"But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them for ever."
Draco wandered out of the fencing club in a daze, Theo's words playing over and over in his head: definitely not involved with him... never has been… don't even think they're friends... As the snippets ran through his mind, he felt a sense of lightness steal over him and was conscious of being in a better mood than he had been in a long while. Must have been the exercise, he told himself, smiling slightly as he headed home.
Opening the door to his flat, Draco was still lost in thought when he was assaulted from the side by a small whirlwind.
"Draco, Draco, Draco! I'm so glad you're home," said a high, sweet voice. "How was fencing and how is my favourite?"
Draco's felt his face relax into a smile as he beheld the small person clinging to his waist. She was all huge dark eyes and short, spiky black hair, the polar opposite of her tall, blonde sister.
"Hello, my Astor." He bent down to kiss her cheek. "Fencing was satisfying. Theo is well. He sends his love. How has your day been?"
"Daph and I went record-shopping in muggle London and it was brilliant. I brought home loads of cool things. We'll have a listening party later!" She twirled him around in a little dance and he let her. No one could get him to bend his dignity as easily as Astoria could.
He steadied her shoulders and looked into her face, searching for something there. She'd come into his life just after the war when he was still a shell of a person. Daphne's much younger sister, an orphaned casualty of the conflict. Her parents' will had contained an ancient and magically binding clause decreeing that if their minor child were left parentless, guardianship would pass to the male heir of the line.
Everyone else male in their entire tangled family tree had died or disappeared, but Draco. So to his extreme surprise he was informed that he had become the guardian of a six year old girl at 18 years of age. And Daphne's sister no less. He had immediately appointed Daph co-guardian and they had effectively become Astoria's parents from then on.
Helping to raise and guide her had transformed him in many ways, saved him really. He'd been smitten the moment she raised her dark eyes and small arms up to him the first time they met. From then on he'd been very actively involved in her life, despite his mother's suggestion that they ship her off to some distant Greengrass cousins in the North.
After he and Daphne had roundly rejected that idea, Astoria had come to live with them at their flat in London—and at Theo's, and his aunt's in France. She'd been raised cheerfully by committee. The day she'd first ridden the train to Hogwarts had been the most bittersweet of his life. And she'd done so well at school—sorted into Ravenclaw and quickly singled out for her kindness and musical talent.
The day last winter when he'd received a patronus from Minerva McGonagall informing him that she was missing had been his worst nightmare come true. They'd all been frantic and rushed to Scotland, where, thank gods, she'd been found quickly and physically unharmed.
But the damage had been profound.
Minerva had had to disarm Draco to stop him dealing Wickham the killing curse and then it had taken all Theo's strength to pull him off the other wizard. In the end they'd let Wickham go because nothing could be proven and Astoria wouldn't speak of it, except to repeat that she went with him willingly. The feeling was that bringing anything before the Wizengamot would harm her all over again. And Draco largely blamed himself because the whole sordid episode was clearly a revenge plot aimed at him.
He still couldn't think about it without wanting to throw up or break something, preferably several of Wickham's bones. The only reason he didn't hex the absolute cunt into oblivion each time he saw him was because when Astoria started talking again she had calmly and seriously told Draco and Daphne that the best thing they could do for her was to put it behind them. She had been all of 16 years old.
She'd eventually come back to them—slowly and not quite the same as she had been before. Leaving Hogwarts had helped, and she had declared she would never go back. Going to his aunt's in France for a long rest this spring had also soothed her. Then she had finally recovered enough to ask to enroll at Beauxbatons in the autumn and to come to London in the meantime, which he took as a good sign—although had he known Wickham was here he would never have allowed it.
For a while noise and activity had overwhelmed her, so the fact that she'd willingly gone into the city today was extremely encouraging. It did him good to see the sparkle back in her beautiful eyes. The eyes that now peered up at him with a keen look. He released her shoulders and stepped back.
"You're different than when you left this morning," she said, scrunching her face. "Lighter. Happier. And nooo, I don't think it's all down to the exercise…," Sometimes she was so perceptive he wondered if she had a touch of the sight. Many witches in her line had been known for it.
Draco just shrugged and grinned at her. "Maybe it was Theo's sparkling conversation. More important discussion though. What are we doing for your sister's birthday tomorrow? I want to celebrate with the three of us and not just rely on the big piss-up on Thursday."
Astoria pouted, "and besides you and Daphne are being big prats and not letting me go to that."
"That is because you are underage," said Draco. "Focus. Tomorrow."
"Well Daph was on about some muggle supper club that's supposed to be 'very now' and very hard to get into. She's such a hipster. So I called them and used my em, powers of persuasion to get us a table."
"You mean you cast a spell." Since she had withdrawn from Hogwarts, she wasn't bound by the same magical restrictions as students, and she had been making very free with the loophole.
"Don't come over all boring and fatherly, Draco. It was just a tiny wandless compelling charm. More of a suggestion than a spell. The muggle never knew because I did it over the telephone." She trained the full effect of her brilliant smile on him. He frowned. "Oh just forget about it. It's for Daphne," she wheedled. "She'll be so chuffed."
He held his frown for a moment longer and then relented, grabbing her face and kissing her on the forehead. "Fine, you menace. But when the Improper Use of Magic Office comes knocking on our door I'm just going to say, 'She's in there. Have at her.'"
She laughed and grabbed his hand. "Now come see all these records I bought and this cracking birthday gag I'm going to play on Daph Thursday..."
Draco smiled and let himself be led.
~oOo~
Hermione sucked down the last of her cocktail and started to gather her things. She'd done her duty with two hours and two drinks at the leaving do for a junior witch in Magical Creatures who was relocating to Germany. Now she wanted nothing more than to get home and finish a sheaf of reports that had been lingering in her in-tray.
Saying her goodbyes and good lucks to her colleague, she was just about to walk out of the bustling little pub when someone waved at her from the bar. It was Daphne Greengrass and she was wearing a very silly headband that read 'Birthday Girl' in blinking lights. Hermione walked over with a grin.
"I guess I should say … Happy Birthday?" She laughed up into Daphne's annoyed face.
Daphne huffed out an angry sigh. "Yes, my little sister is in town and purchased this charming item for me. She tricked me into trying it on and then informed me that it was enchanted to douse me in a wave of everlasting-stick glitter glue if I try to take it off within the next five hours."
"Clever and evil in equal parts!" Hermione noticed Blaise approaching out of the corner of her eye. "Your sister sounds intriguing. Is she the one who is going to Beauxbatons this year?"
"Yes, Astoria. She's spending part of the summer in London. But luckily she's not old enough to come here because I'd probably be hexing her right now." Daphne scowled as she accepted a glass from Blaise, the rainbow lights from her crown dancing across her face.
"Oh leave it," Blaise chuckled. "She got you good, Daph, and besides you look festive—bringing the disco wherever you go. Hello, Granger. Are you joining us for Daphne's birthday drinks?"
"Oh, I'd love to, but I'm just leaving another celebration and I have to get home," Hermione responded with fake sincerity, already edging away from the bar.
She liked Daphne, but was almost certain this occasion would involve Pansy Parkinson—and she wanted to avoid that encounter like the plague. And more importantly, Malfoy could show up any second, said her inner voice in a panic.
At that very instant, a pair of strong arms slid around her waist from behind while a kiss landed on her cheek. For a wild moment, the thought flitted through her brain that it was him and she started in shock.
"Leaving so soon?" an unnaturally deep voice tickled her ear.
Hermione twisted, a genuine smile breaking over her face and a slightly hysterical laugh escaping her lips. "Theo! You startled me!" He flashed her a smile, all dimples and innocent blue eyes, then released her with a twirl, holding her hand companionably.
"Do you really have to go?" he said with a moue of disappointment.
"I really do," she replied, her sense of urgency increasing as the clock ticked. "I've been here for hours with another group!" Theo continued to pout and didn't let go of her hand. Hermione started to get the distinct impression that he was detaining her, which made her even more nervous. She used a cunning little tactic she'd learned in a muggle self-defense class to disengage, then put some fast distance between herself and the others.
"I'm really sorry I can't stay and celebrate," she chattered, laying a small pile of galleons on the bar. "Happy Birthday, Daph, and next round's on me. Let's get together soon at that whisky bar in Knockturn that you were telling me about!" Hermione darted in to kiss Daphne on both cheeks, gave Blaise a little salute and walked backward away from Theo, who was still rubbing his wrist, blowing him a kiss as she went.
She was halfway across the room and still waving over her shoulder, when she noticed the most curious expression cross Theo's face. She had a split second to wonder why before she felt herself walk into something tall and fairly unyielding.
"Granger," murmured a fatally familiar and aristocratically bored voice, "we really must stop running into each other this way."
Hermione felt her heart drop to her toes.
She was usually a really very self-possessed person. She wasn't clumsy. She didn't embarrass easily. She'd once been described in the Prophet as having 'an easy confidence and natural authority'. So why, for the love of all that was magic, did her encounters with this wizard keep being so awkward? She really, really didn't want to look up.
"Hullo, Draco," (Draco!) she said in a low voice, feeling a wave of warmth start up her neck. She forced her eyes up to his, expecting the cold dismissal he'd given her when he'd seen her in the ministry last week.
But he wasn't cold.
His eyes were warm. Warm and smiling with little crinkles at the corners. His mouth was faintly smiling too—as if he was in on a joke with her. A little laugh of relief and surprise burst from her lips and she felt something loosen in her shoulders.
"Sorry about that. Not looking where I was going. Have fun tonight, though," she said, attempting nonchalance.
"Oh are you leaving?" he murmured, his mouth turning down slightly. His mouth…mmm. God, why is he so good looking? Suddenly Ginny's words floated through her mind unbidden, "I'm not so sure he was never after you." The thought caused heat to flash over Hermione's body and that galvanized her to stop staring at him gormlessly and move. She stepped around him, although she didn't miss how arresting he was in impeccable grey robes.
"Yes, got to get home and do some exciting and scintillating work!"
"Isn't there something the muggles say about all work and no play?" he asked, tapping his forefinger to his temple in an exaggerated motion.
"Are you saying I'm dull?" she parried, unable to resist turning around and stepping closer.
"Furthest thing from it." Malfoy's half smile turned into a grin that could have really spelled trouble for her, except that Hermione could now see over his shoulder that Theo and Blaise were watching them avidly from the bar.
She gestured in their direction with a significant look. "I think your friends are waiting for you."
Malfoy turned and took in the situation, his fine brows drawing together in annoyance. Hermione used the opportunity to beat a full retreat.
"Don't work too hard," she heard his soft voice call behind her. She risked one more quick smile over her shoulder and stepped into the night, catching his eyes lingering on her as she walked out the door.
~oOo~
Harry bustled into the kitchen the next morning in slightly rumpled robes, tie askew and running ten minutes behind, as usual. Hermione was already there, humming as she fixed herself a cup of tea. She glided over and automatically began straightening his messy neckwear, still humming and wearing a dreamy smile.
"Why are you in such a good mood?" he demanded, shoving toast into his mouth and glancing suspiciously at her beatific face as he lifted his chin. It was very early in the morning for her to look so cheerful. Ginny for example, wouldn't be up for hours. Perk of not toiling at a desk job or having to take early meetings.
"Oh no reason," she said, her smile lingering as she put the finishing touches on what he knew would be a much-improved half-windsor. "Other than it's Friday and it's supposed to be hot this weekend. Where are you rushing out to?"
Harry continued to regard her. "Investor meeting at nine. What were you up to last night? Gin and I didn't see you before we went over to the Burrow."
"There was a leaving drinks thing at the Divining Rod for a colleague. I put in my time and came home to catch up on some reports. I must have just missed you." Hermione was now studying her reflection in the hall mirror, twisting bits of her hair this way and that.
Realization dawned on Harry and he felt a smirk tug at his mouth. "That's interesting because I ran into Theo Nott yesterday and he invited me to a drinks thing at the Divining Rod," he said. Hermione's cheeks flushed and she looked more closely in the mirror, now very obviously using it as a tactic not to look at Harry. She also didn't respond. "Did you happen to see Theo there?" he probed. "Couldn't have been the same drinks thing. He said his was a birthday do… for Daphne, I think?"
"Yes, now that you mention it I did see Theo there, just briefly," Hermione said, now sticking her head into the fridge and rummaging around.
"Anyone else we know show up?" Harry matched her tone and leaned against the counter, all nonchalance.
"Oh that whole gang from the house party was there," came the muffled reply from within the fridge. Harry's smirk deepened. Ginny had told him a bit about what was going on with Malfoy and Hermione and he found it… interesting. Judging by Hermione's mood today, Malfoy had shown up and their encounter had been better than the last one. Which was good, because Hermione had been in a right state since the party—alternating between glum slumping about the flat and near manic levels of activity.
When Ginny had mentioned her hunch about Hermione and Draco, Harry had been shocked at first, but then gradually warmed to the idea. The wizards and even a few muggles who had constituted Hermione's love life over the last few years had been distinctly lackluster in his opinion. Of course, he had extremely high expectations for anyone wanting to be a part of her life, and few measured up to those or her general excellency. But if anyone was as intelligent and ambitious as Hermione, it was Draco Malfoy. And they shared some very strong opinions about things that Harry couldn't work up a lot of fervor about—like art or runic translation or muggle music and food.
Besides, it had been a long time since he had viewed Malfoy with the hatred and distrust of their school years. They'd never be best mates, but Harry believed in actions and deeds—and Malfoy's during and since the war had proved who he really was. The project they'd worked on together at the Meadows last year, designing a diagnostic checklist for post-traumatic stress, had allowed him to further get to know his old rival. And while he firmly believed that Malfoy would always be somewhat of a posh twat, he'd also come to think that he was brilliant, caring and occasionally very funny.
One of the most surreal moments of Harry's post-war life had been sitting over a firewhisky with Draco Malfoy and laughing until tears rolled down his cheeks over Draco's spot-on impression of Minerva McGonagall.
And he respected that Malfoy was using his wealth and notoriety to do something useful. It would have been very easy for him to recede into an idle private life after the war, cushioned by money and the power that was still concentrated in the hands of a few dozen pureblood families. But he hadn't—he'd stuck his neck out again and again to build the Meadows and make it what it was, much to the displeasure of those same families.
If Malfoy recognized Hermione's quality—and she could get past his cool exterior to stir the depths, Harry thought they might have a real chance to make each other happy.
And interestingly, Harry had gotten the distinct impression that Theo Nott was advocating for the match too. Yesterday when they had bumped into each other the invitation to drinks was less to Harry and more to Harry if he were to bring Hermione. Theo had mentioned something about the misunderstanding with Molly Weasley at the party and that he had set Draco straight. He'd seemed eager to make sure Hermione knew that...
Harry snapped out of his reverie as Hermione emerged from the fridge, yoghurt in hand. "Harry," she asked, carefully opening the tub, "do you think people can change?"
Harry almost laughed out loud, but maintained his casual air. "Yes, I do. Or maybe I should say that I believe people can reveal themselves more fully as we get to know them, and that the way we perceive them can change."
"Hmm," she murmured, still contemplating her breakfast.
"But I also think that life can change people," continued Harry, warming to his subject. "Events, like the war. Having children. Doing a certain job. Being happy or unhappy in a marriage." Hermione nodded slowly. A thought struck Harry and he sobered, "Take Ron, for example. I'll always love him and he'll always be a mate, but I'd say we've all changed and grown apart - especially the two of you."
"It still makes me sad," Hermione said. "I know we've talked about this before, but it sneaks up on me once in a while." Harry sighed and sent her a sympathetic glance. "Of course our breakup was hard, but with our history, we should have been able to come back from it. And it was eight years ago. But I feel like I barely even know him now."
"Well it's sort of like I said—I think events changed Ron. Or maybe they shaped him. Well, they shaped all of us. I mean, look at Neville! But Ron never moved on from the war the way the rest of us did. He never progressed. I think your breakup was part of that. And then right afterward when you needed distance was when you got really close to Ginny, and she sort of replaced him, for better or for worse. For me too—falling in love and making a life with her meant I had less room for him. I think he resented that. Then when we three moved in together, even though he said he didn't want to live with us, I think it made him feel even more left out. I'm convinced that's why he left and stayed abroad for so many years."
Hermione nodded, "I felt so awkward after we split - I pushed him away and I'll always regret that." She dabbed at her eyes and gave a watery laugh. "Anyway, this is a bit heavy for Friday morning before work."
Harry crossed over to her and hugged her, sniffing a bit himself. "It's a good thing Ginny's not up. She'd be having a go at us for being watering-pots and telling us we got the better end of the Weasley bargain." Hermione smiled up at him. "Anyway," he continued placing his hands on her shoulders bracingly. "I think things are looking up for Ron. He's gotten close to Jack Wickham and they're cooking up some sort of business scheme that he's really excited about. Something to do with coastal property in Spain. They're combining Ron's knowledge of the area with Wickham's real estate expertise."
Hermione looked encouraged, "That's great!"
Harry nodded, "I know. I'm happy for him. But back to your earlier question, I truly do think people can change—and change again. The worst thing to do is remain rigid in your thinking about someone when they are showing you that they're different."
Hermione looked thoughtful, then placed her hands over Harry's. "Thanks, friend," she said with a smile. "Now I hate to tell you this after we've had such a lovely talk, but it's 8:56."
"Shite!" Harry grabbed his bag and dashed for the fireplace, "I have to meet this bloke at some tea shop in Diagon Alley in 4 minutes!"
"Floo with me to the ministry! It'll be fastest" Hermione called, shouldering her work satchel as she ran after him. She tossed the floo into the grate and they both stepped into the swirling green cloud and disappeared.