Dear reader,
I feel lucky to have spent so much time today writing. Hopefully tomorrow will be equally gracious for that.
This is my first dramione fanfic. Any thoughts, comments and criticism are highly welcome and appreciated. I'm here to improve.
A/N: I own nothing.
Malfoy Manor, two days later
Narcissa had never seen her son like this. Although the Malfoy manor had never been a particularly happy place, it had never been this bad. She could hear Draco pacing in the room, his cries and howls echoing through the empty rooms during the night. There were quiet moments too. Draco would sit down at his writing desk. His finest quill scratched inky marks onto a piece of parchment. The portraits on the walls tried their best to remain unnoticeable while also trying to get a glimpse of what he was writing. In a matter of seconds, Draco could crumple up the current letter, toss it behind him and burn it to ashes.
He had sent two owls, one to Blaise and one to Pansy. During the day, he seemed almost fine. He took tea with his mother, but stayed alone in his rooms for the rest of the time. He had asked for the Daily Prophets of last two years and he was skimming through them one by one. Narcissa didn't know what he was looking for. She had given him books about veelas, but her son had not even touched them. They lied on the corner of his desk in a neat pile.
Unable to watch this for much longer, the pure-blood witch sat down at her own desk and dipped a quill into the ink. She had thought about wording this letter for a long time and she was done in a matter of minutes. She folded the parchment gently, put it in an envelope and closed it. She dripped melted wax over it and sealed it with a stamp that had been in their family for generations. The eyes on portraits followed her, as she walked to the small owlery linked to the estate. Usually she wouldn't bother with such trivialities, but this time, she wanted to be sure no time was wasted in sending this out.
After that was done, she settled down in the dining room for late breakfast. Draco didn't join her and she felt a sting in her heart.
Draco Malfoy was angry. He was seething because of the conflicting emotions raging him. He wanted to reach out to the woman he longed for. He wanted to leave her be – that would be what she wanted, wouldn't it? He had ruined her life since the beginning and even though the moments were somewhat sweet in his memory, it had always been evident he had caused her pain.
Hermione bloody Granger. The moment he had run into her on the train for the first, he had wished her gone. She terrified him to the core and yet, he couldn't stay away from her. So he did what he thought was best: he made sure she would stay away. Now, it causedhim physical pain to even look at moving pictures of her in an old newspaper.
"Damn you!" he screeched. It was followed by a loud thump which made Narcissa jump in her chair. In a spur of the moment, the young Malfoy had sent his desk flying and scorched it. He got himself together momentarily after that and started picking up the papers which had escaped the fireball and floated to the floor.
He sat down once more and started drafting another letter addressed to the muggleborn witch. Even though he finished writing it, he crumpled it up and threw it away. Before a fireball could hit it, however, a house elf had switched it with a crumpled up ball of parcel wrapping.
Tinky was so proud of herself for snatching the letter. She knew she could get in big trouble for this, but she was too curious for her own good. The house elf read the draft of the letter eagerly. Her eyes widened in shock and trembling, she dropped the item. Tinky had to decide: to destroy the letter? To make sure it reached the addressee? She picked the letter up and tucked it into her pocket. "Do what you must to help Draco," his mistress had said earlier. While she thought about the best course of action, Tinky could prepare the tea for her young master. Tea and sandwiches, she believed, made everything a little better.
Draco glared at the plate of cucumber sandwiches that appeared on his desk. He had told the annoying house elf to leave him alone. Smelling the tea, however, soothed his wrecking nerves and he dropped the newspaper. It was from six months ago and the object of his obsession was on the front page. She was smiling awkwardly under the eye-catching headline. "Hermione Granger leaves Ministry!"
"Draco!" The wizard who glided smoothly into the room, yelling the blonde's name was none other than Blaise Zabini. He was well-groomed for the day, because he had no work and didn't have to wear the distinguishable healer robes. "How's it going, man?" He waved his wand, transforming a refined metal chair into a comfy leather sofa before taking a seat.
"Okay," lied the Slytherin prince without even a blink. "Been… catching up." He gestured lazily towards the piles of newspapers. It didn't escape Blaise's notice that there were hundreds of Hermiones moving on them. He reached out to grab one.
"Quidditch has been quite entertaining," he mentioned offhandedly. Blaise had considered a career in quidditch but had found the healer's profession more challenging in the end. He didn't need the job, but it helped to keep him occupied after he got tired of partying without his best buddy. The compulsory course on muggle medical devices had been excruciating. But if he hadn't taken it, he would have been unable to get Draco the help he needed in Azkaban.
"Really?" questioned the blonde without much interest. He was gazing at the peacocks strolling freely in the garden, but even so his thoughts were elsewhere.
"Really." Blaise smirked. "Weaslette has been stirring up trouble with the Harpies. Almost as bad as Granger. She left the Ministry, you know." He was tempting Draco who didn't move even when the name of the brightest witch of her age was mentioned. He didn't show any interest even though now, he was listening carefully.
"I'm pretty sure the mudblood still hasn't figured out what to do with her life." Blaise set the bait and without realizing it, Draco took it.
"Don't call her that," he hissed. Blaise sniggered at his reaction. "Seriously."
"If you care for her so much, you should send her an owl."
"No." Draco's answer was even more resolute than in St Mungo's. He was slowly gaining control over his body and mind. It still hurt though. He felt like his entire being was being pulled underwater and like his lungs were filling with water. It was painful to breathe. But he had made up his mind and he was as stubborn as any other Malfoy. He would persevere.
...
Hermione Granger's apartment, muggle London
Hermione came home to find another pile of letters on her kitchen counter. Despite her best efforts to keep owls out of her cooking area, she still hadn't realized what attracted the birds to it was an open pack of crackers. The young witch grabbed the letters and entered her study where her comfy chair welcomed her bottom with a quiet plopping sound.
There was one letter from the Ministry, asking for her counsel in a matter of utmost urgency as the writer put it, two letters from companies seeking her as a prospective employee, and a couple of letters from her young admirers. She was about to put the letters into her "waiting for response" folder, when she noticed a letter sealed with green wax. She inspected the seal and broke it after recognizing the extravagantly curved M for Malfoy.
Dear Ms Granger,
I want to thank you on my son's behalf for all the work you have done in order to liberate him from Azkaban. To show my gratitude, I would like to invite you to tea on July 21stat noon in order to discuss a charity ball to celebrate Draco's return home. I would like your help choosing a charity for which a generous donation would be made.Please let me know if you can attend.
Sincerely,
Narcissa Malfoy
Hermione frowned at this invitation. Somehow, it seemed like a cry for help. Narcissa Malfoy had an elegant handwriting and she had used a parchment of the highest quality for this small missive. Hermione doubted a woman like her needed any real help with choosing a charity. Nevertheless she grabbed a piece of clean parchment and, using a blue-inked pen, scribbled an accepting answer. She slipped it into an envelope and wrote on the address. As she put the letter aside, she noticed another envelope with Malfoy household's seal.
She cracked the seal. Her nostrils caught a gentle whiff of lemon and as she emptied the contents of the envelope on her desk, she found herself wishing for more. There was a piece of paper that someone had tried very hard to straighten.
Granger,
Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me. I wish it was just a dream.
Memories of you will light the way back home.
The words hardly made sense to Hermione. Pulling out the first letter from the Malfoy manor, she compared the handwriting. It was different, leaving only one other person this unsigned note could have come from – Draco Malfoy. She put it aside, deciding not to answer. What could she even say? "Please write again and be more concrete"? "I'm sorry, your mysterious note left me bewildered"? There wasn't anything to say.
She left her apartment to go to the owlery on Diagon Alley. She didn't have an owl and it cost very little to use the services. She made small talk with the witch in charge, paid a small fee (after insisting on it) and returned home, thinking once again how lucky she was to have found a place so perfect for her right on the border of both of her precious worlds.
Hermione cooked a light dinner and made herself a cup of tea. She could still smell the lemon even though the note hadn't been sprayed with anything. She glanced at her wristwatch and frowned. It was only 7pm. That's when she usually opened Malfoy's case to see if she had missed anything. It felt strange not to do that, so she sat down at her study and opened it anyway. There was nothing new and soon, the bright witch found herself wondering what Harry wasn't telling them. Why had Malfoy been released from Azkaban and put under house arrest? She made a mental note to ask Mrs Malfoy for specifics during their meeting. Harry had told them about as much as what was written in the Daily Prophet the following day. Mysterious sickness, concern for his well-being, suspicious circumstances that remain confidential during the preliminary inquiry into this matter.
It was still early when she retired to bed, unknowing that this would be the last time she'd get proper sleep in a long while. She would visit the Malfoy manor in a couple of days, hopefully avoid falling into hysterics there and find out what was going on with the current hot topic of the Daily Prophet, Draco Malfoy.
