I'm back and feeling like I can commit to this once per week schedule! Good old summer will do that for you, huh? Can I get an "amen" from my students? No? That's fine. I appreciate that some of you are still here and reading, student or not :)
Love,
Cherry
When Hermione stepped out of the Floo and into the drawing room, she noted that Draco was holding two glasses of wine.
"Are we celebrating?" Hermione asked, accepting one of the glasses. "Is it your birthday or something?"
"No, it is not my birthday." Draco rolled his eyes, and suddenly Hermione realised she didn't know when Draco's birthday was.
"When is your birthday anyway?" Hermione asked as they left the room. They turned left and Hermione knew they were headed toward the library.
"June." He said casually, as if it hadn't happened just one month prior. Hermione slowed to a stop and when Draco looked back at her, he noticed she was glaring.
"You never said anything." She whinged. "I would have gotten you something."
"I'm not particularly fond of my birthday." Draco noted, gesturing for Hermione to catch up. "All it ever meant growing up was another year of new responsibilities as I matured into manhood."
"Well perhaps that's how you used to celebrate your birthday, you should have told me, I would have planned something to show you how lovely they can be!" Hermione bit her cheek to keep from getting too upset. She had grown soft in her old age, and knew what kind of resentment someone could hold for their birthday if they grew up neglected. It had taken ages for Harry to accept that the people around him wanted to celebrate his birthday because they loved him, and Draco was now in a similar situation. But this time, Hermione had been so focussed on everything else that she hadn't tried very hard to show Draco how much he meant to her.
Which was a normal amount. No more and no less than how much Harry or Ginny or Luna meant to Hermione.
When Draco saw that Hermione still looked upset, he tried to lighten the mood. "Honestly, Hermione, what could you give me anyway? I live alone, in a mansion, with more belongings than I know what to do with."
"I-I would've at least made you a cake." She stuttered, not particularly prepared to hear Draco say her name. When did that change happen?
"Thrump and Mimmy made one." Draco reassured her. "I'm sure it wasn't nearly as good as what you could make, but-"
"Oh no, I'm sure it was better." Hermione cut him off as they entered the library. "I can follow a recipe, but that's about it."
The two sat down for dinner at the large table at the center of the library, and as much as Hermione had enjoyed her meals in Japan, she had missed Mimmy's cooking. Tonight's meal was coq au vin with a handmade french baguette. It was all too delicious, and Hermione had to pace herself to avoid speaking with a full mouth.
"How was your trip?" Draco asked. "You were slated to meet two farmers, yes?"
"Yes." Hermione sighed and made a face. "The second didn't like me. I would hate to assume it was because I'm a woman, but it started to feel like it was when he told me that I should leave for the day so 'the men could speak.'" Draco smirked and Hermione shot him a look.
"But, I went back to the first farm, run by a man named Arata Matsuda. He was the one I told you about, and he's just the loveliest, Draco. We've made a gentleman's agreement that he'll teach me what he knows and give me access to his supply of Witch's Ganglion, and pending his confirmation that an arrangement between us won't affect his contract with Nabe Skincare, he's willing to partner long term for production, if I'm able to make this work."
"I had a feeling." Draco responded and gestured to the wine glasses he had met her with. "I didn't want to seem too confident, but those were indeed to celebrate, you just got the context wrong."
"Well I say they apply to celebrating your birthday, too, since you let it pass without saying anything." Hermione playfully chided and held her glass up for a toast. Draco reciprocated and they both drank before returning to their food.
"Anyway, the easy part is done." Hermione continued. "Now that I've got the initial potion down and a partner identified, I'm going to have to spend some time learning how to control and use the Witch's Ganglion. And I have to find a way to pay Mr. Matsuda for his time and efforts, so I have a meeting set up for next week to meet with someone from Gringotts to see if they would offer me a loan."
"That is an aptly timed transition into why I've invited you here tonight, actually. And another reason for the wine, I suppose." Draco spoke and Hermione put all her attention on him. "I've made a deal with Bianchi, so on July fifteenth, we're set to announce the launch of Malfoy Enterprises, with its first division being devoted to Research and Development."
Hermione set down her fork and clasped her hands over her mouth. "Draco! Why didn't you start the night by saying that? That is wonderful news!"
"It came up eventually." Draco shrugged, not used to this kind of praise.
"But here I've been, prattling on about my work when you're founding a new branch of your company? Oh, congratulations, Draco, I'm so excited for you." She gushed and squeezed his arm, not particularly in a favorable position to hug him, but that was probably for the best.
"Well, it might be exciting news for you, too." Draco slowly proposed, hoping it didn't sound too much like he had done this all for her. To some extent, it was true that Hermione had inspired all of this work, but he didn't want to look desperate in her eyes.
"Oh?" Hermione asked, taking another bite from her dish. Draco was hoping that she would connect the dots herself but clearly that wasn't going to happen.
"Well, as it stands, I run Malfoy Investments. And soon, I'll have a division devoted to inventing. So I'd like to invest in an inventor." Draco waited and as the offer dawned on Hermione, she slowly looked up from her plate and to Draco.
"You...you want to give me money. To see this project through."
"If you're interested." Draco tried to sound casual, though he felt anything but.
"And what would be the conditions? When would I have to pay you back?"
"Well, I see three options. One, I give you some amount of money for a percentage of stake in your final product. Two, I loan you the money, and you pay me back some percentage from your profits until I've recuperated my investment. Or three," Draco hesitated for the briefest of moments, "you come to work for Malfoy Enterprises, and the investment becomes a grant to fund your project."
At that, Hermione's fork slipped through her fingers and made a loud noise as it hit her plate. They both jumped and Hermione rushed to pick up the fork and set it to the side, desperately hoping she didn't damage the silverware or fine china. She ran her hands over her lap once before looking back at Draco.
"You...want me to work for you?" She asked and Draco was certain she was offended.
"Not for me, no. Well I suppose by extension, for me, but you would work under Bianchi. He would oversee everything you do, assist you in your research - only as needed - and you would only ever see me at the Christmas party." Draco was babbling and he found himself unable to stop. "Well, I would hope I could see you more than just once a year, but in a formal work situation, it would really only be at company-wide events and meetings. Any orders you would receive would be from Bianchi, and we have a very thorough Human Resources, so if I ever made you feel uncomfortable or uncertain, they would be more likely to go after me than you." Draco tried to slow down, unable to tell what Hermione was thinking. Her brows were drawn together tightly, and as she thought, her nose would scrunch up, then loosen, then scrunch up once more.
"Or you can just choose one of the first two options." Draco spoke again. "Honestly, the cheapest solution for you would probably be the second option, where you just pay me back over time, because I do think this will be a very successful product if you succeed in controlling the Witch's Ganglion element-"
"I'll do it." Hermione interjected, completely halting Draco's line of thought.
"You'll...do it?" Draco asked, gobsmacked.
"Yes, I'll come work for you." Hermione confirmed, surprising even herself. "I'm not generally impulsive, but I'm tired of being a healer. These past few months of research have shown me that I'm simply playing it safe by working at St. Mungo's, and I don't want that anymore." She looked straight at Draco. "So I want to work under Bianchi. For decent pay, of course, I should be negotiating now, shouldn't I?" After a moment of silence, the two broke out in laughter.
"I never thought you would accept that easily!" Draco exclaimed. "I figured it would take some coaxing, perhaps a couple loans before you saw that it would be worth your while to switch jobs, but you just went for it."
"I did!" Hermione agreed, wiping tears from her eyes as they continued to laugh. "But I might as well, I mean, what have I got to lose? A job I don't particularly care for anymore?"
"Stability?" Draco suggested and Hermione looked serious for a moment before laughing again.
"Stability!" She blurted. "I spent my entire education at Hogwarts practically looking for things that would cause instability, what makes you think I like stability?"
"No clue." Draco responded, his laughter reducing to chuckles. "But to answer your question, yes, you should be negotiating. While I won't pay you Knuts, do remember that this is a start up, and I'm having to pay Bianchi's salary and several wizards who assist him that he's written into our deal."
"Not to sound terrible at negotiating, but I don't need much." Hermione said, returning some of her attention to her meal. "My lifestyle is much less grandiose than yours, and I own my flat so I really only need enough galleons to pay my bills. Well, that and to cushion my nest egg a little, so I can buy a larger home when it's time."
"In Dorset?" Draco asked.
"Yes." Hermione looked confused. "How did you know that?"
"I..." Draco tried to draw upon the memory that had fed him the answer, and when he did, he felt himself close off from the conversation. "You must've brought it up at some point." He finally concluded.
While Hermione couldn't remember telling Draco that she wanted to live in Dorset, she didn't pry solely because Draco looked like he had seen a ghost, and not a friendly one.
"Well anyway, I'll have to give some thought to my conditions." Hermione continued. "Can I have the week to think about them?"
"Yes, that's fine." Draco agreed, turning his attention back to the meal. "We won't announce for two more weeks, so you can take the time you need. Though if you're open to it, I'd like to announce your addition to the team when I announce Bianchi. Selfishly, I think it would make for good press."
"Sure." Hermione agreed. "You said July fifteenth, yes? I'll want to alert Harry and Ginny before they read it in the Daily Prophet."
"Yes, July fifteenth." Draco confirmed and smiled tightly.
The two returned to their dinners and were mostly quiet, but by the end of the meal, Hermione was back to telling Draco about her trip, and Draco was happy to listen. When they finished eating, Hermione promised to send Draco her reply as soon as possible, and he walked her to the Floo, wishing her congratulations once more before she left.
Draco's cool, collected expression crumpled the moment Hermione vanished, and he stormed his way to his office, plucking a bottle of fire whisky from the cabinet. He poured it into a crystal tumbler before falling into a chair by the fire, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
Dorset. It had been enough to jog Draco's modified memory just enough to piece together what had happened the night they went to Cantlebar Road. They had gone to the woodworking shop, met with two men, the more suspicious of two had identified himself as Augustin Savatier. He had known Draco, though Draco still didn't know how, and likely wouldn't until he received a response from Fleur Weasley. But the night had continued after that. They had gone to a pub. They drank. They pretended they were a couple. They kissed. Hermione left.
Draco had closed his mind from the memory at that point, he didn't need to relive the shame that came with being turned down by Hermione.
"Thrump!" Draco called and the house-elf appeared nearly immediately.
"Master has called Thrump?" He asked in his gravelly voice.
"If...if you know something about someone else, and it's not something they wanted, it's best to leave it alone, yes?" When Thrump just stared at Draco silently, Draco continued. "If it's something they don't remember, and you do, but it's something that reflects poorly on you, that they didn't want, then you shouldn't tell them, right?"
"Master...wants to keep a secret." Thrump attempted to deduce, but Draco's vague description confused him. Finally, Draco told Thrump what had happened, knowing that as a house-elf, Thrump couldn't repeat the information to anyone else. When Draco finished explaining what happened, Thrump's ears perked up.
"Thrump thinks Master should not tell Miss Granger." He explained. "If nothing good came of the interaction, then what would Master need to tell Miss Granger for anyway?"
"Because if she remembers I kissed her and that I didn't tell her, she may hate me."
"But Master, there is only one piece of evidence that Master would know. If Master destroys it, then Miss Granger would never know that Master knew before her."
Draco went to respond but paused. "Evidence?" He asked slowly, and Thrump's ears went flat against his head.
"Master's robes." Thrump explained. "They, they have Miss Granger's lipstick on them. Just here." Thrump gestured to his throat and Draco immediately stood.
"And why didn't you mention this sooner, Thrump?"
"Thrump didn't want Master to worry. Especially not when his memory had been altered enough already."
"Where are the robes, Thrump?" Draco's voice grew deeper and though Thrump looked worried, he took Draco to the utility room, where Draco's robes were hanging in a garment bag.
"Th-Thrump tried to clean them." Thrump wrung his hands as Draco opened the bag to inspect. "B-But Mimmy must have used a charm to keep Miss Granger's lipstick from coming off."
As Thrump continued to defend his decision to not tell Draco about the robes, Draco ran his fingers over the smudge of red on the white collar of his shirt. She could have done this while whispering in my ear. Draco told himself. This didn't mean anything.
"And why didn't you alert Mimmy to this issue?" Draco asked. "If she'd set the permanency charm, she could undo it."
"Mimmy a-always talks about how Master and Miss Granger are meant to be, Thrump couldn't let Mimmy get the wrong idea."
Draco's grasp tightened briefly on the garments before he let go, knowing Thrump was right.
"Then tell her not to make any fuss but to help you clean this up."
"Y-Yes, Master." Thrump agreed, disappearing with a crack. Draco sighed and rubbed his eyes. Perhaps this was one of those times he needed friends. But who could he talk to about this? His friends from Hogwarts would never understand, especially when they found out that it was Hermione Granger that he was pining over. And Draco hadn't put any effort into gathering any new friends, which he was beginning to regret, now that he was living his own life.
With a disgruntled moan, Draco realised there was only one person he could honestly speak to about this, and while it pained him to do it, he walked upstairs and into the drawing room that housed his mother's portrait.
"Well, well, imagine seeing you here, son. It's been what, several months since we last spoke?" Narcissa raised an eyebrow at her son and he tightened his jaw in response. Asking for advice from his dead mother's portrait, what a way to spend the evening.
"It's only been three weeks and I've been busy with work." Draco retorted. "You should be happy I'm taking care of the company with you two gone."
"I am, Draco, darling, I just wish I had someone to speak to during these periods when you grow busy." She not so subtly hinted at her husband's portrait, and looked at her nails instead of Draco.
"Well, if you can answer my question without making me regret asking you, I'll put his painting up there." Draco gestured to the wall opposite Narcissa, and her eyes flicked up to Draco's.
"What an interesting proposition. This must be some question you're about to ask."
"I'm already starting to regret it." Draco pointed a finger at Narcissa and she raised her hands in surrender.
"Apologies, I'll keep quiet until you need my response." She folded her hands in her lap and looked at Draco patiently. He found himself switching between sitting and standing as he tried to think of how to word his question.
"I find myself in a predicament." He started. "One where I know something that Hermione doesn't, and while it doesn't reflect well on me and it would be beneficial to keep it quiet, I find myself at odds, because I think she deserves to know."
"Does she deserve to know because it's the 'right' thing to do? Or because you want her to know?" Narcissa questioned.
"I don't want her to know." Draco answered immediately. "I...did something that left her unhappy, and I worry it would affect the friendship we have built if she finds out."
"But there's nothing keeping her from remembering on her own, so you would rather it come from you?" Narcissa guessed, and Draco nodded hesitantly.
"But if she doesn't ever remember and you tell her, then you risk losing a friend." More nodding from Draco. "And losing the woman you love." Draco continued to nod but stopped himself when he considered what she said. He hadn't expected Narcissa to know that he loved Hermione. It shouldn't have been a shock, given the looks she gave him when he found himself unable to stop talking about Hermione when they used to meet regularly, but he had learned to manage his infatuation. To tamp it down in his gut as far as it would go. Far enough that no one would ever know. But mother knows best, as Narcissa had always liked to say, so Draco shouldn't have expected anything less out of his mother's painting.
"I kissed her." He confessed. "We were drinking and flirting and I just did it."
"And she rejected you." Narcissa guessed, and when her son nodded, she did feel pity for him. She didn't particularly like Hermione, but Draco did and that was good enough for her now that the Dark Lord was gone.
"I cannot live without her." Draco said quietly, aware that this was the first time he was willing to admit to himself how much Hermione meant to him. "It's terribly selfish, and she deserves far better, but I cannot risk losing her due to my stupidity."
"Then maybe you just use a little more occlumency to cloud her memory further." Narcissa suggested. "Only joking." She clarified when Draco shot her an angry look.
"Look, my love, there will be times that you feel as though your heart is breaking when in reality, it is just reshaping to make itself stronger. Miss Granger is a smart girl, there is a very good chance she will remember what happened, and if she does, you have to accept her response, whether it be good or bad. She may feel she needs to distance herself from the friendship, she may say nothing has changed, or she may be working through something herself and grow to love you back, crazier things have happened, but to define your ability to live on her acceptance of you...I raised you better than that, Draco. I raised you to be a powerful man who could face adversity a thousand times over, but you would never break from it." Narcissa gazed fondly upon her son. "I cannot decide what you should do, but I can tell you that the world will continue to revolve, whatever you decide."
The room was quiet then, as Draco digested his mother's lesson, and with a single nod, he left the room. Narcissa hoped she had gotten through to him on some level, and when Thrump and Mimmy entered the room carrying Lucius' portrait, she knew she must have said something right.
"No, it's just that, erm, I kind of assumed you were friends in the way that Harry and I were friends for most of school." When Hermione didn't respond, Ginny continued. "You know, the kind of friends where if you find you're alone together, and you've been talking for hours, perhaps you're a little tippled from the drinks you had earlier in the night over a rousing game of 'who can go the longest without blinking,' and then you just...maybe snog for a while. Are you not that type of friends with Malfoy?"
