June 22, 2002
In the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place, Hermione toyed with the edges of the, now, well read letter. She didn't really need the physical copy, having memorized it through multiple readings.
Ginny and Harry sat in front of her patiently. She'd arrived early for their Saturday night Leaky Cauldron get together. She was so confused and unsettled by the letter she received that she needed to share it with someone.
"Okay, I don't normally like to ask for emotional support, but I received this letter and it really freaked me out," Hermione began, making nervous eye contact with each of them.
One of the best things about the Potters was their steady support. Both Harry and Ginny were very good at setting aside personal emotions to provide guidance and understanding. Hermione was forever thankful to have them in her life.
"Honestly, I feel a little guilty sharing this with you. It clearly was personal, and meant only for me. Even though I know you wouldn't, I feel I have to ask, on his behalf, that you don't tell anyone, not even Ron, about what I'm about to show you." Hermione closed her eyes and swiftly slid the letter to them.
Silence filled the kitchen as Harry and Ginny held the letter between them and read it.
Ginny must have finished it first, as she looked up at Hermione with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. Harry followed soon after and removed his glasses to scrub his face with his hand.
"Wow," Ginny muttered. Harry looked at his wife and shook his head in disbelief.
"So that's what he gave you after dinner?" Harry nodded to himself as the pieces fell into place. Hermione was so nervous she feared her voice would fail, so she gave him a terse nod.
"Hermione, are you okay? This is-" Ginny paused, searching for the words, "a lot." Hermione shrugged, she really still wasn't sure how she felt about the letter.
"I've read it so many times, I think he's being sincere," her tone was uncertain. She trailed off as she glanced back at Harry, who'd picked up the letter and was reading through it again.
"Yeah, I've just never heard Malfoy self-reflect, let alone, apologize," Harry said, eyes still glued to the paper.
Hermione sighed and pulled a curl between her fingers. She wasn't expecting them to have answers, and she knew they'd probably be as confused and perplexed by his letter as she was, but she hoped that somehow they'd know what to do.
"I always thought he looked away because he could care less," she spoke in a quiet voice, reverant.
"What?" Harry asked her, replacing his glasses on his face.
"When Bellatrix crucio'd me and carved 'mudblood' into my arm," her emotionless tone made them wince, "I thought he didn't look because he wasn't affected, or because I disgusted him so much he didn't want to see my dirty blood."
"Don't say that," Ginny chastised. Her face was noticeably unsettled, mirroring Hermoine's own confusion upon reading the letter.
"I'm not saying I agree, I'm saying that's what I had thought." Hermione wasn't arguing, just letting Ginny know.
"What does it matter what his intentions for his inaction were, Hermione? He still let you get tortured and cursed, I don't particularly care if he feels guilty, he should." Harry's voice was uncharacteristically angry. If Harry was ever angry about the war, it usually made him shut down and get quiet, dejected. This was rage.
"Malfoy let that happen to you! I don't give a flying fuck if he has 'self-reflected' and decided his actions were wrong. He can't ever take away that trauma, Hermione you have a slur carved into your arm," his voice only gained volume as he spoke. His arms waving furiously.
"Harry, go take a breath. You're yelling at Hermione out of your anger at Malfoy. She received this letter, and if you're this triggered by it imagine how she feels." Ginny shut her husband down. At her chastising, Harry's eyes seemed to clear and he looked at Hermione with an expression of pure guilt.
"It's okay, Harry, I get it," Hermione brushed him off. He stood up and went to the bathroom, to get some space and calm down.
"Did it trigger an episode?" Ginny's voice was without judgment, almost as clinical as Willow's.
"No, but I couldn't sleep all night. When I close my eyes I can't stop thinking about the letter, reading it, playing out that day in the drawing room and trying to reconcile this new information with the memory." She lifted the tea Ginny made her to her lips, taking an absentminded sip.
"Okay, I'm really glad you came to us, what do you make of this," Ginny gestured at the letter before she slid it back toward Hermione. She took care folding it, putting it back in her bag.
"I am inclined to believe him, but I still can't help but feel so uncertain around him, it's like he may turn on me any moment. I guess, I'll have to wait and see like with Pansy." Hermione shrugged.
Ginny shook her head, "I know what you mean, but be careful. Pansy was a bitch in school, no need to defend her, I've told her as much, but she was never an outright Death Eater."
Hermione mulled over her words, "I guess you're right, but I never really knew much about how Malfoy became a Death Eater, and we know he never killed anyone or ever cast an unforgivable, they proved it at his trial."
Ginny shrugged, "I'm not saying you have to hate the guy, but, please be careful. Hermione, you're hanging by a thin thread and I will not allow Draco Malfoy to destroy everything you worked for. If he really is a changed man, that is yet to be seen."
Ginny's words should have hurt Hermione's feelings, but she knew they were accurate. Ginny was not one to mince words to spare emotions, she spoke the truth. Hermione was an anxious wreck, and though her professional life was well on track, her personal life was a mess.
Hermione could barely function when she was left alone after the war. Everyone else had somebody. She'd been with Ron for a few months after their kiss in the Chamber of Secrets, but they quickly realized they weren't compatible. He wanted to settle down too soon, she wanted a career. Their interests were too varied, their only common ground was shared memories and Harry. That was enough for a friendship, but not a relationship.
She'd been suffering in silence and the therapy helped, but she still felt horrible when she was left alone too long. She had to be constantly doing things or she would fall into a deep hole of racing thoughts and intrusive memories.
"You're right. I want to give him a chance, that's the whole point of our new department, but I am not going to let my guard down, I'll let him show me who he is." Hermione spoke decidedly as Harry reentered the kitchen. His cheeks were pink and a few water droplets rolled down his face.
"Okay, I have calmed down and I owe you a major apology," Harry sat opposite Hermione and held her gaze intently, "I should not have reacted so viscerally, especially considering how confusing and upsetting this letter had to have been for you. I am here for you and I want you to know you can come to me for things."
Hermione cracked a small smile and reached across the table to grab his hand, "It's okay Harry, you felt protective. After the way Malfoy treated us all, you have every right not to trust him." She paused for a moment and continued with a more purposeful look.
"You and I were on the run, alone, for awhile there. I think we will both always have a pretty strong protective reflex for each other." Hermione squeezed his hand before releasing it.
There was a comfortable silence, Ginny grabbed both of their hands and tapped them lightly against the table before standing abruptly.
"Not to cut this short, but we should head out," Ginny pointed at the hanging clock.
The Leaky Cauldron was boisterous and tinged an orange glow. The sun had already set and all the light was provided by candle-laden chandeliers.
There were two long tables pushed together. Ron and Padma, they married about a year ago, sat at one end with Dean Thomas, Luna, and Susan Bones. Harry, Ginny, Hermoine and Pansy sat at the other. George and Angelina were yet to arrive
Conversation spiderwebbed across the big group, Hermione asked Luna about The Quibbler and her most recent artistic venture: pottery. Pansy kept incessantly asking Susan questions, not allowing her focus to drift. Ron and Dean were arguing about what the height parameters should be on Ron's quidditch starter kit for kids, that would debut in the shop soon. Harry and Ginny answered Padma's questions about new parenthood, which was setting off everyone's subconscious interest and suspicion about the semi-newlyweds.
"So, Hermione, I heard you're working with Draco Malfoy, is this true?" Luna's lilting voice brought forth the one subject Hermione hoped to avoid.
Wincing Hermione answered, "Yes, we are co-heads of the new Office of Magical Rehabilitation and Probation."
The whole of each conversation came to a stuttering halt. Wide eyes of those who were not aware: Ron, Padma, Dean, and the horribly curious knowing ones of those who were: Ginny, Harry, Pansy, and Susan-which shocked her, but shouldn't have because she working as the assistant to Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt-turned to face her.
It was at that moment that Angelina and George approached the table and slid in next to her.
"I know my presence is utterly distracting and downright dumfounding, but I am inclined to believe that my sheer handsomeness alone has not stunned this group into silence." George's words penetrated the palpable anticipation.
Susan giggled, Ginny huffed in disbelief, and Angelina swatted him unceremoniously, earning a toothy grin.
"Though you are handsome, George, we were waiting for Hermione to appraise us of her work with Malfoy so far. Hermione would you continue?" Luna's dreamy words clearly took George at face value and put Hermione right back in the hot seat.
Hermione never took offense at Luna's words. She'd confided in her that she was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder. Luna hadn't been nervous when she told her, it was a statement of fact. She'd expressed that the diagnosis helped her put into context people's reactions to her sometimes shockingly truthful statements.
The admission had come after Hermione had gone on a rant about the treatment of werewolves in wizard society and noticed that Luna had gone very still. She barely looked different, but Hermione saw tears forming in her eyes and the way she seemed faraway.
Hermione had grown silent and waited, before gently asking Luna if she could help, and if she had done something to upset her. Luna hadn't spoken, instead she shook her head and raised a finger. They sat for about five minutes while Luna calmed down and finally she told Hermione she had simply become overwhelmed and overstimulated. Hermione's passion had become too much for a moment, but it was not her fault.
Hermione had a new appreciation for Luna after that, recognizing smaller signs of overstimulation or anxiety. Generally, she made sure she looked to Luna's body language to inform her of how the girl was feeling.
"Well?" Luna prompted Hermione out of her memory.
"He's different, than before," Hermione began reluctantly, "quieter. We have a lot of common ground in the project and haven't disagreed as much as I expected, or really at all." She shrugged when she saw all the surprised faces looking at her. Only Ginny, Harry and Susan seemed unsurprised.
"I've seen Draco around the ministry. Hermione is right, he's different." Susan echoed her sentiments and shot her a look of solidarity. Hermione silently thanked her for taking the focus off her.
"He's Draco Malfoy," Ron snorted, "how different can he be?" He nudged Dean and chortled. There were a few laughs of agreement, but a surprising number of the table's patrons were silent.
"Watch your mouth, Ronald," Pansy spat, gripping her butter beer so tight her knuckles went bone white, "you don't know shit about what Draco has gone through or done." Her tone was begging him to disagree.
"I don't know anything about what he's done? Are you kidding me? He has spat at my family his entire life, he called Hermione that word, he was a bully and a Death Eater, what's to know?" Ron's worlds lit the fuse on the already tense table.
"Ron back off, you know Pansy is friends with him," Ginny growled.
"I, for one, agree, Draco Malfoy is an incurable fuckhead," George chimed in.
"I don't know, he apologized to me," Susan spoke in a small voice, playing with her fingers in her lap. That caught Hermione's attention, and apparently the attention of the rest of the table, as they waited.
"He approached me in the ministry and apologized for all I lost to the Death Eater cause and for the cruel way he treated me in school." Susan continued, sticking to her guns of defending Malfoy.
"Me too," Luna chimed in, "Draco sent me a letter to apologize for his parents keeping me in his dungeon and bullying me in school. I still write him, he's trying, though I think he is quite depressed." Luna concluded her announcement by asking Padma to pass the bread.
"Same," Pansy stated, providing no more information.
"I got a letter as well," Hermione muttered.
The whole table remained silent as the revelation of so many apologies weighed heavy in the air.
"Perhaps it is none of our places to discuss a man we clearly no longer know, when he is not here to defend himself, I would rather we continue the 'who has faster reflexes' argument that inevitably ends in duels every Saturday, what do you guys say?" Padma deflected expertly.
"Obviously, I have the quickest reflexes," Harry happily contributed.
Padma's suggestion was not wasted as the tension dissipated and the night devolved, yet again, into drunken duels and pouting men, as Ginny reigned victorious.
June 24, 2002
Willow's office was homey. Located in a muggle compound, she decorated it to be comfortable and inviting. Willow had a vintage upholstered arm chair she sat in during sessions, her desk sat outside the smaller office and was where she scheduled.
Hermione was on the couch opposite her and taking in the paintings on the walls, avoiding eye contact.
"Draco Malfoy gave me an apology letter," she blurted out, still staring at any point above Willow's head.
Willow nodded and waited for Hermione to look at her, "Would you like to share what it said, or how you felt after reading it?"
Hermione pulled it out and read it aloud to Willow, who listened intently.
"Well, that is certainly a loaded letter, what was your interpretation of it?" Willow prompted Hermione cautiously.
"I think he's telling the truth. But, you know how much that day is stuck with me. And now I have to revisit it and try to change my perception of Malfoy's involvement. It's... confusing." Hermione collapsed back into the couch in exasperation.
"Many things can be true, Hermione, the only things you can control are how you feel, so, how do you feel?" Willow raised a brow and gestured for Hermione to continue.
"I feel scared. Uncertain, and I hate it. I feel so unsure of him, like at any moment he may turn and call me a mudblood and hex me. I'm afraid that by working with him I will let my guard down and he will hurt me." Her red bloomed on her cheeks. She hated being vulnerable, even with her therapist.
"That makes sense, he's given you every reason to believe that the most consistent aspect of his personality is cruelty, at least toward you," Willow comforted her, "but I think you need to decide if you are going to leave it at that, or if you want to push through the fear. I don't have an opinion either way, though, in the same way the war changed you, it may have also changed him." Her assessment was fair and unbiased. Hermione liked that Willow didn't blindly support her, and occasionally called her out.
"That doesn't mean you should ignore your feelings, you interact with Draco Malfoy in the capacity that suits you best, did you experience an anxiety attack prompted by the letter?" Willow lifted her yellow legal pad to jot any notes.
"Not really?" Hermione's response was less than certain. Willow cocked her head.
"I did not have a full episode, but my anxiety was triggered. I think some of the ptsd too. I couldn't sleep, I could only think about the letter after I read it, and my mind kept replaying the day on the drawing room floor trying to find the inconsistencies in my memory and Malfoy's letter." Hermione clarified, and received a nod of approval from Willow.
"This letter is a huge piece of your healing. It not only addresses one of the most significant traumas of your life, but it includes new information that changes your memory of it. When a trauma forms, it almost freezes the memory, holding it and solidifying it. That memory, that may as well have been frozen in amber like mosquitos from the prehistoric days, is now trying to change, morph. Your mind doesn't like it and it is fixating." Willow explained.
Hermione nodded, feeling validated by Willow's evaluation.
"As far as the anxiety, I would like you to try to look at it from a bird's eye view. Try to name the cause of the anxiety, what the anxiety is telling you and put it in the context of your life or even the day, just something bigger than the moment. You can even make a 'catastrophe list'. Come up with any possible result of the anxiety trigger and write how you would deal with those things coming to pass. I wouldn't want you to do this forever, as it could become obsessive, but it could help you feel like you have more agency and control over your anxiety and life. Are you interested in trying that?" Willow set down her pen and zoned in on Hermione.
"That absolutely sounds doable, I will give it a shot. I've also been thinking about what you mentioned last time. Quality alone time, I am trying to find hobbies other than reading to fill the time when I am not with friends or at work. I am recognizing that I can't be alone unless there is some kind of escapism, and I agree with you that it is unsustainable." Hermione gesticulated as she spoke.
"Oh, good! Have you tried anything yet?" Willow asked enthusiastically.
"I am attempting more complicated meals, I don't hate cooking, and I do enjoy good food so I have been giving that a shot." Hermione spoke proudly.
"That's great Hermione! Keep that up, and you can always swap it with something else if it becomes ineffective or you start to dislike it, we want sustainability first and foremost." Willow cautioned.
The rest of the session was mainly focused on Hermione's difficulty in being in her own skin, especially when there are no distractions. No significant breakthroughs occurred, but Hermione learned a long time ago that it was not a quick fix and she would relapse now and then, sometimes badly.
June 25, 2002
The Floo had been installed that morning. Since each of them had wards on their flats that disallowed entry unless it was keyed to the wards, they agreed to put in a Floo for an easier commute. It was strange knowing that both of their homes were linked to this Floo, and even more-so that Hermione was not at all concerned about it.
Draco and Hermione sat on the floor of their office, countless documents and resumes laid before them. The humor of the situation was not lost on her.
Draco Malfoy and herself, grown adults, sitting on the floor of their office because their desks did not offer enough space. A past version of herself wouldn't have even been able to imagine Draco Malfoy sitting on a floor. Hell, the version of herself from this morning would have laughed at the notion.
"I still think Luna would be best for the art therapy position, and it would be flexible to her schedule. Can we agree to extend an offer to interview to her before bringing in applicants?" Hermione pointed to the position with the sticky note and glanced at Malfoy as she held the pen aloft.
"Yes, I believe Lovegood would be well suited to the position," Draco agreed and Hermione marked a the sticky note and place the paper in the pile of letters to be drafted.
"I must recommend again the Gum and Rouss Mind Healing Center for the therapists. They are big enough to handle our needs and have very good personnel." Draco advocated for the group again.
There was a small selection of therapy groups they were interested in, and Draco was insistent on them.
"I understand they are your favorite choice Malfoy, but I haven't heard much about their practice and don't want to select them without knowing." She spoke diplomatically.
"I attend their center, and can tell you first hand they are more than competent and will handle our participants admirably. At the least will you come with me and meet with the partners to evaluate them?" Draco's offer lacked malice, he understood why she was apprehensive but he really wanted their practice chosen.
He froze when he realized what he'd shared. He prepared himself for the judgment or mocking, it never came.
Hermione balked for a moment but recovered quickly, not only was Malfoy in therapy, he liked it so much he was advocating for them to be the practice they used.
"Of course, contact them and add the meeting to our shared schedule." Hermione agreed swiftly.
They had each been very amenable to the ideas of the other and it had proved to be most productive. They were making incredible headway on the project.
"I've added names of other individuals that I believe would be good advocates. Though I think we should open up the positions for applicants now, we will need them immediately upon the receipt of our participants." Draco hummed, glancing at the timeline before them and passed a folder to Hermione.
"Yes, I will submit the position for the ministry to post." Hermione made another note.
"I can do it, you have a lot on your plate," Draco offered, still sorting through paperwork.
"You don't mind?" Hermione asked, trying not to show her surprise.
"Of course not, it's my job as well," his voice was accommodating but clearly finished with the subject.
The rest of the day passed in much the same way. Quiet examining and compromise.
June 26, 2002
"The monster is going to get you!" Hermione distorted her voice as she chased after James. His chubby little toddler legs couldn't move as swiftly as he would like and he tripped.
His laugh gurgled as Hermione bent over him, "I've caught you now little James, I am going to eat you up." She leaned down and tickled his belly.
"No, eat." James shrieked, still giggling.
"No, Aunt Miney, no eat!" James cried out again. Hermione's heart melted as James called her his nickname for her. Hermione was just too hard for the toddler to say, but after hearing his parents and other adults say her name, he decided 'Miney' was close enough.
"Okay James-y," he fake pouted at her changing his name, "I won't eat you tonight."
Hermione pulled him into her arms and walked upstairs to get him ready for bed. Hermione watched James whenever Harry and Ginny needed a break, and she was more than happy to do it.
She got his toothbrush and nighttime nappy and called him into the bathroom.
"Okay Mr. James, can you show me how we brush our teeth?" Hermione enunciated each syllable so that the little boy could follow.
He nodded enthusiastically and shoved the toothbrush in his mouth, just kind of pushing it around.
"Very good! Now may I help you? So we get every tooth you have?" She asked permission before taking control of the toothbrush. He nodded and muttered a serious response that sounded vaguely like 'ebery toof'.
She got him changed and they read his newest book, Hermione always brought a new book for him when she watched him.
Once he'd drifted off to sleep, Hermione made sure the monitor was working and went downstairs. Ginny had been so excited when Hermione gave her the monitors for her baby shower, she said muggles were a godsend as she was so nervous to ever be away from her baby once he came.
Pansy came through the Floo roughly ten minutes later. She sometimes kept Hermione company after James was asleep, and when Ginny would get home sometimes they did a nightcap and some gossip.
"Hey Pans," Hermione greeted as she flopped on the couch dramatically.
"Mione, it has been a day," her tone was as dramatic as the hand that came to lay on her forehead.
"Oh, what happened?" Hermione asked, trying to take her theatrics seriously.
"Draco is being a freak." She stated simply.
"Ah, Draco, yeah I just can't seem to figure him out," Hermione mused.
Pansy sat up and remembered a similar sentiment expressed by Draco.
"She's so confusing, Pansy. How is anyone meant to understand her every nuance?" He'd complained.
"Every time I see him I'm a little afraid he is going to snap, and I'm going to get hurt," Hermoine confided, glancing away at the small tube television that glowed in the background.
Pansy sat up from the couch with concern for her friend, as more whispers floated across her mind.
"What if I hurt her again? I never really learned how to interact with her. And gods, she's terrifying. I think if she decides I'm irredeemable, Hermione the collector and advocate for broken things, then that means I really am." Draco had abruptly stood and apparatus out of Pansy's flat before she could tell him that Hermione would judge him based on action. That she was open to forgiveness, that she'd forgiven her.
"Oh, Hermione," Pansy exhaled. She stood from her spot on the couch and plopped down beside her. "Draco is just as afraid of you as you are of him," she muttered, patting Hermione's hand awkwardly. Pansy wasn't really good at delicate emotions.
"What?" Hermione asked in disbelief. Pansy nodded and moved back into her own space.
"Draco is learning. He's still growing. I hated him after school, for the way he treated me like I was a servant or arm candy. It took a lot for him to earn my forgiveness, but he did. I won't tell you what he said, as I won't tell him what you said, but maybe some communication would be best for the two of you. Before you each drive yourselves mad with that introspective drivel." Pansy fixed her with a look of complete self-confidence.
She probably had a point.
Hermione didn't think Draco would be receptive to speaking in person, he'd close up. But she had a theory.
June 27, 2002
Toward the end of his session with Healer Casey, Draco drifted back to the topic of Hermione Granger.
"I know she read the letter, I can tell," he complained to Healer Casey.
"I actually wanted to ask you why you gave her a letter? I thought you wanted to speak to Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and various members of the Weasley family in person." Healer Casey did not pull punches.
"I don't think I can yet," Draco slumped in shame, "I owe her so much more than that, I owe all of them more than a letter or an apology in general. With Granger it is more personal. I watched while she was tortured and didn't lift a finger." Draco explained, growing distressed.
"You do not feel this sort of apprehension when you contact Miss Lovegood, what is the difference? I believe you said Luna considers you a friend now, and you are still in touch." Healer Casey kept her tone level. It was a logical comparison, but she knew asking it would draw a more truthful answer from Draco.
"You know it's different! I didn't personally single out Luna for her entire life. Luna didn't have a slur carved into her arm in front of my eyes or get tortured with an unforgivable." Draco was shaking a bit now.
"Draco, I apologize, I didn't mean it like that. I meant why is Hermione Granger's opinion of you so much more crucial to your own than Luna's. Draco, your worth cannot be based on another person's acceptance of you." Healer Casey said.
"I didn't think of it that way," Draco's voice was small, "I need to believe that I have value, that I deserve to live and be happy, I guess I just think Hermione Granger is the most selfless person I've ever known and I gave her too much sway."
"Good! You aren't doing yourself, or her, any favors by making her more than a person. Putting her on a pedestal is setting her up to fail, she is a human with her own issues and life, eventually she would let you down. And I think she could be a very good friendship for you to have if you go about it the right way." Healer Casey set aside her book.
Draco stood to leave, "How can I remind myself she is just a person? How do I avoid making her the measure of my recovery?" The questions were more for himself than for Healer Casey.
"Get to know her," she stated.
She wished him a good week and Draco left the office and apparated home with his mind elsewhere. Draco couldn't stop thinking about her final sentiment. Get to know her. He supposed he could try that.
He began brainstorming questions that would help him get to know his curly haired co-head, when a tapping at his living room window broke his focus.
A small barn owl stood patiently with a letter for him. Draco grabbed a few treats and opened the window.
"Thank you." He told the owl, giving it the treats. It cooed affectionately and he took the letter.
Sitting back on the couch, he observed the looping script on the front of the envelope: Draco Malfoy.
Ripping it open, he found the script on the inside to be less perfect, a little more personalized, though still fairly neat.
Draco
His heart stuttered.
I have been unsure how to breach the subject of your letter with you. I got the impression you were uncomfortable acknowledging it in person.
I decided, perhaps, writing would be a preferable way to speak about personal subjects for us. We are still meeting each other, really. I have changed from the girl I was, and I am quickly learning that you are not the boy of your youth.
I cannot give you much of an answer to your letter. I am thankful for the apology, however, I am much more of the mindset 'actions speak louder than words'.
Your actions of late, have not told me to fear you, but I will admit that I feel quite uncertain around you. You have shown up in my life, nearly a completely different person, and it will take time for me to determine what I believe to be the truth and to accept it.
I hope, we can work on getting to know each other better. We aren't making headway in person, I don't think we should write letters forever, it would be counter-intuitive to building an effective relationship, but I think it may be a good start.
Since you shared such a private and personal sentiment with me, I would like to share something with you. This is good faith that you understand I tell you this not as leverage or payment for your vulnerability, but as an admission from a potential friend.
That day was one of the worst of my life, the one on the drawing room floor. It's haunted me for a long time. I have anxiety attacks where I think I'm dying and I cannot breathe.
I also attend therapy. My therapist works with me on the trauma and anxiety and it's not easy. I see a similar struggle in you, and I hope that you are giving yourself the grace and the space to grow. I struggle to give myself room to feel, maybe I'm projecting but I get the feeling you do too.
Anyway, my favorite color is lilac. I would like to know yours.
Best,
Hermione
Draco felt like he was underwater. She addressed him by name, like a friend.
Was the letter in his hand real? How did she know? She had anxiety attacks?
Before he could let his brain get carried away, he recognized the most important thing:
This was his chance to get to know her.
He wouldn't waste it.