"I'm not surprised in the least, you know."
Ginny hadn't even waited for Hermione to finish sitting down at the Gryffindor table to say it. The redhead was wearing an inscrutable expression, today's edition of The Daily Prophet clutched in one hand as she spooned cheesy eggs onto her plate with the other.
Around them, the Great Hall looked spotless as ever—certainly not as if it had been nearly blown apart just one week ago. The windows had been replaced, the entrance rebuilt, and the scorch marks cleared. Yet the hall looked emptier than ever—and it wasn't just due to the early hour.
In the aftermath of last week's attack, there had been an understandable influx of panicked parents pulling their children out of Hogwarts out of fear for their safety. Hermione couldn't exactly blame them. Shaking off her morose train of thought, she poured herself some water before responding to her friend.
"I assume you're talking about the front-page story the Prophet probably decided to run this morning? The one that most likely insinuates some sort of twisted romance between Draco and I, complete with photographic evidence?"
Ginny nodded and opened her mouth to respond, but Hermione continued before she had a chance to speak.
"Because it's true, you know."
A 6th year Gryffindor sitting within hearing distance choked on her pumpkin juice upon hearing Hermione's words, but Ginny remained unphased. There were too few other Gryffindors at breakfast this early for them to have heard, but Hermione wouldn't have minded if they had—she wanted the news to spread. Some defiant part of her wanted to dare anyone to tell her of all people who she could and couldn't spend her time and affections on, sordid pasts be damned.
"If you'd seen how worried about you Malfoy was when all hell broke loose here last week—if you'd seen how desperate he was to get help, then you'd understand why I'm not surprised to hear that. It's obvious he cares for you."
Stunned yet extremely curious, Hermione asked, "What exactly did he do that day... after I was knocked out? You've told me what happened in general, but not specifically about him."
Ginny pointed towards the far end of the Slytherin table, "Malfoy was sitting over there when it happened."
She then drew her finger towards the center of the room between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, "And when you landed over there... we both practically clawed our way over to you. I got there first because I had less obstacles in my way. I still don't know how he was able to find us so quickly—it was absolute chaos... Although I was able to cast Scouring and Bubble Head charms on you and me, we were nearly trampled in the process. He managed to haul both of us up from the ground and out of the way."
Ginny shuddered and took a bite of her eggs and a hearty swig of her pumpkin juice before she continued speaking. In the meantime, Hermione gazed at the center of the room, trying to visualize what her friend was describing.
"It's bizarre how apparent it was, really, considering we were all deafened and dazed by the explosion. Despite all that shock, Malfoy was so focused on you, so torn when he realized there was nothing more he could do to help you in that moment. It's part of the reason I respect him more now."
I underestimated Ginny, Hermione mused, immensely pleased by her friend's intuition.
"He was so torn between wanting to help you and wanting to help the younger students around us who were defenseless against the effects of Nocturne. I didn't think Slytherins were capable of altruism towards anyone but themselves, if I'm being honest. But anyone who saw him make the choice to help those students in the aftermath of the explosion—despite his clear desire to stay with you—would be hard-pressed to make that argument."
Hermione's heart melted upon hearing Ginny's recounting of the events she hadn't been conscious to witness. Sure, there was trauma there, too. Mountains of it had accumulated in her psyche over the past year, along with plenty other less than positive emotions.
But to hear about Draco's dilemma, to know that he'd been so concerned not only for her, but for other students in a moment when others may have been too panicked or frightened to think clearly... It only made her affection for him grow. Mountains of that emotion had also accumulated in her psyche over the past few months—the vast majority of it directed towards the platinum-haired wizard she now called her boyfriend.
The thought caused a small grin to form on Hermione's lips, and a bolt of desire to travel through her, but she tried to remain focused on the conversation at hand.
"Gin, thanks for understanding. And even though you're tired of hearing it, thank you so much for looking out for me last week."
Ginny's lips quirked slightly, "Of course, 'Mione. It's not me you should be worried about, in any case. It's my brother—you know that."
Hermione groaned, "I sent letters to both Ron and Harry last night with an explanation, just so they'd hear it from me first instead of the papers. But I... erm... haven't heard back from either of them yet."
Ginny patted her arm sympathetically, "I don't expect them to understand right away—they weren't there, they didn't see what I did. Just give them some time."
Hermione nodded and chewed on her lip, wondering just how angry her two best friends would be upon hearing that she'd been the one to initiate a relationship with their former archnemesis. She hoped their next conversation wouldn't be too fraught with tension. And yet, as tired as she was of conflict lately, Draco was a point of contention she would gladly argue over all day with her best friends if necessary. She hoped Harry and Ron trusted her judgement enough to listen to her in this case, but she really couldn't be sure. Draco was obviously a sore subject for all of them.
Still... he's worth it.
Lulled into a sense of normalcy by the steady progression of her morning and her conversation with Ginny at breakfast, Hermione distractedly made her way up to McGonagall's office during her free period at second hour. She and Draco would be meeting with the Headmistress and a few Aurors to discuss Nott's trial and their next steps. She ignored the curious and incredulous stares that followed her, knowing news of her entanglement with Draco had probably spread far and wide by now.
Let them gossip, she thought mulishly.
As she climbed the various staircases that led to the Headmistress' office on the top floor of the tower adjacent to this particular part of the castle, her mind drifted to the previous night.
After dinner Draco had joined her in front of the hearth in their common room so they could work on their homework together. They'd levitated their largest sofa closer to the fire, had made some tea, and had curled up next to each other with their school books and writing supplies in hand. As an afterthought, Hermione had flicked on the wireless to play classical music quietly in the background. Crookshanks had, of course, insisted upon shoving his way between them so that he was surrounded by body heat on both sides, and had purred the entire time. Both of them had rolled their eyes at his antics but had allowed it.
It had been such a silly, domestic scene, yet it had been perfect precisely because it had been so long since Hermione felt at ease enough to truly relax and enjoy such quotidian distractions. Despite their shared dark history, the atmosphere between her and Draco had been light and warm, with an undercurrent of anticipation. The thought of it caused her to blush slightly.
I suppose there's a lot more on the table with him now that–
She was torn from her thoughts when a familiar voice called from her right, "Hermione!"
Startled, she drew her wand only to turn and see Harry walking towards her. Relieved to see him despite his pinched expression, she sheathed her wand and smiled at him.
"Harry! It's obviously wonderful to see you, but what are you doing here?" she asked in confusion.
He had the decency to look sheepish as he guided her into the unused classroom nearest them, but a slight grimace remained on his face.
"We already had Ministry business here today, so we decided we were due for some one-on-one time with you," he answered with frustrating ambiguity.
As they entered the classroom, she noted Ron pacing near the center of the room looking clearly agitated. As happy as she was to see them both, their behavior didn't bode well for this encounter. With a deep sigh, she summoned a chair towards herself, transfigured it into something a little more comfortable, and sat down before speaking again.
"Let me guess," she said pointedly as Harry closed the door behind them, "Instead of writing back, you both decided to express your disapproval in person. Is that it?"
Harry sighed and made to respond, but Ron beat him to it.
"I'm not going to beat around the bush, 'Mione. After what you've been through in the past few months, I'm not convinced you're in your right mind anymore," he said bluntly.
All thoughts of diplomacy and patience fled Hermione's mind at Ron's insulting declaration, and she very nearly saw red. Harry cut in before she could respond.
"Ron, that's out of line, and you know it," he said sharply. "You promised you'd think before speaking."
Ron ignored him and took a step closer to Hermione.
"The only way you'd be interested in Malfoy is if you'd been brainwashed or coerced. Given the experimental magic the Sons of Salazar are known for, how do we know you're not under someone else's influence?"
Hermione gaped at Ron, feeling beyond hurt.
"That's beyond the pale! How dare you?!" she asked, enraged and having half a mind to hex him.
"How dare I what, 'Mione? How dare I care about you?! How dare I question behavior that is completely unlike you?!"
The steel in her friend's eyes, the conviction in his voice told her he truly thought what he was doing was for the best—perhaps even in her best interests. Swallowing down the immense swell of disappointment she now felt towards the wizard she'd once trusted with her heart, she felt a wall forming between them, and felt helpless to stop it for the time being. On some remote level, she could appreciate that he thought he was caring for her, but in all the ways that mattered to her, it felt like a slap in the face.
Her movements feeling wooden, she turned towards Harry and asked, "And you?"
Harry's expression contained a fascinating combination of beseeching apology, deep concern, and roaring fury.
Throwing a glare in Ron's direction, he bit out, "There's no indication you were ever under the influence of magical behavioral modifications, Hermione. I don't agree at all with what Ron's implying. It wasn't my intention to make baseless accusations against you today... although I do have to wonder if you've lost your mind. Ron's transgressions aside—Malfoy, Hermione? Really?"
"I don't expect either of you to understand the appeal I see in Draco. Suffice it to say that I've seen him at his worst now, and at his best. And despite it all, I trust him—I trust in the person he's become. I'm not asking you to like him. I'm just asking that you trust in my decision, and give it time."
Ron scoffed, seemingly at her use of Draco's first name, but she ignored him and continued speaking.
"Let me make my own decisions, terrible as you may think they are. Let me fail, if that's what it takes. But godsdamnit, let me at least try to be happy. Why is it so wrong for me to want that?"
By the time she was done speaking, she had tears streaming down her face, and arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. Distantly, she felt glad she'd had the foresight to transfigure something more comfortable for what she'd known would be a difficult conversation.
Hesitantly, Harry reached out to her and murmured, "Herm–"
Seeming to be stuck somewhere between lost, angry and concerned, Ron cut him off, albeit in a softer and more broken tone than he'd used so far.
"Weren't you happy with me?" he asked in a small voice.
Hermione froze, unable to meet Ron's eyes. Lost, she fixed her gaze down as tears dripped onto her lap, not knowing how to tell Ron that no, she hadn't been happy with him—not as lovers, and certainly not as life partners. Fortunately Harry prevented her from having to tell him that so bluntly.
"That's not fair Ron, and you know it. You promised you'd be better than this, promised you wouldn't antagonize her. Why are you doing this?"
Ron's pacing became quicker, his fidgeting more agitated. He shook his head.
"I just don't want to believe it. That good for nothing prat—how could you choose him over me, Hermione?!"
With tears continuing to stream down her face, she clenched her hands and gritted out, "I'm not going to sit here and take this from you. I was on my way to a meeting with McGonagall, and right now that's much more important than sitting here and pointlessly arguing with someone I thought was one of my best friends."
Harry interjected with a guilty tone, "Actually, we're supposed to be in that meeting, too. It's how I knew where to intercept you just now."
Incensed, Hermione shook her head incredulously and pushed herself to her feet. She used her robes to dab at the tear tracks on her cheeks, then cast a few charms on her face to try to erase evidence of the fact that she'd been crying just now. She knew her efforts would probably be in vain, but it was the best she could do given her present circumstances.
"I don't have anymore time for this idiocy," she muttered, detransfiguring her seat and levitating it back to its proper place.
"Oh, but you have time for that Slytherin arsehole," Ron shot back from behind her after she'd turned to leave the room.
"Ron, for fuck's sake!" Harry shouted from beside him, shaking his head furiously.
She stilled, then turned to face the idiot redhead she currently had the misfortune of calling a friend—certainly not a best friend at the moment, not after what had been said in this room. She wasn't even sure she could consider him a friend at all after everything he'd said to her today.
"I wouldn't expect you to understand why I chose him, Ronald. You've shown time and time again that all you care about is revenge and vindication, and I've seen more than enough of those loathsome qualities in my lifetime, thank you very much. Merlin forbid I'm attracted to a wizard whose range of emotional intelligence extends beyond that of a flobberworm!"
He began sputtering a response, "That's not–"
She cut him off, "Do you know who you remind me of today, in all your hateful glory? You remind me of the bigots who hurl insults at me every time I leave a trial at the Ministry."
With bitter resentment, she added, "Draco Malfoy may have once been a prat, and an absolutely terrible example of a human being, but he's grown into someone I'm proud to call my boyfriend, Ronald. After everything you, Harry, and I have gone through together, I would have hoped you'd trust my judgement enough to give my choices a chance. You obviously had different ideas today, though. Above all, I can't believe you'd try to use the trauma and torture I've experienced against me. Fuck you for that, Ronald."
Dismissing him with hurt raging in her heart, her gaze turned to Harry who was staring at them both with wide eyes.
"Are you ready to go?"
Wearing a remorseful expression, he nodded and glanced nervously at Ron, who'd turned a deep shade of red.
"I–I'm so sorry Hermione, I didn't... I didn't expect this conversation to go this way," Harry said quietly, clearly ashamed of the part he'd played in this trainwreck of a reunion.
She chose not to respond to his apology, and instead turned to leave the room. Both Harry and Ron followed after her silently. Although Ron attempted to speak to her after a few minutes, she tuned him out on their way up the tower. She'd had quite enough of his idiotic attempts at communication for now. Thankfully he got the hint and stopped trying once they reached the last, gargoyle-guarded stairwell that led to McGonagall's office.
She wasn't sure how he knew anything was amiss, but Draco's aloof expression bled into one of concern once his eyes landed on her face as they walked into the Headmistress' office. Thankfully, he didn't say anything about it, nor did McGonagall. She was also grateful when Draco chose not to acknowledge the clear hostility that was emanating towards him from Ron despite the clear importance of this meeting. It was disappointing just how low her ex-boyfriend and supposed friend had been willing to sink today. She cast all thoughts of his folly out of her mind for the time being, and focused on McGonagall, who had started speaking once they took their seats by Draco in front of her desk.
"Thank you all for joining me today. As you know, yesterday with the conclusion of Theodore Nott's trial, we finished with the first out of at least a dozen criminal trials related to the Sons of Salazar that will be taking place in the coming weeks."
She stopped to gesture at Hermione and Draco, "As I'm sure you both noticed, the crowd both inside and outside the courtroom was especially raucous."
Hermione nodded grimly, silently agreeing as she thought back to just how tumultuous everyone had seemed yesterday morning. It had been even worse than anything she'd experienced or seen at the Death Eater trials.
"As it turns out, at least ten of the loudest people in that crowd were under the Imperius curse, according to subsequent Auror investigations that continue into this morning," McGonagall said.
"We know this because of intelligence we gathered from our interrogations of Quartius Parkinson, although he wasn't the one to cast the curses. We were extremely lucky to have taken him by surprise thanks to your discoveries last week."
Hermione was stunned by the news that she and Draco had been surrounded by potential bad actors in the chaos of yesterday's trial. Nausea began to churn in her stomach as she realized just how badly things could have gone for them if the Imperiused members of that crowd had been programmed to do something other than spew hateful vitriol at them. She shivered at the thought of it, and from the corner of her eye noticed Draco glance in her direction. She saw the exact moment when he decided to disregard the consequences, and reached towards her.
Too overcome with the relentless buzz of anxiety at the thought of the danger they'd skirted yesterday, she hesitantly reached to take his hand, resting their intertwined fingers on her armrest. From the corner of her eye, she saw Harry's eyes widen and Ron's expression morph into a conflagration of ire, but she was sick of pussyfooting around things. What better way to show her two best friends she was serious? And what better way to find some semblance of calm right now? Draco's hand squeezed hers comfortingly as McGonagall continued speaking.
"Thanks to recent research breakthroughs within the Department of Mysteries, and thanks to the experimental nature of the Imperius curses being used by the Sons of Salazar, it's become tentatively possible to trace the magical signatures of certain curses back to their organization in general, and even back to their specific casters in some scenarios."
Intrigued, Hermione perked up at the news, "Is that how the Aurors were able to detect the Imperius at all yesterday, Headmistress? Because of these breakthroughs at the Department of Mysteries?"
McGonagall nodded, "Yes, that's correct Hermione. In fact, it's the only reason such a disorderly crowd of onlookers was allowed to form in the first place, so we could passively scan those present for magical forms of interference. Normally Aurors would never allow such a contentious group to crowd in around you quite that closely—I do hope it wasn't too much for you, dear. Beyond the Aurors that were escorting you two, there were plenty of undercover Aurors and scouts nearby to step in if needed."
The older woman directed her last few words at Hermione with a remorseful lilt in her voice.
Hermione was quick to reassure her, "It was nothing we weren't able to handle, Headmistress."
With a weary sigh, Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose before dropping her hand and her gaze to her desk.
"I'm glad to hear it. This brings me to the considerable number of upcoming criminal trials that remain. It goes without saying that yesterday's vociferous crowd was a message from the Sons of Salazar. It's unclear if they know that we know they used the Imperius so liberally yesterday, but the outspoken antics of the crowd were clearly meant to send a warning. I'm not sure either of you realized it at the time you volunteered your services, but this is what it will look like to contribute materially to the investigation and prosecution of the Sons of Salazar in the coming weeks."
Hermione's hand squeezed Draco's at the reminder, but she said nothing. It was now Draco who chose to speak up.
"Headmistress, do you mean to say we're still expected to testify at these trials despite the potential danger we now know it poses?"
McGonagall nodded gravely and met his gaze head-on.
"Yes, that is precisely what I mean to say, Draco," she said baldly. "To put it bluntly, despite my reservations, the Ministry would like you to continue testifying at these trials to draw out more of these bad actors. They think it's the quickest way to bring down the Sons of Salazar, and much as it pains me to admit it, I agree with them."
Hermione figured both Harry and Ron were already aware of these developments, otherwise they would have had many more questions and reservations about this plan to essentially use her and Draco as bait. Then again, they were Aurors now, and she supposed after a certain point they had no choice but to step in line if they wanted to have long careers in law enforcement.
Harry chose this moment to speak up. He directed his words towards Hermione with overdone professionalism, as if trying to distance himself from their earlier debacle.
"That's actually why we're here. We've been tasked with helping you set up a better way of traveling to and from the Ministry for these upcoming trials. With Headmistress McGonagall's help, we'll be temporarily enabling Floo privileges for the fireplace in your shared common room. You'll be Flooing into a private fireplace at the Ministry so we can better control your exposure to crowds outside of the courtroom."
Hermione tensed at the thought that their fireplace would be connected to the Floo network, irrationally afraid that someone with ill intent would find a way to transport themselves into the place that was supposed to be her sanctuary. Draco's thumb began its customary journey around the back of her hand when her hand spasmed around his.
As if sensing her growing tension, and apparently having collected himself enough to engage in the present conversation without resorting to churlish insults, Ron responded lowly, "Don't worry, 'Mione. Those Floo capabilities will only be enabled during the windows of time that correspond to each trial. No one will be able to go in or out of your rooms through your fireplace without the Ministry knowing about it."
Hermione's shoulders sagged slightly, but she couldn't find it in her to relax completely, nor did she dignify Ron with a response. Logically she knew there was no reason to worry now that he had clarified how the Floo connection would work, but the news of how freely the Sons of Salazar seemed to use the Imperius curse had shaken her faith that they would follow any of the traditional rules of engagement moving forward. Still, she knew that couldn't intimidate her into not testifying, and wouldn't dream of letting this revelation scare her into silence.
No, it only makes me want to roar louder, she thought thunderously.
After finishing up in McGonagall's office, their group made their way to the Heads' common room to set up the temporary Floo functionality in the fireplace there. It had been beyond awkward to have Draco, Ron, Harry, and McGonagall together in such a small enclosed space. McGonagall, bless her heart, had chosen not to remark on the palpable tension permeating the air despite the glares and thinly veiled insults Ron kept slinging at Draco, and the sneers he'd received in return. Hermione had been surprised at the restraint Draco had shown despite Ron's obvious attempts to provoke him.
It would be an understatement to say her goodbyes with Harry and Ron had been stilted, and it had been a relief when everyone had finally vacated the common room. Even Draco had briefly retreated to his room to freshen up, but he'd be returning soon enough. Hermione removed her robes, her stockings, and her shoes, and threw herself onto the sofa with a whoosh and a groan when she was finally alone. Thursdays were one of her lightest days in terms of school workload. Her next class—a double block of Transfiguration—wasn't for another two hours.
She should have been better prepared for the chaos of today, should have known there'd be hell to pay for the solidarity she and Draco had shown yesterday, and for the relationship she'd decided to confirm today with some of her closest friends. Yet she remained indignant at the thought that she should have to answer for choosing to see the best in someone who'd done everything in his power to do better.
It's as if people don't actually want those who make mistakes to learn from them, she thought darkly. What's the point of punishment without betterment? Without the latter you're no better than Sisyphus.
She must have fallen half-asleep while staring at the fire because the next thing she knew, Draco was gently lifting her legs and sliding to sit underneath them. Startled, Hermione made to move her legs off the sofa to make room for him, but Draco held them trapped on his lap.
"No, stay here for a few minutes," he said plaintively, "I can see the toll the past few weeks have taken on you, and I can tell how much this morning took out of you, despite how good you are at hiding it. Just rest here for a bit with me, love."
With a sigh, Hermione conceded and relaxed into the cushions and into Draco's light touch. She should have been overcome with self-consciousness right about now, given that she'd removed her robes, shoes, and stockings earlier, and was left wearing only her skirt and button-up blouse. In her current position, she was exposing far more leg than she would have ordinarily felt comfortable with.
If I can't show some skin with my boyfriend of all people in the privacy of our own common room, then who—if anyone—should get to see it? Just my healers? Of course not! she thought mutinously. We're both adults now, for Merlin's sake!
Draco was lazily running his fingers along her exposed calves, and although he was staying well within the realm of innocent touches, his fingers still left a trail of fire in their wake as they dragged lightly against her skin. Her skin heated upon realizing how closely his lazy touch mimicked the beginning of the first and only dirty dream she'd had featuring him so far. Goosebumps erupted along her skin at the reminder, and her cheeks warmed further at the thought that she was free to reach out and make that vision a reality anytime now, if she felt so inclined.
Seeming to notice the effect his touch had on her, and obviously galvanized by her lack of objections, it only took another minute or two before Draco's soothing touch had begun to slowly make its way increasingly farther up Hermione's leg. The progression of his fingers past the bend of her knee, the light tickle of his touch along the lower part of her thigh and then higher up at the boundary where the edge of her skirt met her skin—it was intoxicating.
"Do you like this, love?" he asked in a hoarse voice.
"Mmmhmm, yes, of course I do," she murmured sleepily, feeling boneless and drifting happily in a somnolent daze.
As much as she wanted to think longer upon the carnal promise in the heat of his touch, she was too overcome by the intense relaxation of this moment to push past the languor that began to weigh heavily upon her eyelids. His soft touches along her leg were making her crave the sort of intimacy she'd experienced with him in her lucid dream. Yet in this moment, the feeling of safety his presence provided was enough to let her push those thoughts of intimacy to the side for now. She simply allowed herself to appreciate the careful touch of the wizard who'd captured her heart, and felt herself falling further for him in the process.
A/N: I'm incredibly relieved that you all were eventually able to read chapter 18, even if it came a few days late thanks to mysterious website bugs on FF\dot\net! Thanks for your patience and your continued love for this story. As odd as it sounds, reader feedback wasn't one of the original reasons I decided to start publishing my writing online, but it's become a huge source of motivation for me. I would be writing with or without the attention, but your kind words make it so much more fulfilling!