Malfoy gave her chocolates when he returned from France.
It had a red and black cover with the words printed in elegant cursive. He had nudged it into her hand when they were walking together in the hallway back to their rooms.
"You like chocolates," he explained nonchalantly when she didn't say anything.
Hermione just looked at the gift, dazed and surprised. This was the first time they were alone after arriving at Hogwarts hours ago. The morning was filled with meetings and setting up their apartments and writing letters. Dawn had approached faster than she expected—the dark blue sky outside starting to get littered with tiny, twinkling stars.
"Speechless?" an amused chuckle left his throat.
Hermione looked up to meet his gaze, to argue with him that she wasn't speechless but rather, just taken back. However, when she met his gaze, those grey eyes, her thoughts shut down. She grasped that his eyes were darker than she envisioned though his skin remained the same pale alabaster even after he spent his summer in France. On the other hand, his voice was deeper and richer than she imagined while she had read through his letters throughout the summer.
She realised she missed those grey eyes and the baritone voice.
"I'm not speechless," she retorted but it lacked the usual conviction, "I'm just taken back—" she bit her lower lip, "—I don't have anything for you."
Hermione saw Malfoy's eyes flicker down to linger at her lips for a few seconds. He snapped them back to meet her eyes and shrugged. She peeled her gaze away from his eyes, cheeks flushing, pausing for a brief second before looking at him.
"Thanks, Draco," she saw his brow twitch slightly and a small smile formed on his lips immediately.
Later that night, in her apartment, she indulged in the chocolates. It was aromatic; a whip of roasted cocoa reaching her nostrils when she peeled away the packaging. The dark chocolate was smooth to touch and melted on her mouth, a delicious mix of creaminess and sweetness that exploded on her tongue. The first gulp of it massaged down her throat and Hermione decided that she had never tasted better chocolate in her life.
It almost felt decadent to indulge in them as she broke another piece and placed it on her tongue.
She didn't even have a sweet tooth when she was younger. She had strayed away from them since her parents had drilled her into mind about rotting eat and dental hygiene.
Even when she studied at Hogwarts, she only occasionally ate treacle tarts on special events and was actively appalled when students stuffed their faces with sweets. She even remembered grimacing at the sweets Draco received during breakfast, wondering why he needed more sweets along with the dessert the school provided. Now she preferred hot cocoa over tea.
It was the effect of the war.
Hermione was happy to choose chocolates and hot cocoa over alcohol. She knew way too many people who depended on burning firewhiskey to get through the night.
Tucking the chocolate away for the next couple of days, Hermione snuggled back into the couch with Crookshanks on her lap. Accio-ing the blanket Molly gave her, she spread it over her feet, sighing at the quiet comfort of life. Life was peaceful but not boring. She loved it.
Hermione has dreamt of Draco before. She had nightmares where he actually calls out on Harry at the manor instead of lying. Nightmares where he taunts her by calling her a 'mudblood' with his want pressed against her neck.
There were the nightmares of the day Bellatrix carved her forearm, her manic laughter ringing through the air while the others watched, snickering and Ron's shouting hollering from the dungeons.
She always saw him in that nightmare.
But like in reality, he looked terrified. His eyes were so hollow that she thought she was looking at the shell of a boy—terrified and tired.
It was that look, forever etched in her mind, which made Hermione conceive a space in her head to get to know him after the war.
Her dreams changed when she joined Hogwarts as a professor. She sometimes dreamt of the Great Hall and having breakfast with all the professors. Sometimes she dreamt of students with pig's tails and antlers. When her days get mixed up, she dreamt of Ginny and Harry attending her class.
She had laughed when she woke up after she dreamt of a swelled up Ginny with a quill in her hand, ready to take notes.
Those were absurd dreams and there were plenty. Of Filch turning into Mrs Norris—Hagrid running with Fang through the courtyard, playing fetch—Minerva changing into a cat and transforming back to scare students—An obedient Peeves—Draco wearing something other than black, grey or green—Draco drinking tea with his pinkie finger out—Draco waltzing with Crookshanks. There were plenty.
However this night her dream was different.
Draco and Hermione were in her bedroom, lying on the bed. She had the note that he gave her years ago and in her dreams, she was telling him about how much valued his note. She told him how she used to look at it after every ministry party because she wanted to get the bigotry out of her mind.
One minute they were talking and then the next minute, her hands were in his hair, their legs tangled and bodies flush together. Draco's breath was on her neck and his hands on her hip; fingers long and slender and moving back to grasp her arse.
She shifted her hip forward and slightly brushed her pelvic against his. He responded with a delicious groan.
She moaned when he reached down and sucked on the pulse on her neck. He continued leaving wet kisses on her neck, moving up before finally meeting her lips. She sighed into his kiss, opening her mouth to let him explore more.
His hands were on her breast, palming them over her thin nightdress and the next minute, his teeth are grazing her naked nipple while his hand was pushing her knickers aside, fingers plunging into her in a fast rhythm.
She's moaning and thrashing and screaming out his na—
Hermione blinked.
She blinked again.
The cool morning air entered her bedroom silently and the chirping of birds told her that she was dreaming minutes ago.
She had an erotic dream about Draco. Hermione groaned into her pillow, face flushing red and warm while she felt the familiar sensation between her legs.
She tried not to think about it when she met him for breakfast and almost succeeded in doing so when they reverted to their usual friendly banter and late-night talks with wine and hot cocoa.
The first month of school was nostalgic, a mixture of being a student and a teacher mixing together into a beautiful concoction as Hermione went through life.
Classes. Check. Contacting mom and dad. Check. Meeting up with friends. Check. Spending time with James Sirius Potter. Check. Tea with Andromeda and Teddy. Check.
It was one of the pleasant evenings where she was strolling down the empty hallways when she heard hushed murmurings from an alcove, partially hidden by a brown tapestry. Wondering why students needed to hide behind a tapestry to snog, considering that it wasn't time for curfew, Hermione attempted to walk past the tapestry as quietly as possible—least the students be alarmed—when she heard them.
"Shut the fuck up! You're kind shouldn't even be her—"
"My kind?! What the he—"
A snort, "You know exactly what I mea—"
A frustrated huff, "At least my kinds are not sadistic people rotting in Azkaban—"
There was a dangerous growl, "Why you fucking mudbl—"
Hermione pulled the tapestry aside to reveal a Ravenclaw boy and the same Hufflepuff girl who asked about the war. The boy was clutching the girl's shoulder, knuckles white, while the girl stood defiantly with her arms crossed over her chest.
Hermione glared at the scenario but before she could say anything, the familiar baritone drawl came from behind her.
"50 points from Ravenclaw and detention with Filch for the whole term."
The boy looked at the two professors, offering Hermione a mere glance but looking at Draco with a gaze that bordered on disappointment. He seemed stuck at being caught and she saw his hands tighten around the girl, making the Hufflepuff flinch.
Hermione glared at him, "Get your hands off her."
He let go like he touched fire and shoved his hands in his pockets. He grumbled something insensible under his breath and made a move to get away from the scene when Hermione blocked him.
"We're not done here. Apologise to her." She warned. He looked up to meet her vision, staring at her open-mouthed as if he was accused of a crime he didn't commit. He turned to look at Draco, eyes pleading. Draco donned the most neutral expression she has ever seen but his eyes were cold and lips curled—his look sending freezing fire through the prey's veins. Hermione felt the boy shutter under his gaze.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Hermione asked when the silence stretched too long, "We don't have all day."
The boy turned to the Hufflepuff and apologised through his teeth, jaws grinding like the words physically pained him. He ran away from the scene the moment Hermione stepped aside.
She immediately moved towards the girl, asking whether she hurt her shoulder. She got a nervous chuckle in response but before she could ask any more questions, the fourth year turned her head and looked at the other professor.
"Thank you, Professor Malfoy!"
Draco looked like he was about to open his mouth to say something, his eyes on the student's shoulder but he simply nodded at her, turned sharply on his feet and stride away.
Neither Hermione nor Draco brought up the incident afterwards. She felt that he wouldn't appreciate it, especially with her. There was too much history between them about that word. So she bit her lip when she met him later, hoping she wouldn't put her feet in her mouth and blurt out anything embarrassing. But she wasn't being oblivious enough when she kept glancing at him as they walked back to the teacher's quarters after dinner.
"Do you've anything to say?"
She looked at him, startled and eyes-wide, before shaking her head wildly. She berated herself for the lack of indifference. She was stuck and didn't know how to tread through the situation. And it made her uncomfortable—something she hasn't felt around him in a long time.
He made an apathetic sound and she couldn't decipher whether he was annoyed, angry or actually nonchalant. He was guarding his emotions, his face perfectly stoic. It made her even more uncomfortable.
"Okay"
She looked at him, at the perfectly stoic face with the guarded emotions before lamely saying, "Okay"
He made another apathetic sound.
"I'm not bothering you?" she blurted out and immediately bit her lip, hard.
He raised an eyebrow, glancing at her, "No" he replied coolly. He paused for a second before speaking, "But I can see you overanalysing everything in your head. Don't. It's going to do more damage."
"Okay" It was lame as the first one but she hoped that he understood. They walked in silence to their rooms.
"Stop giving Teddy weird muggle books."
Hermione turned to face him completely, stopping in her track. Although she appreciated the change of topic, the new topic was somewhat bizarre. Hands-on her hips, she gave him a stern look, "Weird books? Everything I give Teddy is age-appropriate."
She went through her mind on the innumerable amount of books that she gave the young boy, not recounting anything that might be improper and if she did, she was sure Andromeda would have told her so—since the older witch enjoyed reading all types of muggle books, irrespective of age bar.
Draco turned around to face her, "It's not about improperness of the book but the weird concepts. He hasn't stopped talking about a yellow teddy bear for weeks now."
Hermione looked at him, slightly amused, as he continued talking, "A yellow teddy bear who likes to eat honey! Then you gave him another book—the one about a witch and broomstick and cats flying on broomsticks. He's now asking me whether Hogwarts is like that. He asked me whether he could take a cat on a broomstick—" He stopped to give her an accusatory glare, "—you could've given him Fairy Tales. But no, and he has five books about the witch and cat on a broomstick."
She grinned at him, hands falling from her hip. When he continued looking at her incredulously, she burst into laughter. Draco in turn stared at her like she went crazy, eyeing her quizzically. He continued looking at her while she wheezed, tears spilling out of her eyes.
"It's not funny," she heard him say after a while as she was holding her stomach. She tried to calm down, not to embarrass him but as she looked at him, she couldn't help but let a crude and ungracious snort escape. She squeezed her eyes shut, cheeks hurting and tried to calm down.
"I just—it's just—those books are popular children's books." She explained calming down, "The book about the witch, I intended to buy only the first one for him. The rest of them were for Andromeda—she was really interested in muggle's idea of witches."
"Clearly," he replied drily.
"She must've given him the rest."
"I wholly agree" he drawled sarcastically.
"I'm not lying!" she shoots back but her cheeks were hurting from grinning again.
"Oh yeah, definitely"
Hermione snorted once again, "You hate the books?"
He clucked his tongue, "I haven't read the books. But the damn book put the idea of him riding a broomstick, possibly with a cat—which I'm against."
She raised her eyebrows in response.
"Teddy's as clumsy as a blindfolded drunken mule."
"You're worried about him."
He huffed in response which made her chuckle, "He's not that clum—"
Draco raised an eyebrow. Hermione rolled her eyes, "Okay, he's really clumsy but so was his mother yet she turned out to be a really good Auror. Besides, I'm planning on giving him a book about a freckled ginger head girl."
He looked like he was going to hex her but Hermione burst out into another fit of laughter.
"Draco, seriously, he's going to be fine." She said between laughter.
He scoffed in response, "You could've just stuck with fairy tales. Now I'm going to hear about how Weasley might be the protagonist in whatever book you give him."
She laughed again, imaging him listening to Teddy talk about the books he read. Curious she asked him, "What gifts do you give Teddy?"
There were a planned pause and a childish smirk on his face, "Mostly books"
"Hey!" she exclaimed stepping forward, "You give the same thing as I do and you're complaining?"
His childish smirk grew wider and Hermione jabbed in the stomach, making him chuckle.
"It's unfair, you fool!" she repeated stabbing his stomach and she heard him chuckle even louder. She looked up to give him the best impression of her glare but when she met his small smile and gleaming eyes—she felt momentarily lost.
Hermione felt his hand wrap around his wrist and she immediately noticed how warm they are. For somebody who was easily able to put a cold facade, she was surprised how warm his touches are—she didn't forget the warm fingers that touched her 'mudblood' scar years ago.
"I don't give books about ginger heads or about cats riding on broomsticks," he replied, a playful smirk on his lips and Hermione thought her heart missed a beat on hearing how low his voice was.
"Please, he loves my books," she retorted weakly but a quirky half-smirk played on her lips, "You're just jealous I give better books."
He lightly yanked on a strand of her hair, "Now, your head's growing bigger than that mane of yours."
She cocked an eyebrow, "Everybody knows that you're the puffed-up peacock, Draco."
He raises an eyebrow in return, "Really Hermione?"
It's was the first time she heard him call her first name and her heart skipped another beat on how her name sounded on his lips.
"Although I've to say, an albino ferret suits you better." She replied teasingly and smirked when he scoffed in response. Her curls were wrapped around his finger like in the quill shop and once again she noticed the hazelnut against alabaster. She noticed how slender and long his fingers are and she immediately drops her gaze to his other hand, still wrapped around her wrist. She wanted to interlock her fingers with his and lean in and hug him.
Feel his warmth.
Hermione almost groaned when pulled his hands away but she didn't say anything. There was something about touching Draco that always felt different—it wasn't like with Harry or Neville—but now she wanted to hug him and hold his hands. She wanted to feel his warmth. Hermione felt her cheeks flush at these thoughts.
"An albino ferret," she heard him drawl and she looked up once again.
"An albino ferret," she confirms.
"Insufferable-know-it-all" he muttered and she tilted her head slightly.
"Archaic" she responds and he shrugged.
"You brought up old names"
"I added a creative twist to an old name" she retorted haughtily. He looked at her in amusement.
"The swottiest lioness"
She looks at him for a moment before a smile broke on her lips, "A ferret and a lioness."
"A ferret and a lioness," he confirms.
She laughed once again.
On the second week of October, Hermione visited her godson. It was almost noon and with Harry still at the ministry; Hermione and Ginny felt it was the perfect time for some girls' time—something they haven't indulged in since James's birth.
Their house was messier now, with baby blankets strewn everywhere, a bunch of nappies on the couch, two empty bottles on the kitchen counter and different toys scattered on the ground. Hermione concluded that Molly hadn't visited them for a while looking over at the mess.
"Ginny?" she called out when she didn't see her redhead friend.
"In here! The nursery 'Mione!"
Hermione's heart melted a little when she reached the doorway. Ginny singing to her son as she breastfeeds him while rocking back and forth in the big, wooden chair with the purple cushions, the most comfortable cushions made by Molly.
"He got a bit fussy," Ginny said as she starting burping him and both of them walked towards the living room. With a wave of her wand, she tidied up the mess as Hermione went to the kitchen to make the tired mother some tea.
"Malfoy does hang out with Teddy and Andromeda," Ginny said conversationally as they sat down and sipped their drinks—tea for Ginny and hot cocoa for Hermione.
Hermione hummed in response. Ginny looked at her for a moment, almost studying her, before placing James on the crib near the couch who only giggled happily and stared at the plush toy of a snitch next to him.
"I still don't get it."
"Don't get what?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.
Ginny deadpanned, "You know what I'm talking about. How did you two become friends?"
Hermione shrugged before slowly starting, "We shared a dormitory with Neville and Hannah, and the four of us would study together." She paused, "Malfoy and I talked about things we did while we were younger and about the war. Things people didn't want to talk about." Hermione explained, "This was while we were at Hogwarts. Then we met years later and it was really easy to pick things up."
Ginny looked at her, somewhat sceptically.
"People change after the war. The war changed him." Hermione added softly.
Ginny looked at her, expression softening before she looked at her son, "I remember him throwing his wand to Harry for the final battle. I know war changes people." She looked at Hermione, chuckling, "I was surprised you did so well for your N.E. after everything."
Ginny looked at her son, brushing a strand of black hair away from his forehead, "I'm happy that there's no more war. I don't think I want James to ever go through that. It remains in your mind—the memories—they never really go away." She looked at Hermione, "War affects people don't they? Especially for the next couple of years."
"I know"
"Harry used to wake up kicking and screaming while you were at Hogwarts and I used to throw up after nightmares." Ginny added, "Ron shut down, didn't he?"
Hermione shifted in her seat and simply nodded, "He did. He didn't want to be reminded of it. A lot of people in school were like that."
"Really?"
Hermione nodded, "Everybody wanted normalcy. So they kept quiet about it and continued with life. It was like an Erumphet in the room when somebody burst out into tears during breakfast."
"You know, I thought about returning to Hogwarts with you but when I saw the grounds..." Ginny quietened.
"You started crying."
Ginny nodded. The two witches fell silent, the small gurgling noise of James filling the air.
"Hermione, can I ask you something about the war?" Ginny asked after a moment.
"Yeah," Hermione told almost everything to Ginny, so it was surprising that she asked her that.
"At the Malfoy manor," Ginny started, paused for any reaction and when Hermione reassured her, continued, "Wasn't Malfoy with you while Harry and Ron were in the dungeon?"
Did he see you get tortured?
Hermione swallowed thickly and nodded. She didn't talk about the manor skirmish much to anybody. She looked at the cup in her hand before speaking, "Yeah, he was." She looked at Ginny, "At one point I looked at him because I thought he would do something. He lied about not recognising Harry. But he looked terrified." He looked like a shell-like a background decoration among the death eaters and snatchers."
Hermione stopped, sipped her tea.
"They were laughing, the snatchers. Lucius complained to Bellatrix that there was a mudblood's blood tainting the manor floor—"
"He what?!" Ginny shouted, eyes lighting up with fire, "Hermione you never said anything about that."
James started whining at his mother's shouting and Ginny immediately took the baby in her hand, comforting him. She turned to face Hermione, her voice strained, "You never told us about that."
"He was immediately taken to Azkaban remember? Life sentence." Hermione replied, "For a long time I thought I was imagining that but Draco later told me that it actually happened."
A bitter breath escaped through Ginny's clenched teeth and she breathed deeply, closing her eyes, "If I see him in the afterlife, I'll Avada-ka him." She gritted her teeth, "Bloody bastard."
"Ginny! Language!"
Ginny rolled her eyes before muttering sweet words to James's ears who wriggled at the ticklish sensation. The mother waited patiently for her friend to continue.
"He, Draco, looked terrified, frozen in place. He—" Hermione looked at Ginny, "looked dead. Like he was fed up with everything. I thought he was going to cry at the end."
Hermione sipped her drink again, "After we started talking, I got angry at him about it once—I yelled at him after I had a nightmare about the manor. Called him a coward, asked him why he didn't do anything and asked him whether he also thought my blood was tainting the floor—" Hermione's voice broke at the end.
It was a couple of months after they started talking during their 8th year. It was explosive from her part. Looking back, Hermione knew she started caring about him after the war and part of her felt betrayed that he didn't do anything then. It was irrational, she knew that, but she was crumbling along with other people.
"And he just sat there and didn't say anything. He listened to me rant and blame him," Hermione paused again, "I knew he would've gotten killed if he did anything. Not identifying Harry was a death wish already. Then I found out that he and his family got tortured for letting us escape. But I only found that out weeks later after my explosive episode." her voice broke again, "I don't think he even wanted to tell me that—he was angry at something and just vented out all the things he went through during the war."
It was then that both of them started talking about the skirmish in detail from their perspectives—and the war. Hermione found out why Draco lied; the Vanishing cupboard; the crucio he was forced to put on people by Voldemort; the crucio he was forced to endure and he found out about the horcrux hunt; Ron walking out on them; Antolohov's curse; the chamber of secrets; R.A.B and everything else. It was then that Draco touched her scar and cried. The time when they broke down and cried, hugging.
She realised then how much he regretted his actions. How contrite he was.
She learned to forgive him then.
"The thing is we acknowledged our past and I've forgiven him. Even if it was difficult." Hermione concluded.
Ginny nodded in understanding and offered Hermione a smile. She hummed a song to James and Hermione finished her drink quietly.
"You know, I'm happy you found somebody to help you." Ginny said after a while, "Ron wasn't very helpful during that time."
Hermione gave a nervous smile. She couldn't blame him; he had his own way of dealing with things. But he and Hermione didn't talk about the war the way Ginny and she talked. Draco was the one who knew everything—even more than Ginny. It had taken Ron and Hermione years to talk about it and by then everything was crumbling.
"I'm not angry that you broke up with him," Ginny said, "I understand."
Hermione offered her a thankful smile, "Thanks, Ginny."
Ginny waved her free hand, "I'm going back to work in 2 months. I'll hex Skeeter for you."
Hermione laughed, "The bat-bogey hex?"
Ginny gave a grin that competed with George's before he wreaked havoc. Hermione laughed. They fell into comfortable conversation, mostly talking about James and children. It was after a couple of hours that Ginny brought up her date.
"Harry and I are going on a date." Ginny said, "Can you look after James for a couple of hours?"
"Sure. When?"
"Next Saturday. Andromeda agreed to look after him but with Teddy—you know"
"It's difficult," Hermione chuckled, "So at Andromeda's next Saturday for a couple of hours? Four to eight?"
"Nope, six to eleven"
Hermione cocked an eyebrow at her and Ginny gave a mischievous look that said 'what?' before both the witches laughed.
"Really, Hermione thanks. With mum and dad visiting Charlie, you're the best option. George's inviting something new so he's off the list."
"So the other godparent remains."
Ginny giggled, "You're the best."
James started whining in the crib and Hermione took him this time. While she was softly bouncing the baby in her arms, Ginny asked, "Is Malfoy like Snape?"
Hermione snorted, "Nope. Students like him and although I hate to admit, Draco's a good professor. He's sarcastic to a fault. Snape was too but you know."
"I can't believe Teddy likes him"
Hermione glanced at Ginny, "It's the books. He gives him books."
Ginny rolled her eyes, "Another reason why Teddy's turning into a bookworm."
"I give him fiction." She scoffed, "And Draco told me I give him weird muggle books."
"Weird muggle books?" Ginny looked puzzled, before anger flashed through her eyes, "He doesn't want Ted to read muggle books?"
"No, not like that," Hermione countered before Ginny runs off and hex him. Hermione realised then that she never thought of him as somebody holding blood supremacy ideas anymore and a small smile crept upon her lips.
She shook her head lightly, chuckling as she explained to Ginny, "I gave Teddy a muggle book about witches and cat on broomsticks."
"Why?" Ginny donned a baffled expression.
Hermione shrugged, "It's a popular muggle book." She gave her friend a toothy grin, "I'm going to give him a book about a freckled red-headed girl."
Ginny rolled her eyes before laughing.