Draco had a difficult, trying situation to endure in the form of revealing Theo's identity and ability to others. Without Blaise's knowledge. Another person he'd need to briefly betray and then, hopefully, earn back that trust.

Draco expected the impending pain and anxiety that would surely accompany that appointment on Monday morning.

Though he wondered whether it would be more painful than his current reality of dinner with his mother and aunt.

A dinner that should have included Granger.

Draco clung to the hope she'd still attend this previously scheduled occasion. His heart had pathetically leapt with joy when he felt the Galleon warm in his trouser pocket, but her two brisk messages immediately squashed that feeling.

Please apologise to your mother and aunt on my behalf.

I have too much work to catch up on this weekend.

Still no word on what that meant for the two of them as a couple. He resisted the urge to send back another apology at the paperwork he'd probably instigated on top of the emotional turmoil he'd also caused.

In hindsight, Draco should have given his mother advance notice of Granger's absence. He should have given her some cobbled together excuse and rescheduled the dinner for some nebulous future time.

But that would have been admitting defeat in Draco's mind, and so down to his own tendency to avoid difficulties only to create new ones, Draco had opted to suffer through this stilted meal.

Narcissa had made her extreme displeasure about the lack of Granger known vocally, silently, and in just about every expression and behavioural tic since her arrival. Even the way she cut into her roast duck seemed tinged with bitterness at this evening only being a party of three.

The sound of cutlery and glasses being set down after dainty sips filled most of the dinner. Until Narcissa could no longer quell her urge to voice, once again, her confusion over Granger's non-appearance.

"Draco, I just don't understand—"

"Mother, I already explained."

"No, you deflected."

Draco sipped his wine for a generous amount of time. He'd summon something stronger, but didn't think that would go over well and he was already on thin ice.

"What is it you don't understand?"

"Why Miss Granger is not present."

"She sends her regrets."

"Sends her regrets, how preposterous. What did you do?"

The narrowed eyes of his mother never failed to get a confession. Obliquely he wondered if in another life she'd consider becoming a barrister too.

"From my own mother," he grumbled and rubbed his temples. "Why are you assuming I must have done something?"

Andromeda hid a smile in her wine glass as Narcissa let out a disbelieving scoff.

"So I am to believe that Miss Granger, a young woman your aunt speaks of with the utmost respect, is generally thought to be of the highest integrity, who has formed quite the attachment with you, simply decided to send her regrets and skip out on meeting me?"

"I… fine, I screwed up."

Narcissa pursed her lips. Evidently being right was not enough to turn her mood around.

"Have you apologised?" asked Andromeda.

"Of course but… well I think it's going to take a bit more than just words with her."

His aunt nodded sagely. "She's very proud. Very stubborn. Reminds me of someone," she said with a knowing grin.

"You should send her flowers," suggested his mother.

"This is more than a sending flowers type of debacle," he answered and picked at his food. Normally, this desultory habit would have earned him an admonishment from Narcissa about proper table manners, but she seemed too determined to course correct Draco's relationship instead.

"Jewellery? Your father once had the most gorgeous earrings commissioned for me after he dropped you as an infant."

"Father dropped me? Wait, he held me?"

"The most beautiful opals you ever saw."

Draco caught Andromeda's eye roll.

"I don't think Hermione would be interested in material objects in lieu of actual contrition," she said.

"Please, Andromeda, if he's already apologised it can't hurt his cause. What's her birthstone darling?"

"Sapphire," Draco rattled off instantly.

"Oh how fortunate for her," enthused Narcissa. "There's at least two pieces that come to mind in the Malfoy vaults. Though I'm not sure her… voluminous hair would lend itself to a tiara."

"I think she'd prefer I respect her need for solitude at the moment rather than gaudy headwear."

"Ted was like that," Andromeda chimed in. "He'd want his space when we argued."

"How would you ultimately resolve things?" asked Draco. His aunt didn't often mention her late husband or daughter, at least not in front of Draco and Narcissa.

"You're not going to like my advice," she warned wryly. "But time. If we'd each said our piece, we knew we could come back to each other with clearer heads. If she knows you're waiting her out, she'll at least leave an opening. I've never known her to be callous with those she cares about."

Perhaps not, Draco thought dismally as they adjourned to a sitting room for tea, but that didn't mean she hadn't earned the right to declare an end to things if he'd hurt her too much.

His aunt surprised him later by pulling him in for a brief embrace as the women took their leave.

"Nothing wrong with a little patience, as painful as it may seem now. She's worth it. As are you."

"Nothing wrong with a sapphire pendant either," grumbled Narcissa.

Bravery always looked like Granger.

Draco had known that from an early age. It looked like a young girl with frizzy hair and prominent front teeth, raising her hand as high as it could go in every class. It looked like a girl coming into her own on the arm of Viktor Krum at the Yule Ball. It looked like a young woman bleeding and screaming on the polished floors of a drawing room, refusing to give away her mission. Today it looked like a determined crusader; ready to solidify her theories and find the best path to justice.

But bravery also looked like Theo.

Nervous and twitchy, with limbs overflowing in a chair; pale-faced and tense but set on doing the right thing.

Draco sat rigidly beside his friend, trying to exude a calm in his role as an official witness to Theo's relinquishing of his Unspeakable Oath. As Draco did not possess a power like Theo's, he could only assist by remaining a steadfast presence as Theo essentially abandoned his entire career.

Though the coffers of House Nott were more than abundant and he did not need to work in any sense of the word to supplement his livelihood, Draco knew what this had meant to Theo. Attaining a respected profession in their world in which Theo had finally made his own name and redefined what it meant to be a Nott was no small feat. This act today obliterated his Ministry job prospects.

Bravery looked like Theo nodding at Granger and Sterling and saying, "I would like to officially break my Oath so I may assist in this investigation."

Sterling was not a man to waste his own, or anyone's, time. The paperwork was laid out, waiting on the desktop. An innocuous document, but Draco couldn't help the coil of fear that sprang up within him.

Draco remembered that coil from long ago, when he'd been on the verge of a terrible act. But now, he was aiding and abetting a cause for good. Hopefully to some god of fate or fortune, that might make a difference in the outcome.

"Please hold your wand to the parchment," instructed Sterling.

Theo's hand was steady around the handle of his Sycamore wand.

"Please state your name."

"Theodore Oneiros Nott."

"What is your occupation?"

"I am an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries for the Ministry of Magic."

"Do you wish to have the charm placed upon you by the Ministry removed?"

"I do."

"Are you asking of your own free will to have this charm removed?"

"I am."

"You would agree to be questioned under Veritaserum?"

"Yes."

"You would agree to submit memories for examination?"

"Yes."

"Do you swear on your magic that you require the breaking of your Unspeakable Oath so as to report on a criminal offense, harm done to an individual or individuals, or a threat to either the secrecy or safety of the magical world?"

"I do."

An inky black ribbon flowed out of the end of Theo's wand. It broke apart as it touched the parchment and arranged itself into the letters of his name.

"Mr. Malfoy, if you could sign here as witness," said Sterling.

As Theo did not hesitate, neither would Draco. The second he finished the last letter of his surname, the document curled into a sealed scroll and flew into Granger's outstretched hand.

"I'll take this personally to the DMLE. I'll hand it directly to either Harry or Angelina," she said and briskly left the office.

Draco exchanged a quick glance with Theo who only nodded his head in her direction.

He followed her into the hall, but she'd been too fast for him. As he saw her curls whipping around the corner, he knew chasing after her would be a futile and unwelcome gesture. This document was more time sensitive than Draco's attempts to fix their relationship. But fuck if it didn't hurt.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall.

"It really is unfair how handsomely you brood and pine."

Draco opened his eyes to see a grinning Ali Shafiq approaching.

"Mr. Shafiq."

"Ali, please, darling."

Today the man was dressed in a suit of bright cerulean with a garish brooch of a raven with a snake clamped in its talons pinned to the lapel.

"You don't work here too, do you?"

Ali let out a loud laugh. "Absolutely not, I'm a rich layabout. Sometimes I pop by and bring Sterling his preferred brand of tea and distract his employees. But it seems I've missed Hermione, so when you and your charming witch have resolved your lovers' quarrel, we'd love to have you over for dinner."

Draco raised an eyebrow at the dramatic phrasing but declined to acknowledge such a thing.

"I think they're about finished in there if you're waiting for Sterling. And I should also probably take my leave before he sees me again and indulges in any murderous impulses."

"Please, the man's all bark," said an amused Ali. He peered closer at Draco. "Has Hermione ever told you how they met? Why he hired her?"

"The first time we ever spoke, he threatened me and said she was good for the firm's reputation."

Ali smirked. "Yes, he does like to hide behind that convenient excuse. While it's true, it's not the whole truth."

Draco let his continued silence indicate he could risk bodily harm for the rest of this story.

"She marched right up to him at a charity auction, pointed a finger in his face, and accused him of lacking any and all moral compass for defending an apothecary chain for house-elf labor violations. He'd won, of course, and she felt he deserved a thorough dressing-down for such repugnant legal arguments."

"Bit rude of her."

"He thought so, at first. Came home and told me all about this uppity little war heroine who was all puffed up because his opponent in court was rather pathetic and he'd just been doing his job."

"I'm sure she'd hardly deemed that a satisfactory answer."

"Right in one. She wrote him a letter the very next morning bursting with every legal counter argument that should have been levied against him, a treatise on the history of house-elf abuse and enslavement, and a dissertation on how being a fellow Muggleborn should give him unique insights into the inequalities perpetuated by the magical legal system. He sent her an owl with a job offer at lunch."

"She doesn't do anything by half."

Ali patted his shoulder sympathetically. "My husband, if you couldn't tell, doesn't care much for people. It's why she's good for him. She reminds him why he should," he said gently.

Long after Draco had left the law offices, his impressions of the woman he knew seemed to lead back to the same conclusion he'd reached a long time ago.

Hermione Granger was very much a fallible human. She was bossy, at times vindictive, and prone to bouts of grating self-righteousness.

But Draco remembered his summation of her in his Sixth Year: of how she cared and cared and cared so loudly even when it did not benefit her in the least.

Because Draco knew; he'd seen it in the way she'd rushed out of the room today. She still cared for him. Far too much and perhaps to her own detriment.

He had another empty evening stretched out before him. He could dive into the depths of his liquor cabinet, bring out one of the rare bottles and sign up for an immensely depressing evening of staring at a fucking coin.

Or he could make good on at least one promise in his life.

"This is a welcome surprise," said Pansy as he stepped out of the Floo. She glanced behind him with a confused frown.

"Where's Granger?"

Draco rubbed the back of his neck and took an unnecessary amount of care with dusting soot off his clothes.

"Ah, home? Probably?"

When he heard nothing in response, he looked into Pansy's eyes. A tactical error.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"Then why isn't she here and why are you all shifty?"

"I… just a misunderstanding is all."

"I'm Floo-ing to hers. Am I yelling at her or consoling her?"

He only lasted about five seconds in their next staring contest.

"Consoling."

Pansy took a sharp inhale and Draco knew the exhale would contain supreme annoyance at his actions and general existence. "You complete arse, I told you not to screw this up with her!"

She pushed past Draco with a muttered, "I'm raiding your wine cellar first," as she Floo'ed away in a huff.

Draco nodded at Greg who stood uncertainly in the doorway to the parlour.

"If you wanted to stay, Pansy has a barmy amount of aged brandy neither she nor her mum drink."

"I actually did come to see you," said Draco and Greg gave him a tentative half-grin.

Before drinks could even be summoned or poured, Pansy returned, clutching her favourite Merlot and a sauvignon blanc for good measure.

She stalked up to Draco with an abrupt question. "Do you know why she helped me? With Greg?"

Draco shook his head. He'd never asked Granger a second time, after she'd shrugged him off the first time he'd asked.

"I wrote this beautifully crafted letter. So deferential you wouldn't believe. I'm sure she's saving it for future blackmail on me. Addressed her as 'Miss Granger' this and 'Solicitor Granger' that. I talked up her Hogwarts achievements, I complimented her intelligence, it was the most embarrassing, humiliating thing I've ever put to parchment. Merlin, I even apologised to her for all the shite I said to her when we were younger."

"And she agreed?"

"Not then. She wrote back, 'Pansy, I'm honoured you would consider my help but why would you ask me?'"

"I mean, it is a bit odd you'd ask her," said Draco and earned a withering glare for his interruption.

"Well I wrote her that it's obvious, because she only ever makes the right choice. And I thought if I could convince her, then Greg had a chance. If I had her in my corner then maybe that just might make a difference to a court if they saw their heroine willing to fight for him."

"So you flattered her some more then?"

Pansy let out a derisive snort. "Draco, flattery gets you nowhere with her, you know this." She inspected the bottle in her hands, presumably reading the label. Or perhaps she did not want to look at either of the wizards in the room when she quietly finished her story.

"Granger cares about everything and it's aggravating in general, but she just wants to know other people do too, I think. She wanted me to tell her about Greg. About the Gregory Goyle I know. And once I'd done that, she sent over a contract for services within an hour."

"What did you say?"Draco couldn't help but ask.

Pansy kept her gaze on the bottle. "That's between me and Granger."

"You never told me that," said Greg softly.

"I…" Pansy looked up at him but froze, speechless. A rare sight for his generally gregarious friend. The girl who always had a barb on her tongue, a stream of one-liners at the ready, disarmed by a quiet observation.

"I'll write it down for you," she murmured, then left for Granger's home.

"That was Blaise's idea," said Greg, offering a bit of conversation to a room otherwise devoid of it.

"What?"

"Having Pansy write to me on… on days where I don't feel much up to conversation or leaving my room. She'll write me letters instead and then it's like how it all started, with her coming through on a piece of parchment."

"She can be a lot to handle in person."

"Yeah. She can," he agreed and chuckled affectionately.

Draco couldn't recall Greg having smiled much at school. Perhaps because he was always standing behind Draco with Crabbe, ready to laugh cruelly at something Draco said or did. Or he'd be in front of Draco, a shield for a hex or a punch.

He wondered how often Pansy managed to inspire the expression on his face, or a laugh from his throat.

"I'm working on something with Granger. Do you mind if I ask about… about your time in Azkaban?"

Greg shrugged and shifted in his seat. "I s'pose. This is for that advocacy thing, yeah?"

"In a way. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"S'alright. I've got nothing to hide, Pansy knows it all anyway."

Draco took a moment to marvel at such a statement and the careless and easy way in which Greg uttered it. As if showing the worst parts of yourself to someone wasn't this hugely terrifying feat of bravery coupled with imminent self-sabotage, but rather, a natural consequence of caring for another person.

"Did they ever tell you why they had to sequester some of you? Put you in an isolated unit?"

Unsurprisingly, Greg replied with a similar refrain Draco had heard from other prisoners before. "Yeah, dragon pox, I'm pretty sure. They had to give us some potions or something I think."

"Can you recall anything from that time period?"

Greg took a measured sip of the brandy and looked like he was thinking hard. "It's odd y'know? I wasn't going mad or anything when I was talking about my sleep being good in there. But yeah it was… I'm trying to remember but it's a bit fuzzy. They said it was a quarantine thing, but I definitely have these images in my head of other beds in the room. Other people in the room. Like a hospital ward, you know? But let me tell you I slept like the damn dead."

"Can you describe the sleep? Did you dream at all?"

"Just… calm. Like I didn't have to worry about anything, not good, not bad. Just regular sleep. The really good kind. No nightmares at all. They came back though, after."

"Did they let you have Dreamless Sleep?"

"No, said there was a shortage I think."

"When I saw you once, you said you hadn't been able to send post for a bit."

"Yeah, while I was in that ward I don't think I was allowed post. I was pretty out of it though."

"Do you think your memory of that period was tampered with?"

"I—" His eyes widened and Draco saw his knuckles whiten as they tightened around the glass. A grim realisation that perhaps his thoughts and memories were not quite his own. "Fuck, do you think? But why have I got bits and pieces of it? If they modified my mind, why not take everything?"

"Because I think perhaps someone wanted a chance for you to be able to tell us about it."

"Bugger," he muttered and polished off his drink in a long swig. "I'm guessing you and Hermione are trying to get to the bottom of this, yeah?"

"Her more than me but… well, yes. I'm… we're… trying. To figure out what happened to you all."

"She'll do it," Greg asserted confidently. "The two of you working together, seems like that's a good shot. You're both, you know… smart."

"Oh, uh, thanks Goy- Greg."

Granger probably would have squeezed Draco's knee and given him that look of pride that he didn't realise he coveted until this moment. She probably also would have tilted her head in Greg's direction in a not-so-subtle hint to keep talking like normal adults do in social situations.

"How've you been?" Draco tried. Merlin, had he really never asked this question of Greg his entire life?

"Pansy and her mum have been good to me. And Blaise has helped loads."

A beat of silence that Draco didn't know how to fill. Empathy was an uncomfortable sensation that younger Draco hadn't bothered to have when considering the existence of Greg in his world.

"Do you like it?" Greg asked suddenly.

"Like it?"

"The programme. Working with the prisoners."

"It's ah… it's all right, I suppose. I think that they um, well most of them, like speaking with someone their age who isn't a lawyer or a guard."

Greg nodded and chewed his lip. "Pansy thinks I should ask Hermione if I can help out with it."

"Oh, that's um... Well that sounds… right, that would be helpful for Granger. She's fond of it."

"And you of her," Greg said and smirked over his glass.

"You're one to talk, care to elaborate on your relationship with Pansy?"

"She's letting me take her to dinner. Proper-like, to a restaurant in Diagon."

"She agreed to that? To go out in public?"

"Took weeks to convince her but yeah, she said she's ready. She didn't go to Azkaban but she didn't have to. To suffer."

An erudite comment on the woes of their mutual friend that Draco hadn't thought Greg ever capable of, but then, it seemed he'd underestimated many people as of late.

Including himself.

He talked quidditch with Greg for a while longer, and when he had consumed enough brandy to consider pulling a possibly life-ending move, left via fireplace.

Merlin bless this Pansy-Granger friendship. It meant that the Floo connection between his current location and Granger's home was still open.

Two pairs of wide eyes greeted him when he stepped into her sitting room, but Pansy recovered first.

She crossed her arms and stood from the sofa, blocking Granger from view.

"Can we help you?"

"I need to speak with Granger."

"Maybe she doesn't want to speak with you."

"You can stand down Pansy, it's fine," said an exasperated Granger.

Pansy whirled back towards her, disbelieving hands on her hips. "Are you sure? You've had a few glasses of wine and you seem like the type of witch to fall for his wiles while under the influence."

She leaned down and peered into Granger's face. Granger huffed and scooted around her personal bodyguard.

"For goodness' sake Pansy, it's fine, I'm fine, I'll speak with him."

She impatiently flicked her wand and then followed the empty wine glasses floating over to her sink.

"Fine, on your own bushy head be it. I'll owl you tomorrow," Pansy promised and gave Draco one last threatening glare before Floo'ing home.

Draco tried for a lopsided grin. "I promise not to use my wiles on you, especially since you're apparently compromised."

"Why did you come over?"

Her tone indicated she was definitely not inebriated enough to immediately cave to playful humour. She stayed behind her counter. A physical barrier between them.

"I was just speaking with Greg about his time away. He was able to recall a bit from the stint in the separate ward, but not enough. Which means when and if we get permission to use memories as evidence, the removal process will have to—"

"I'm experienced in the removal process for Memory Modification Charms, having seen it done on my own parents, thank you very much."

Snippy and hacked off, even with slightly glassy eyes from Merlot consumption. But fuck if her sanctimonius posture, voice, and all around uptight aura didn't make his heart ache for missing her. For missing how she'd let him turn her priggish attitude right around with calculated maneuvers from his hands or lips.

Despite Pansy's ridiculous claims, he'd need to appeal to logic and compassion if he had any hopes of reigniting what had once flourished so brightly between them.

"I'm aware, Granger. But Greg spoke of having bits and pieces of his experience still in his memory, which means the charm was either ineffective or perhaps not done right the first time."

She inspected her nails. "Is that all?"

"Right, well I just thought you'd want to know. In case you hadn't considered that angle."

"It's pretty obvious, based on what Flint said and all the rest of the statements."

"Right."

Draco didn't move. She hadn't asked him to leave and he'd not prematurely end his own shot at reconciliation.

"What did you really come here for?"

A fleeting opportunity to show her he could be trusted.

"To try and help. And because I think I've given you enough words at this point. This is an action."

She hugged her arms around her middle and moved to sit on the sofa. But on the far end. A healthy distance from where he still stood.

"I think Theo purposely botched some of the memory charms," Draco said.

"Well if he did, he should be able to tell us soon."

Right. Obviously.

"I just wanted to give you something to work with… in case the motion got denied." Another pointless statement from Draco.

"Sterling's optimistic on that front. Harry's testimony, the missing warden, I think they're keen to get to the bottom of it. Kingsley's been pressuring as well on that front, which works massively in our favour of course. He'll want his Ministerial legacy to be known as the leader who brought us out of the post-war mess. If we can mount a solid case, he'll support our effort."

"Good. That's good."

"I appreciate the gesture."

A kind statement but still a dismissal of sorts. He at least interpreted it as such.

His unwilling feet took him to her fireplace again, but his mouth made one more play.

"No one taught me how to be like you," he murmured.

"What do you mean?"

"It's not instinctual for me. To want to help."

She sighed. "It's not about instincts, Draco. It's about will and effort. And not just being able to spot an injustice, but being willing to fight against it, even at personal cost."

"You make it sound easy."

"It never is. I'm not… I'm not going to lecture you or scold you right now. I appreciate this… more than you know. I don't think you give yourself enough credit. I'm still… well, I'm not ready to… but-"

She trailed off, chewing her bottom lip to play for time.

"But?" He prompted, expecting the worst.

"This is a good start," she said with a small smile.

She stood and approached him slowly. She popped up on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Her lips moved to his ear. "Thank you."

She stepped back and swept her gaze over his face. Calculating, cataloguing, her mouth turned down into her combination frown of concentration and confusion.

"Did you mean it?"

"I mean everything I say."

He received the frown of annoyance for that one.

"What you sent through the Galleon. About your dream. And me."

"Of course I did."

His response came out hoarse and imbued with more emotion than intended. It eviscerated her frown, though. Destroyed her features and then made them anew into a softer look, a delectable parting of her lips and dilated pupils.

An expression of want.

"Maybe Pansy was right about the wine," she grumbled and averted her gaze to the floor.

"Would you prefer we talk when you're less susceptible to my charms?"

"There's… much I need to say when I'm not distracted by," she waved her hand vaguely at the middle of his chest and then in the direction of his face.

She took a deep breath and exchanged her susceptibility for apprehension. "You'll be there with Theo? When we remove the oath? It should be any day now."

You'll be there for me too, right? Rang out loud and clear.

"Yes."

Before he left, Draco lifted her wrist to his mouth. A quick kiss that said he'd wait. A brush of lips that said he understood. A brief taste of skin as a reminder that he cared.

He cared so fucking much.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Next chapter on August 17.