knowing it's his own aunt they're after. Kingsley is, once again, the person to break the silence.
"I'd like to bring you up to date on what has been happening here while you've been gone on your horcrux hunt," he starts. "We ha-" He is abruptly cut off by Ron Weasley.
"No. You can't just jump in and tell him everything. Not when we don't know much of anything about what he's been up to for the past three years. We've barely received any intell from him!" Ron's voice increases in volume with every word.
"Ron.." Hermione begins softly, trying to calm him down.
"No, Hermione. I know that you lot had your own little secrets during the war that none of us were allowed to be privy to, and that you trusted him enough to have spoken in his defense at his trial, but I don't care. I still don't trust him," he glares at her in response. She lowers her gaze back down to her mug, not saying anything more. Something feral stirs deep within Draco at this interaction.
Turning his accusing eyes towards Draco, Ron leans across the table towards him and continues in a low, stony voice, "I want to know exactly what you have been up to for the past three years. It's just a tad suspicious that after all of this time, we have heard naught from you."
Draco stares back, his jaw set tightly, not wanting to grace the weasel with the gratification of his response. Be that as it may, he knows that his refusal to speak with him will only create more of a divide between him and those who are wary of him. He looks to Kingsley for guidance.
"Ron, we have in fact been receiving intel from Mr. Malfoy for the entirety of the last three years. This information was delivered on a need to know basis, and not everyone has the clearance needed to be a part of that," Kingsley's deep voice rings through the room.
Ginny's fiery red hair whips over her shoulders as her head sharply turns to look at the minister, not happy with this revelation. A few other heads follow in his direction as well, not everyone is aware of this information.
"So, what, we're supposed to just sit here and accept the fact that Malfoy has been helping us with absolutely no tangible proof? And we're just now learning that you've actually known what he's been doing this whole time? I'm sorry, but for us, it's been three years of radio silence, and you know that we've all been questioning his intentions and actions, and you've had the information this entire time. Why not give us at least a sliver of information that would help ease our distrust? What does that tell us about you?" Ginny rattles off at him, not caring that she was speaking to a man of such political importance in this way.
At her tirade, frustrated murmurs break out across the dining table. Ron immediately agrees with his sister, his face lighting up with his animated irritation at the situation, while his best friend's head drops into his hands. Seamus joins in with Ron, his Irish accent coming in thick with anger. Luna twirls a long blonde curl around her finger; her wide blue eyes move from Ron to Draco, where they settle with an inquisitive, yet knowing look.
Draco feels a light nudge against his foot, and turns to see Theo looking at him. Dark curls fall over his green eyes, as he gives a small yet encouraging smile.
"It'll get better, Draco. They just need to get used to you being around and on their side. They gave me quite the similar treatment."
With a shaky breath, Draco runs his hand through his hair as he leans his elbow against the table.
"Yeah, but you're not branded like I am. There's a lot more I need to be forgiven for than you had."
In lieu of a verbal response, Theo grabs his shoulder and gives him a tender, brotherly squeeze.
Lifting his head up out of his hands, Harry turns to Kingsely and shouts over the ever-increasing noise, "Kingsley, this conversation is never going to get anywhere unless we fill them in." Harry's expression is weathered, and Draco notices just how much the past three years have aged him. No longer is he the spry, Chosen One who jumped at the chance of being the first one out in the field. Now, his eyes carry the weight of a lifetime. A life that has already lived through one war, and is now living through a second one. That's two wars too many for someone only twenty-two years of age.
With this comment, two heads of flaming red hair now whip their way to turn and glare at Harry, both with accusing - yet also deeply hurt - eyes.
"Yes, I suppose you're right, Potter," Shacklebolt agrees with a sigh, and begins to relay the information, only to be interrupted by Ron for the second time.
"No, I don't want to hear it from you. I want to hear it from him."
"I've been hunting and destroying horcruxes," Draco replies with a drip of sarcasm in his voice, slightly tilting his head, one brow raised. Maybe not the most dignified way to respond, but he can't help himself.
"So you say. Are we supposed to just take you for your word? I'm not too sure I trust the words of a Death Eater," Ron quips back. A few sharp intakes of breath are heard throughout the room.
"Ronald!" Hermione breathes out, exasperated. "This is not going to help anything." Ron ignores her, continuing to glare at the man across from him.
"I believe you mean ex-Death Eater. I was pardoned for that, due to the help and information I provided your side during the war, as you are very well familiar with seeing as your wife's testimony was key in that ruling," Draco spits out, the word wife almost getting caught in his throat.
The tension in the room increases tenfold as a flash of anguish flickers across Ron's eyes. Ron clenches both hands atop the table, then releases them as he responds with a low, strained voice, "She's not my wife."
Draco's brow shoots up again, not expecting that answer. His heart dares to hope that there's a chance for him. That is until he sees Hermione gently place her hand over Ron's. At first it looks like he's going to brush her hand off of his, but then he turns it over, palm up and interlocks his fingers with hers. His temper calms down with her touch. Draco's heart plummets.
No longer having the desire to verbally spar with Ron, Draco reaches into his pocket and retrieves the three destroyed horcruxes. He silently places the medallion, the ring, and the dagger in the middle of the table. All eyes are on the objects, but Ron is the one who is closely scrutinizing them.
"How do we know that these were actually the horcruxes?" he inquires.
This time it's Harry who seems to be done with Ron's behavior. "Oh come off it, Ron. You know what a destroyed horcrux looks like, you've destroyed one yourself. These are quite obviously what he says they are. Can we move on from this now?" Harry gives him a look that tells him to stop being on the offensive. Ron gives one sharp nod of his head in response to Harry.
"Good, now that we have that all cleared up, back to what I was saying, Mr. Malfoy," Kingsley starts to continue on.
"Actually, Minister," Hermione quietly interrupts, "before you continue, I'd like to hear a little more about these horcruxes. I think the more information we know about them, the better equipped we'll be when it comes to finding the others. That is, if Malfoy doesn't mind telling us."
With this, she finally looks over to meet his eyes. He holds her gaze as long as he can, remembering all the times they looked into each other's eyes with nothing but love. But that's not what's happening now. At least, not for her. Draco doesn't think he will ever be able to look at her without his love pouring through.
Before he can answer her, he looks at Kingsley with raised brows, questioning if he should share this much information with everyone present. Kingsley gives his approval with an almost imperceptible nod of the head.
"Of course, Granger," he says softly. He swears he sees her breath hitch at the use of her surname, but her face shows no sign of being affected by it. He must have imagined what he wanted to see. To her side, a quick look of perplexion crosses Ron's face. He probably doesn't understand how she could want to converse with a "Death Eater like me," he thinks with a roll of his eyes. Draco tells them what he can about the horcruxes.
"The dagger was a wedding gift given to my aunt by her husband. The medallion is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight medallions, the one belonging to the Lestrange family. The ring belonged to my Aunt Andromeda, and was part of a matching set that all three sisters shared. All of these items held some sort of significance to her. This leads me to believe that the rings belonging to my mother and Bellatrix herself, as well as the Black family medallion, are three of the four remaining horcruxes that we are looking for."
"Do you have any idea what the seventh horcrux might be?" asked Neville, speaking for the first time. Draco is drawn to the long scar that cuts through his brow, a memento from the battle.
"No, unfortunately I do not," Draco replies. A scoff from Ron is heard at this response; a scoff which everyone chooses to ignore. "I do, however, have an idea on where to find the rest of them." Everyone perks up at this, sitting up straighter in their chairs, eyes on Draco, and the air of skepticism slowly fading away.
"When I first came to you, I told you of my suspicions that she was plotting some type of world domination. That seems to be holding some truth. The medallion was the first one I found and it was in Victoria Falls. I then found the ring in the Great Wall of China. First Africa, then Asia; leaving one horcrux in each continent. I then made my way down to Antarctica, and alas, there was the dagger. Hidden down in Blood Falls."
"Blood Falls? Of course, the crazy fucking bitch," Seamus muttered to himself. Draco chuckled, having thought the same thing himself.
"Going off of this information," Draco continues, "I believe the others will be found in the Americas, Australia, and here in Europe. Does that information suffice, Granger?" he looks at her again, unable to help himself from addressing her directly.
"Yes, thank you," she says with a small smile at him. His chest tightens at the smile, heart beating just a touch harder. The right side of his mouth slightly turns up in a small of his own, before remembering where they are and who all is there. He quickly drops the smile, and pulls his gaze away from her, looking at the others seated around the table.
"May I finally continue what I was saying?" the minister asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Oh yes, of course, Minister, sorry," Hermione says, slightly embarrassed at the fact she hijacked Shacklebolt's plan of action.
"No apologies needed, Ms. Granger. I have long since learned my lesson of not getting in your way when you set your mind to something," he says with a friendly wink in her direction.
A light blush spreads across her cheeks as she chuckles softly, knowing she can't deny it. Draco's eyes are fixated on the way the blush brightens everything about her- her skin, her eyes, her very essence of being. It's as if the sun has left its place in the cosmos and came to dwell in that dining room with them, its sole purpose to illuminate the woman across from him. Merlin, how is it possible that she is even more beautiful than I remember? Kingsley's deep voice drags Draco out of his thoughts.
"Now that Bellatrix is back, we need to slightly shift our focus. She is too unhinged and dangerous for us to be going into this blindly. Which is why we need you here, Malfoy. You know her best, what her tactics are, and we need your insight."
"What about the other horcruxes? There are still four out there. Keeping me here to help defeat her means nothing if those horcruxes are still out there. That's what I should be doing," Draco counters forcefully.
"I am well aware of that, which is why I will be sending out a team to continue that search. Neville, Dean, and Seamus have volunteered to go and a small team of Aurors will be joining them," Kingsley answers. "I really do believe that you will be of better use to us here now that there are active attacks."
Draco scoffs faintly at Kingsley's choice of words. Of course, that's all I am to them, something for them to "use." He feels a light kick against the side of his leg, and looks over at Theo. He gives Draco a pointed look, telling him to just go with it, to not let it get to him. Theo understands, though. No matter what Draco does, some will only ever see him as a Death Eater who couldn't even succeed at that. They will only ever look at him as something to use and garner information from, with no regard to his needs or wants.
While the two Slytherins have their silent conversation, Ron leans over to Harry and quietly says, "Yeah, and maybe they'll actually be able to quicken the pace a bit. Three years in and only three horcruxes found and destroyed? Come on, now. We destroyed that many and it only took us nine months. Well, I guess technically four horcruxes if we count you," Ron chortles at the end.
"Yeah, but let's not forget I had the disturbing advantage of Voldemort's thoughts infiltrating my mind. We wouldn't have been nearly that quick about it without that," Harry responds sharply. "What has gotten into you? Quit acting like such a prat. He's here, he's helping us."
Ron grumbles his response, which sounds very much like, "Yeah, I know, you're right… sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."
Kingsley continues to discuss his plans, and Draco attempts to keep his full attention on him, he really does. Nonetheless, his eyes can't help but to continuously wander over to her. He wants - no - he needs to rediscover everything he can about her. Three years is too long, so much can change in that amount of time. It's been even longer than that, though, since they were last together–really together. Three years ago was his trial. They hadn't been together like that since much before that.
His eyes trail along every curl, memorizing each twist and turn. He counts each freckle splashed across her nose and cheeks. As much as he wants to ignore it, he can't stop himself from glancing at her hand on the table, her fingers still intertwined with Weasley's. Draco feels his own hands slowly closing into fists, his nails digging into his palms. The slight pinpricks of pain he feels as his nail breaks the skin pale in comparison to the pain he feels in his heart. Those should be my fingers laced with hers, not the fucking weasel's.
Hermione must feel his gaze on her, as her eyes quickly flicker to Draco. He pulls his eyes away from her hand just in time to meet her look. For just a moment, ice meets warmth. For just a moment, they're back in Hogwarts. But that moment vanishes just as rapidly as it appears. She pulls her eyes away from him, but Draco keeps his eyes on her. She glances at Ron, then at their joined hands, and briefly back to Draco. She starts to disentangle her fingers, but the movement causes Ron to look at her. He gives her a warm smile, gently squeezing her hand before holding on more tightly, refusing to let go. She gives him a small smile in return, one that doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"So as long as we're all in agreement, Potter and Malfoy will take the lead on the local field work, for both any attacks and searching for the horcrux that we believe to be here in Europe," Kingsley wraps up his speech, drawing Draco's attention away from Hermione.
Almost everyone sitting around the table quietly nods their heads in agreement. Draco looks over at Harry, curious about the Chosen One's reaction to working so closely together. Harry, never one to be able to hide his emotions, has a surprisingly serene expression on his face; Draco was sure he would find apprehension. Harry questioningly quirks one eyebrow towards Draco, who in return gives a single nod.
"Yes, Kingsley, I believe we are in agreement," Harry responds.
"Well then," Molly Weasley pipes in, "now that we have that business taken care of, let's have some lunch, shall we? Hermione, I believe those shepherd pies are just about done." Molly starts to make her way into the kitchen, Hermione following behind. A moment later Molly's voice is heard shouting from the other room, "About fifteen more minutes, everyone!"
At this, multiple conversations break out around the table, ranging anywhere from the latest Quidditch stats to the most mundane of topics. Neville, Seamus, and Dean are conversing about the latest Chudley Cannons game. Luna talks to Ginny and George about the latest magical creature to which her father has introduced her. Shacklebolt, McGonagall, and Arthur discuss how things are progressing at Hogwarts. Bill and Fleur have a quiet conversation that is meant only for the two of them.
Draco takes this as an opportunity to slyly study everyone, while under the guise of conducting a conversation with Theo. He slowly traces the rim of his glass with his finger, eyes on Theo, but ears tuning into every other conversation. It's hard to remember that it was only a few years ago that he sat in classes with some of them. Everyone holds themselves differently now, the war having aged and matured them faster than they should have been.
Hermione glides back into the dining room, carrying a large serving dish with others charmed to float in behind her. Draco's eyes follow her as she places them onto the table and makes her way back into the kitchen again. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Theo cross his arms and hears him let out a low sigh before leaning towards Draco.
"You can't go there, Draco," Theo warns him.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he responds coolly.
"Granger. You can't go there again."
Silver eyes harden, jaw sets in a hard line. He thinks about denying it, but Theo knows him too well for him to be successful with that. He's the only one who knew about their clandestine relationship at school. The only one who knew how it absolutely destroyed him when things between them had to end.
"Draco, I'm serious. She's with Weasley now, you can't."
"She hasn't married him," is the only response Draco can give, in a voice so low Theo barely hears him.
"Draco…" Theo sighs, slightly shaking his head. "There's more to this than you know."
"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean? It's been years, if this was serious they would be married by now," Draco counters, an edge of desperation tainting his voice. "I can't be around her and pretend that there's nothing there anymore. I simply can't."
"You have to," Theo grinds out through clenched teeth.
"Why?" Draco challenges in the same tone.
Before Theo can say anything in return, Hermione walks into the room again just as a melodic chime rings throughout the house.
"I'll go," Ron says, standing up from his seat. Hermione walks behind him and places a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back into his seat.
"No, I've got it," she smiles at him, and then heads up the stairs.
Draco looks at Theo, waiting for him to answer his question. Theo just stares at him and nods his head towards the stairs that Hermione disappeared up. Knowing Theo won't say anything more, Draco turns to look at the stairs, waiting for her to make her way back down. When she appears a few minutes later, his mind goes completely blank. His mouth silently drops open. Any lively sense of hope his eyes previously held is poisoned, leaving a hollowness behind. His already broken heart shatters into a million more pieces.
Hermione walks down the stairs with a young girl in her arms. A young girl who has Hermione's smile, her slightly upturned nose, her constellation of freckles across her cheeks, and her riotous curls. Only, the curls are not the same angelic shade of chocolate brown as hers. No, they are an unsettling shade of red. Weasley red.
"There's my beautiful girl!" Ron exclaims lovingly, his mouth stretching into the brightest smile Draco's ever seen on him. He reaches out and takes her from Hermione, cradling the child close to his chest as she giggles and nuzzles her head into him.
"That's why," Theo hisses.
Author's Note: As always, huge thanks to my creative team.
Alphas: Katie, Cort, & FoxgloveWrites
Betas: MarauderMandy & Hana
