So I wrote this chapter while I had COVID and while I got stranded in an airport for 2 days. Take that as you will.

Thanks to my lovely betas. Betawork done by etoiledelune and iovelygri.

As always, thanks for being here!

peace and love,br /

sam

Malfoy Manor was very different from what Draco remembered.

Lucius Malfoy's office was not the dark, insidious pit that it had once been. The dark artifacts had been removed–forcefully, by the ministry–as had all references to the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

It was certainly traditional with nods to Slytherin House and Malfoy family history, which would likely never change. But the large bay window that faced the gardens and beautifully framed the gazebo was now the focus of the room, not his father's dark deeds. Not the plotting and the secrets.

"My mother sits out there and reads or gardens. He's always had the window so he could admire her while he works," Draco explained fondly as he noticed Hermione's gaze had drifted to the same view.

"That's very sweet, and wholly unexpected from your father," Hermione said with a small laugh. "As a matter of fact, Lucius Malfoy is just full of surprises. None of this is what I expected."

Draco nodded. "I told you they were renovating. I imagine most of the house will be rather different than what you expect."

"Or what you remember." Her hand squeezed his.

"Thank Merlin for that," he mumbled.

A house-elf appeared in the room and Draco felt Hermione stiffen beside him. "Pipsey comes to tell Master Draco that Master Malfoy and Mistress Malfoy are waiting in the conservatory for their guests."

"Draco—"

"She's a free elf that is paid by the estate. As are all the other house-elves you'll see tonight," Draco cut off all her arguments efficiently. He'd anticipated this and had written to the family solicitor to confirm the elves were still being treated well. Hermione nodded her acceptance and Draco led her out into the hallway.

"Thank you, Pipsey. I know the way," he called over his shoulder.

"Wow…" Hermione's breathless voice seemed to echo in the barren hallway.

Draco noticed that his parents had removed most of the portraits from the hall. All of the bigoted ancestors were taken down and replaced with scenic scapes or iconic art of famous wizards and witches. Well, at least he'd be spared from hearing his girlfriend being called slurs on their way to dinner.

"It's all so…," Hermione trailed off as her eyes darted around.

"Ostentatious? Pretentious?"

"Grand. It's very grand."

"I expected a much swottier word, Granger," he teased. She playfully scowled at him and tried to pinch his arm. He dodged and snaked his arm around her waist.

His hand skated up and down Hermione's spine as they approached the doors to the conservatory. Now or never…

The estate's magic sensed his presence and the doors opened slowly unassisted. And Draco came face-to-face with his parents for the first time since his birthday.

His father had regained much of his color and weight from his stint in Azkaban and a prolonged housestay from the Dark Lord. His mother looked as graceful and elegant as always. Though he noticed that her traditional robes had been replaced by a Muggle floor-length dress. They were both still dressed in blacks and greys—the unofficial Malfoy uniform.

"My dragon!" his mother exclaimed as they entered the room. She moved quickly toward him and he stepped in front of Hermione to intercept her. Narcissa hesitated as she recognized the rather protective move, and then continued to embrace her son at a slower pace.

"Draco," his father drawled with a nod and a smile from the corner of the room. That was the most affection there would be in front of company…some habits died hard.

"Mother. Father. You're both looking well," he responded with all the grace and respect he was raised to demonstrate. He felt Hermione gently touch his back whether in support or to remind him of her presence.

He cleared his throat and took a step away from his mother to stand next to her. "And, of course, let me officially introduce my girlfriend, Miss Hermione Granger."

"Lord and Lady Malfoy, thank you for the invitation," she said with a small nod to his parents. Merlin, you'd almost think this was a normal family dinner between strangers. Certainly not a dinner between war criminals and a woman who'd been tortured in a room a few doors down.

"Narcissa, please," his mother shocked him by saying. "I think we're all past the formalities, right Lucius, darling?"

His father hummed in acknowledgement and produced a tumbler of firewhiskey and a glass of white wine for them. "Yes, I do believe after you try to murder someone that you can skip past the formalities and small talk."

The entire room fell silent and the tension became another party in the room.

Draco looked into his glass and drained it in one go. And so it begins…

Hermione was trying. She was.

She was trying her damndest to make this dinner less awkward. Narcissa, to her credit, was trying just as hard to be a good hostess and engage her in polite conversation.

But Lucius Malfoy was simply not having it. He wasn't being cruel to her, which she supposed was an improvement. But he could not allow conversation to go on without mentioning the war in some capacity.

It never failed to kill the mood.

Draco's solution was to sigh loudly and look at her as if to say "I told you this would be terrible."

"Miss Granger, how are your parents these days? I assume they were rather worried for you being in the Muggle world," Narcissa asked politely.

Hermione felt herself tense. "They're well. Currently, Mind Healers in Australia are handling their care so they don't know much about the war."

"Mind Healers?"

"Oh, I thought everyone knew nowadays," she responded. The Prophet had gotten wind of the story from an insider at the Ministry and, though she'd never confirmed it, most people knew she'd altered her parents' minds in some capacity. "I Obliviated them before I left for the war. They couldn't defend themselves against magic and I would've worried so I thought the best way to protect them was to send them away. I also knew there was a chance I wouldn't survive the war and I wanted to save them from that grief."

"My my, so many sacrifices made. I suppose that's why you all won," Lucius said, and it almost sounded sincere but the disinterest on his face made it feel mocking.

"Lucius," Narcissa quietly reprimanded.

"Apologies," he conceded. "Do tell me, how is the rest of The Golden Trio? Mr. Potter? Mr. Weasley?"

Draco growled quietly at the mention of her ex-boyfriend.

"Harry is wonderful. He's really enjoying a year at Hogwarts without worrying he'll have to fight some great evil at the end of second term," Hermione replied primly. Two could play this game.

"And Mr. Weasley? I'm quite curious to know what occurred there as last I heard you were in a relationship with him and not my son," Lucius pressed.

Did he know? Had the rumours made it out of Hogwarts?

"It wasn't exactly a civil end. But I'm much happier with Draco than I was with him." She laid a hand on Draco's thigh under the table and sent him a smile, hoping to ease some of his tension.

"I'm sure that's been received very positively amongst the other students. The Brightest Witch of Our Age and a parolee…"

"Enough!" Draco yelled as he slammed his hands on the table. He stood up so quickly that his chair clattered to the ground and he stomped off out the door.

Draco couldn't take it. He couldn't do this thing where his mother tried to be pleasant to his girlfriend like she was just a nice girl he brought home. He couldn't sit idly by while his father tried to ruin everything by reminding the entire room that she was a war hero and they were villains.

If they wanted reminders, then reminders they would have.

He drew his wand and broke the wards on the drawing room door. Upon entering he was engulfed in the stale smell of must and dried blood. The memories all hit him at once while he looked around at the wreckage.

Screams as people, muggle and wizard alike, endured the torture curse.

Occluding to the point of vacancy to avoid crying or vomiting.

Watching a girl with wild curls arch in pain as hatred was carved into her arm.

Blood stains were still marking the floor and his attention drifted to the rather large one next to the remains of a broken chandelier.

He marched toward it and heard the sounds of footsteps behind him. It didn't shock him that Hermione was the first to sprint into the room. His mother followed at a quickened but still proper pace. His father strolled in last as though this was a great inconvenience.

Lucius wasn't fooling him though. He knew this act because he'd copied it for most of his adolescence. His father was bothered by this but nonchalance was the best mask for a Malfoy.

Well fuck him and his mask.

"Draco–" Hermione's worried tone brought his attention back to her. Merlin, he was a prized twat for dragging her back into this room. But he wasn't exactly rational at the moment.

"I'm sure we all remember the last time the four of us were in this room together, yes?" Draco shouted as his eyes flitted between his parents and Hermione. "Granger, you were right here and we all watched. My father certainly remembers as he's been bringing up the atrocities of the war all evening."

"Draco, this is hardly very civilized," his father scorned.

"Civilized?!" Draco threw his hands in the air. "Nothing about tonight has been civilized, father. And you are one to lecture me about civility at all considering what else went on in this room."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. Trust her curious mind to temporarily override any anxiety about being in this room again. Though he did notice that she had remained near the door and far from the site of her own torture.

Well, not just hers.

"Do you remember when I told you about how I was marked? How I was held down by my lovely parents?" Draco spat. He waited in the silence and watched her nod cautiously.

"Well, I failed to mention where that specific initiation rite took place." Draco turned to look at the deep red dried on the tiles. "We have much more in common than you think. Considering both of us spilled blood in the very same place on this drawing room floor."

"Draco, is this…?" Her voice was closer and he could hear her heels clicking along as she moved toward him ever so slowly.

"Yes. Yes, it is. Right, Mother?" Draco looked back at his parents. They both looked stricken by this turn. His mother had tears in her eyes as she held her stomach like she could physically hold the pain in. His father…his father looked at him with something like shame.

"Well, Father? Aren't you going to regale us with this tale of woe? Of how you held your only son and heir to the floor while his pure and sacred blood was spilled in the name of a madman. Don't you remember?" Draco continued to rage until he felt Hermione's small hand ease into his.

"Draco, I think that's enough," she said quietly and calmly.

"No, I don't think it is," he snapped but tightened his grip on her fingers to keep her from leaving him to do this alone. "Mother? Since Father has decided to go quiet for the first time this evening, would you like to tell the story?"

His mother flinched and his father stepped closer to her to place a supportive arm around her shaking shoulders.

"Draco," Hermione whispered. "Not now. Not like this."

He nodded and let her pull him away and towards the door. Draco heard his father's murmured words and watched his mother visibly shake off this conversation.

"Shall we head back to the table for some trifle?" Narcissa asked hoarsely while wiping tears from her eyes. She was trying and failing to slip easily back into hostess mode.

Draco felt himself begin to nod, despite the fact that he just wanted to leave. His upbringing had taught him that it was rude to leave early when invited to dinner. And despite him rejecting most of the values he was raised with, he couldn't shake the decorum lessons.

Hermione stiffened beside him and he looked over to her. The fire in her eyes was back but more shocking was her tone when she turned her attention back to his parents.

"Excuse me?" she said coldly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you not like trifle? We can–"

"Why on earth do you think that we will be continuing through this farce of a dinner after that?" Her words came out sharp and clipped.

"Miss Granger–"

"No. Absolutely not. I have been polite and kind through this whole dinner. But I will not sit down at that table while you try to brush this under the rug." Her grip on his hand grew tighter and he watched her in stunned and amazed silence.

"Your son experienced unspeakable trauma in this room. As did I. I'm sure the two of you have your own horrific experiences from the war that you are working through. But that's why I am all the more disappointed in you. He was hurt in this room. He went through a terribly painful ordeal that you aided," she nearly shouted. "Have you thought to apologise to him for that? Have you thought of even trying to make amends with him?"

The silence that rang through the room after her scolding was deafening. Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy looked properly chastened by his witch and he wasn't ashamed to admit that he was slightly turned on by how effectively she'd put them in their place.

Draco let the silence simmer…waiting for his parents to act. To say something.

And he was met with disappointment. Again.

"Granger, let's go," he murmured and pulled her away.

"Wait," his mother called. "Wait, Draco. Please." Hermione glared at her as she approached and placed her hands on his cheeks.

"I–You can't possibly understand what it was like." She swallowed and tears formed in her eyes. "He would've killed you. I made a choice. An impossible choice where there would never be a good option. I needed you to live, even if you would spend every day of your life hating me for what I'd done."

"Mother–"

"No, please," she pleaded. "I can't apologise enough for that night. Or for everything else you were forced to do for this family. There are no words that seem even remotely good enough. But I realise now…even the wrong words are better than none at all."

His mother pulled him into a firm embrace. And for the first time since the war ended, he returned it with sincerity.

"I've missed you, my dragon," she whispered in his ear as she clung to him.

"I've missed you, too. I just couldn't–"

"Shhh. I know. It's alright." Her arms squeezed him impossibly tighter, as though she worried the second he left them he'd never return.

A cough broke the tender moment, and Draco looked over his mother's shoulder to see his father's shame filled gaze.

"I…I owe you so much more than the apology Miss Granger rightfully demanded on your behalf," he choked out. "I did this to you. I brought this family into this life. I made mistake after mistake until we were all so far in that–it was go along with it or die."

His mother released him and he glanced at Hermione to see her with arms folded and watching the exchange with cautious optimism.

This was the moment he'd been hoping for. They could both try to be less prejudiced, which they'd proven by their acceptance of Hermione Granger into their home. Yes, his father had been snide, but not because she was Muggleborn. Because he was ashamed of their actions and needed to make everyone else just as uncomfortable as he was.

Standard Malfoy technique.

But despite the proof that his blood purist parents were striving to be better, he felt owed this moment. He felt he deserved this remorse and it was happening.

He couldn't help but wonder though…did they mean it? His mother had certainly seemed genuine. His father…it seemed so convenient that after Narcissa had laid herself bare and been received so positively that now Lucius was willing to do the same.

He was Slytherin to the core.

"Don't give me that look, son. I taught you that look," his father reprimanded. "I'm not playing you for a fool. I–I…Malfoy's don't apologise so I'm afraid that I'm out of practice with remorse."

"Yes, I'm well aware of the family policy on feelings and weakness," Draco snarked.

His father sighed with frustration. "I'm trying to break traditions here. I'm trying to own my role in this. Own my role in your suffering and pain and…I admit I was wrong. And that my own stubbornness hurt this family more than anything else."

"Too right."

"Draco," his mother said softly. "Listen to him."

Another glance at Hermione and he saw her nod in agreement.

"Go on," he conceded.

His father took a moment as though he was searching for a starting point. "You have to understand…I was raised with blood purity physically beaten into me. I was corrupted with that poison before I'd even stepped foot on Hogwarts grounds. And I, just like you, wanted so badly to impress my father. So then when I heard about this great, powerful wizard who was descended from Salazar Slytherin and he was forming an elite group…I had to join.

"The pride on my father's face when I told him about the Dark Lord kept pushing me to go further. It was enough to just be a follower, I needed to be the follower. I needed to be the right hand man. And when he fell the first time, I thought I was free. But there were expectations and whispers about his return. I still believed in blood purity so I maintained the image–"

"Do you still believe in blood purity?" Hermione interrupted, drawing Lucius' focus to her.

"I'm working on it, Miss Granger. After all, the man I followed for decades turned out to be half-blood defeated by another half-blood and his Muggleborn best friend. It makes a man question things," he conceded. Granger smirked in response and dipped her head.

"Lucius, tell him," his mother urged.

"You weren't supposed to be marked," he said sternly. "I'd made a deal with the Dark Lord and the other followers that the mark would not be demanded of you. Of course, everyone anticipated that once you were of age you would offer yourself to the cause. I had planned to talk you out of that if the day came. I didn't want that life for you.

"But then I failed time and time again. And they demanded that I offer you up to the cause early as retribution. Or as they put it, the Malfoy heir would bleed for the sins of his father one way or another."

Draco let the words hang in the air. He'd always known that his life was in danger. It was why he'd done all the things he had…to protect his family and himself.

But it seemed that his parents had done the same thing for him. They'd tried to protect him and despite their best efforts…Voldemort had gotten him anyway.

"Is that true?" Draco asked his mother.

"Every word. I was there…you're welcome to look," Narcissa offered. Draco's eyes widened. Malfoys and the Blacks were powerful Occlumens and Legilimens but they'd never offer to let anyone rifle around their heads.

Even family. Sometimes especially family.

"No. No I believe you," Draco said, shocked. "I–I don't know that I can forgive everything all at once."

His parents looked crestfallen.

"But I can work on it. You're both working on being better and I can do the same," he agreed with a small smile. Narcissa looked happy enough to burst. Lucius looked stunned that his vulnerability paid off.

"Well, I suppose if trifle is still on the table…we could stay," Hermione chimed in and moved to Draco's side.

They all chuckled and Narcissa offered two quick nods.

They all left the room and Mother solemnly closed the doors and reset the wards. His parents walked back down the corridor and Hermione made to follow them, but he caught her hand to bring her back to his side.

He pulled his hand from hers to wrap it around her waist. He leaned in and placed a kiss at her temple. "There she is," Draco whispered in her ear.

"Who?" she scoffed. "The Brightest Witch of Her Age?"

"No," he chuckled in response. "Hermione fucking Granger."

Draco wasted no time once they were back in the dungeons. Watching Granger eat trifle was pure torture.

Her lips had wrapped delicately around the spoon.

Her tongue had darted out to catch spare cream at the corner of her mouth. He wanted to do that. Kiss it off her lips and savour the taste.

So now that he had his incredible witch alone, he was taking full advantage. Or almost alone, he needed to clear Theo and Macmillian out.

He currently had Granger pressed up against the wall outside his room with his tongue sweeping into her mouth. He groaned as he pulled away.

"We really need a single room somewhere," she said breathlessly.

"Agreed. Now if you'll excuse me," he kissed her again. "I need to go throw out my roommates." Another long, lingering kiss followed and no one moved.

"I have a better idea," Hermione said against his lips.

"Is your idea that I just screw you against this wall? Because I love that idea." He trailed kisses down her neck to her delectable collarbone.

Hermione laughed and bit her lip to fight the moans. "No, but I'm also starting to like that idea."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall. He wrapped his body around hers as they stumbled toward Granger's destination. They reached a door and she used her wand to unlock it and they stumbled in.

The room was sparse but there was a bed and an en suite. A singular bed. A singular, empty bed.

"What is this?" Draco asked

"I think it's supposed to be reserved for the Head Boy if that person is in Slytherin," she responded. "Lucky us that the Head Boy is a Ravenclaw this year."

"How did I not know this was here? How does no one know about this? There should be a sign-up sheet for people wanting to get laid here," Draco wondered.

"Do you really care about that right now?" Hermione turned in his arms and pushed his jacket off his shoulders.

"No. No, I do not." He lunged playfully towards her and reached around her back to grab the zipper of her dress.

They both savoured the process of divesting each other of their clothes. Turning every action into a kiss, a sigh, a graze against heated skin. Draco turned the removal of Hermione's dress into an excuse to worship every inch of her spine.

He counted the tiny freckles on her back and placed barely there kisses on them as he went.

"I love this dress. Wear it every day," he whispered in her ear.

She laughed as she pulled him to the bed and then pushed him to sit on it. "I think the staff would take offence to my blatant disregard to the dress code."

"Fuck the dress code. You were incredible tonight and I think that you should wear this dress so you can remember how strong you were." He tipped her face to his so he could look into her eyes.

She chewed on her lip and stared at him like she was working up to something. He just ran his thumb along her jaw and cheekbone while she deliberated over her next words.

"I love you," she blurted. "I know you said it first before we hung out with the Gryffindors but you just…brushed by it. I didn't want to make a big deal of it. But, I love you. And tonight when they just kept steamrolling your feelings, I couldn't sit there and watch."

"I was really hoping you didn't hear that other one…it was one of the moments when my brain didn't work properly around you," he laughed and pulled her in for a sweet, slow kiss. "I had a much more special moment in mind, but nothing with us ever seems to go to plan. I love you. The woman you were. The woman you are. The woman you will be. I love them all."

Hermione crawled into his lap and he held her close. She ground her hips against his groin while he snogged her senseless. His hands winding into her curls to tilt her head in just the right angle. His witch gave as good as she got as she pulled on his short strands to keep him just as close.

Her movements were getting more frantic and he couldn't take the friction anymore. They shifted back on the bed and he settled on the pillows. He pushed Hermione further down his legs until she was settled on his thighs. He grabbed one of her hands and guided it to her centre.

"Take what you want," he commanded against her lips. "You're in control."

"You…you want to watch?" she asked hesitantly.

"I'd like nothing more than to watch you be fierce, selfish, and lost in your own pleasure," he nearly growled as the image he'd created in his mind played on a loop.

"Will you…touch yourself, too?" Draco almost missed the question as he watched her fingers slowly start moving.

"If you want me to. But I think you deserve to be the one to get off while I sit and suffer…," he answered distractedly.

He saw a brief flicker of nervousness in her eyes but then she gave herself over to the task entirely. Her slim fingers were moving in rapid movements over her clit and her other hand danced along the path between her breasts, just teasing the skin.

She then did something wholly unexpected. Hermione Granger met his eyes with a smugness and shifted herself back along his legs so that he had a perfect view of her glistening cunt. She used her fingers to separate her folds and then fucked herself on her hand while he merely watched.

His cock twitched with the tease but his brain was filled with pride that she was being so bold. So smug. So incredibly confident.

He listened to her moans pick up in volume and clenched his fists into the covers to keep still. Her fingers were moving at a consistent pace and then they abruptly stopped as she came. Her near scream almost drove him over, but he had restraint.

Draco still wanted her.

Hermione eased herself up and crawled back over his cock. Her pupils were blown wide but she reached for him and brought their mouths together.

"You want another one?" he asked as he shifted against her.

He felt her nod and then her hips rolled against him once with intention. Both of them groaned at the contact and Granger worked them both further into a frenzy without ever moving her hands from his shoulders. His cock was coated in her wetness and he could've come from just this as Hermione moaned while she chased her own pleasure for the second time tonight.

She was magnificent. A goddess incarnate.

He kept his hands right on her hips and stretched his fingers around to the small of her back.

She was still so thin despite his best efforts at meals. She was looking healthy, though. Finally her ribcage wasn't sticking through her skin and he found that he took great satisfaction in the way her body felt against his.

"Draco," Hermione moaned. "I need you."

"You have me, Hermione. I'm right here," he promised her as he guided himself into her. He pulled back enough to look at her and take all of her in. The last time they did this, he'd had her keep his Slytherin shirt on–which he didn't regret.

But seeing her like this…it was almost a shame to cover her body. He traced her freckles with his eyes. She had a small cluster on her sternum in the shape of a diamond. A cluster he leaned forward to taste.

Hermione moaned and rode him with a needy rhythm. And it was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. She was being selfish and that thought alone was driving him to the edge.

She flung her head back and her curls cascaded down her back. Her eyes were closed in bliss and her nails dug little crescents into his shoulders.

He could feel her thighs were starting to shake both from exertion and ecstasy so he leaned further back and guided her hands to his own thighs to give her more leverage.

The new angle exposed her clit and he used one thumb to draw firm circles around it as Hermione's pace increased. She was panting and moaning and he wasn't going to last much longer.

But by all the gods, she was going to finish first.

"Oh…my…gods," she gasped as he felt her walls fluttering around him.

"Keep going. Just like that," he encouraged as he thrust up to chase his own pleasure. He realised they hadn't cast a silencing charm so as Hermione's orgasm took over, he sat straight up and kissed her to swallow her screams.

"Come for me, Draco," she demanded as she traced his ear with her tongue. "I want to see you fall."

Oh, he'd fallen for her a while ago. However, who was he to deny her this request? Draco bit softly into her shoulder as he found his own release. His groans muffled by her soft skin. He continued to thrust shallowly as she was still pulsing around him.

When they were both too sensitive, she collapsed on top of him, taking his back to the mattress. They sighed in unison with complete, utter satisfaction.

Hermione stayed in his lap, wrapped her arms around him, and rested her head against his. He settled his own arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder. They stayed that close as they both came down.

"I think we found our solution," Hermione finally broke the silence.

He barked out a laugh and rolled them to the side so he could look her in the eyes again. "I'm sure Theo will be greatly disappointed that he can't gossip about us anymore."

"Who says I won't tell him all about it in the morning?" she challenged with a raised eyebrow.

"I dare you. He's ruthless and even I can't handle him all the time." He kissed the tip of her nose and rolled over to grab his want from his trousers. A quick flick and they were cleaned and the door to their hidden room was locked.

"Are we staying here?"

"Oh, yes. I want you all for myself tonight," he announced. They settled with Draco wrapped around Hermione to help chase the chill of the dungeons away.

"This is nice. Let's never leave. We can just hide here," she whispered into the pillows. A wonderful daydream they both knew couldn't come true.

But they could pretend for tonight.

"Whatever you want," he murmured into her hair before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

They both drifted off holding each other and hoping the nightmares would leave them be. Just this once.

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