A/N: We're coming to the end my lovelies! One more chapter after this.
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She couldn't feel anything.
There was a hole inside of her, and every minute another piece fell into the gaping abyss, waiting to swallow her whole.
She had dug herself a grave, and she was content to lie in it.
At six in the morning, Ginny knocked softly on her door. She pushed it open.
"I saw your bag in the hallway," she said. Hermione kept her eyes on her ceiling. "I thought you were staying the night."
"Me too."
The pitter-patter of Ginny's feet on the floor. She climbed into bed next to her.
"What did he do?"
Ginny was on her side, facing her, head propped up on her arm.
"Nothing. He found out about the memories."
Ginny stilled beside her. Hermione kept her unblinking eyes on her ceiling. They were dry and tired.
"Oh."
"And then he asked me to leave."
"Oh."
Hermione swallowed. "You know, at Hogwarts, whenever Harry, Ron and I would do something dangerous or against the rules, I would plan a story in case we were caught. I was always prepared to speak to McGonagall or Dumbledore. Ready to tell them an excuse." Hermione turned to look at Ginny, the blue eyes already on her. "I never thought he would find out. I never considered it. So, I had nothing."
Ginny nodded.
"So, what did you end up saying?"
"'Sorry?'" Hermione chuckled darkly. She shrugged against her pillows, and turned back to the ceiling with a deprecating smile. "I told him I wanted to know him better."
"Does he know you love him?"
Hermione's cheeks flushed and she bit her lip. "No. Every time I have the opportunity, every time he asks me why I've done something for him… I tell him it was the right thing to do."
"Which is basically the same thing for you," Ginny said. Hermione looked at her again, and Ginny gave her a sad smile. "Does this mean you're broken up?"
"We… weren't really together, were we?" Hermione pressed her lips together. She sighed. "We weren't going on dates, or going public with our relationship."
"But that's what you want, yes?" Ginny's eyes were watching her. Hermione nodded. "Does he know that you want that?"
She felt her brows come together. "I… I've been just taking what I can get, honestly." She shook her head.
"Maybe it's time for you to set the rules, then." Ginny was cocking a brow at her. She reminded her of Fred so much then.
"I don't think he wants anything to do with me anymore," she said. "Much less, going public to his staff, who all had to sign that Love Contract business."
She felt Ginny roll out of the bed. "You'll never know until you ask for it."
She drifted through her Sunday. She went to class with Madame Bernard. She went to Cornerstone. Not a Malfoy in sight.
She went home. Ginny had asked Harry to come over and cook for them, so Hermione tried to be social for a few hours before retiring to bed, finding it exhausting to pretend she was fine and to ignore the lovely way the two of them interacted. Unafraid of being together. In love.
She was drowsy on the way in to work on Monday. Draco did not meet her with her coffee. She didn't expect him to.
It was Walter's first day back from his week at the Somerset Snidget Sanctuary, and they met to go over his notes and numbers before she headed to the conference room for the 9AM senior staff meeting.
He was already in the conference room when she entered, standing at the head of the table, flipping through paperwork. Wentworth and Blaise were seated, chatting through something. Draco looked up as she moved through the doorway, and then looked away.
As if she was nothing to him.
She pulled her chair out and sat. She flipped through her notes, and ignored the hands that moved paperwork around just inches from her.
She needed to speak to him in private, but she would need to spring it on him. She couldn't imagine him agreeing to a meeting with her today.
"Good morning, Granger." Blaise's voice sang to her across the table.
She looked up and he was grinning. "Good morning."
"How was your weekend?"
"Uh…" She looked down at her hands. "Not so great."
Blaise eyed her, and Draco kept his hands moving.
He began the meeting a few minutes later. His voice was the same. His mannerisms the same. As if nothing was bothering him. And maybe nothing was. Maybe he had resigned himself to this.
When it was her time to give a status report on her team, she stood. She read from her notes. She glanced about the room. She spoke eloquently. She sat.
Draco thanked her. Then they moved on to Wentworth. She listened.
Glancing up once, she found Blaise watching her, a curious expression.
When the meeting was done, she headed back to her office. She tried to organize her thoughts.
What an excellent reason for a Love Contract. Of course, for the sexual harassment problems, but more so, for the end of things.
A knock on her door frame, and Blaise was entering, shutting the door behind him. She stared at him as he stood at the door.
"So you guys broke up, huh?"
A hot spike of panic, followed by a chill of sadness.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Her voice was even. She turned back to her desk.
"Yeah, whatever, Granger," Blaise said, rolling his eyes. She heard him leave. And finally relaxed.
She had a three-hour meeting later with Draco and Waterstone. A very painful three hours. Draco wouldn't look at her. He wasn't completely ignoring her, still directing questions to her or nodding when he agreed, but to her, it was painfully obvious that he wanted nothing to do with her. It seemed he had spent the remainder of the weekend getting his walls back into place. He was impenetrable.
She wished he would just leave her and Waterstone to work, but a bit of micro-managing was to be expected. The werewolf trial started on Monday, a week away. The first big project of her department. Draco wanted to make sure everything ran smoothly.
On Tuesday morning, When Walter brought her mail in, Hermione's hands stilled over a letter with a familiar return address. A university in California.
Noelle Ogden's long awaited response.
Hermione rubbed her forehead. This was… just not the right time. Draco had expressly asked her not to write to Noelle. She'd disregarded his wishes and had done so.
Because she wanted to know him better. Just like the memories.
It took Hermione all day to decide what she would do with the letter. To not open a letter sent to you might result in opportunities missed, friendships curdled like forgotten cream. But to open it may result in far worse discoveries.
With an hour left of the work day, Hermione trudged her way to the office in the back corner. His door was ajar, so she let herself in and closed it behind her.
He glanced up at her, frown on his face, and back down at his papers.
"If this isn't work related, I'm going to have to ask you to get out."
She pressed her lips together, trying to keep any untoward comments from bursting through. She tossed the unopened letter from California on his desk. He stared at it, trying to decipher its meaning.
"I wrote to Noelle after you asked me not to. She's just now gotten back to me." She watched as his eyes flipped up to her, cold and steely. "I wanted to come clean. And let you decide if I get to open it or not."
He glared at her, pulled his wand, and tapped the letter, setting fire to it.
She blinked as it crumpled and crisped.
Well, then…. That answered that.
He brought his attention back to his paperwork, and Hermione felt very dismissed. She took a deep breath, accepting her punishment, and started for the door.
"She misunderstood the situation. Nothing in that letter would have been factual anyway."
Hermione turned back. Draco was still focused on what he was reading. "What situation?"
He looked up at her. "That night. With Marcus Flint." His jaw tightened. She stood still near the door. "After you left with O'Connor, I didn't handle things very well inside."
Hermione tried to think of how Noelle would have seen it. Draco and Marcus getting in a fist fight in the middle of a pub. Hermione thought of how Aiden's friend had described it to Aiden.
I guess right after we left, Malfoy went back inside and started wailing on Flint! I guess he was flirting with Noelle or something…
She nodded at the floor. "And you didn't clear it up for her? Tell her what actually happened?"
"She was not my priority at the moment. Something I made abundantly clear to her afterwards." He grimaced. "And I didn't know how much of it you wanted to be public knowledge."
She bit her lip, thinking that she also hadn't wanted Draco dragged through the mud with her in the press should she have gone to the Auror's Office about Flint.
"She told her father that I was brash, and unstable. Not someone to invest in." Draco tapped his quill on the parchment in front of him.
"That could have been easily cleared up, Draco. I would have happily written to Noelle or her father." She wanted to step toward him, but refrained.
"The damage was done. I didn't want you involved any more than you already had been."
She tried to think of anything else she wanted to say on this matter. She nodded, and turned back toward the door.
"Any other backstabbing secrets you've been holding onto Granger?" She turned, and his eyes were cold again. "It's Tuesday. I'm starting to wonder if a tenth of my inheritance will transfer into my accounts tonight at 9PM."
She raised a brow at him and grabbed the door handle. "It probably will." She let herself out.
Thursday was publicity day for the Golden Snidget campaign. She had the Prophet and the Quibbler coming to do a write up on the project, and Ginny, Harry, Rolf Scamander and Viktor Krum were coming to give interviews and have their photos taken as part of the "Save the Snidgets" campaign that would run in magazines and newspapers.
She felt like all her projects were actually moving forward, all within the same week. Today was publicity for the Golden Snidgets, which would print on Sunday, and the werewolf trial at the Wizengamot was scheduled to begin Monday. She had an incredibly busy week. Which was excellent, as it helped her not to concentrate on how awful she felt.
Yesterday had been just as strained as Monday and Tuesday. She had needed to prep the office on the Snidget campaign, so that if Rita went poking around in strange places, she would find a unified team. She and Walter addressed the whole floor on Wednesday afternoon, giving them basic information and talking points. Draco stood in his office doorway, arms crossed, shoulder leaning on the frame, and eyes off of her. Eventually he disappeared into his office, shutting the door behind him.
A ding of the lifts and a pair of heels marching their way to her office brought her back to the present.
"Darling!"
Hermione looked up, and Pansy Parkinson, tan and glorious, was pushing her way into the room carrying shopping bags and boxes.
"How I've missed you!"
Hermione blinked. "Me?"
"Yes, you! My model! My muse!" Pasny started dropping the bags in a chair and pushing the boxes onto Hermione's desk, almost tipping her inkpot. "I found so many goodies for you while I was in Italy."
As she scurried to save the paperwork on her desk that was slowly being plowed over, Hermione said, "Did you have a good time?"
"The best! I'll tell you all about it, but let's get set up for the publicity shoot today, hm?"
Pansy conjured a rack, and clothes started flying out of the bags and boxes, landing perfectly on the hangers.
As Pansy shoved her behind a changing curtain with an arm full of dresses to try, Hermione realized that she hadn't seen Pansy Parkinson since before the Valentine's Day Gala. Was it only three weeks ago?
She stared at the fabrics in her arms. Had she and Draco only lasted three weeks before they imploded?
Rita Skeeter arrived at 11AM, an hour before she was invited. While Daphne and Tracey started on her makeup, she heard Skeeter talking to Draco up front, asking questions about the werewolf trial next week, operations at the office, his thoughts on the Golden Snidget campaign. Rita's voice carried across the floor, and the scratching of her Quick Quotes Quill started grating on her ears, but Draco kept his tones deep and calm. She could only catch a word or two of his responses.
"And, Draco dear, how's your love life? Anyone special right now?" Rita's sing-song drifted through Hermione's office door. She swallowed, straining to hear Draco's response. She heard his rumble, a hiss of words, and a clattering of consonants, but couldn't piece together what he'd said.
Skeeter laughed. A high-pitched crystal sound that made Hermione's eye twitch.
"You ready?"
Hermione looked up and Daphne was hovering over her face with a lip pencil. Daphne raised a knowing brow at her. Hermione realized she'd been biting her lip. She released it and nodded.
Daphne looked over Hermione's shoulder at Tracey, taming her curls, and smirked before descending on her with the lip pencil.
A moment later, Pansy was shoving her into a purple dress with buttons down the front, and she was greeting Skeeter at the front. Draco excused himself, and Skeeter started her onslaught of questions on Hermione. Bozo was in the conference room, setting up backdrops and clearing space for the pictures.
The elevator doors dinged behind her just as Skeeter began asking her about her personal life, and Hermione turned to see Luna Lovegood standing inside the lift, eyes dreamy and wide.
"Luna!" Hermione smiled. "Are you representing the Quibbler?"
"Hello, Hermione." Luna danced out of the lift and let Hermione hug her tightly. "My father's come down with a terrible case of Norflax Flu, so I stepped in. I'm glad I get to spend time with you."
"Norflax Flu?" Rita Skeeter scoffed.
"Yes, it's a terrible cold caused by contact with a Norwegian Flaxson. They are native to Scandinavia." Luna brought a hand up to fiddle with her earrings.
"Oh. Has your father been to Scandinavia recently?" Hermione asked.
"No." Luna smiled, like she was ready to answer more questions.
Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it and nodded, and brought Luna and Rita to the conference room.
Once Harry and Ginny arrived, she was much calmer, focused on the task at hand. Ginny went to change into her Holyhead Harpies uniform, and while Skeeter begged Harry to put on his old Gryffindor Quidditch uniform "for old times' sake" – with a bat of her eyes – Harry managed to decline.
Rolf Scamander arrived, looking very out of place, and Hermione gave him a hug.
"I'm not a Quidditch player, Hermione," he said, eyes flitting nervously around the room. "I'm just somebodies' grandson."
"And that's all I'm asking you to be." Hermione smiled at him, and he disappeared into the conference room.
The lift doors opened and Viktor Krum appeared looking like he'd just come from a previous magazine shoot. Several of the workers who had met him last week waved and jumped up to greet him. He spotted Hermione and he headed straight for her, smiling and leaning in to kiss each cheek again.
And that was the perfect time for Draco to exit his office, reappearing for his interviews. Hermione looked at him and he looked away, heading for Krum to shake his hand.
"Thanks for being here, Krum." Draco's face was tight, and he disappeared into the conference room before Viktor could respond.
Viktor gestured for her to enter first, and she walked into the craze of the publicity day.
Bozo had removed the table and had set up a few backdrops, one of a Quidditch pitch for the Quidditch players and one of a stone wall for Harry and Rolf. Rita was currently dripping off of Harry, living for every word he said about the wedding planning, and Rolf was talking to Luna, looking far more comfortable than she'd ever seen him. Hermione smiled as she watched the two of them.
"Excuse me, everyone," she bellowed, and the room quieted. "Thank you all so much for being here. Here's how today is going to work. The photographer will take a few shots of each person for their advertisement. These will go in magazines, newspapers, on flyers, with our message 'Save the Snidgets.' Then Luna and Rita will take some time to ask a few questions for their periodicals. Harry only has a short time with us before he needs to get back to the Ministry, so we'll have Bozo start with him." She looked around. "And maybe we'll have Rolf start with Luna and Rita."
Rita looked nonplussed. Pansy, Daphne and Tracey were at the ready for those being photographed, and everyone else just milled about the conference room, waiting for their turn. She found Viktor at her elbow more often than not, and tried to engage in conversation with everyone.
Everyone except Draco, of course.
Rita was done with Rolf quite early, and was eagerly awaiting the deposit of Harry Potter into her interview chair, but Hermione watched as Luna continued to ask him questions about his current projects and his grandfather's relationship with the Golden Snidgets.
As they moved through the group and Harry left, Ginny stayed, hovering around watching.
"This is going well, Hermione."
"Thanks, Gin."
"But you haven't interacted with him at all," Ginny said.
"Yes," she sighed. "I know."
Draco and Pansy were chatting in the corner. She was smiling and whispering about Viktor Krum's photoshoot. He was frowning.
As Krum finished, Bozo was now done with their guests. It was time for Hermione and Draco to be photographed as Krum moved into the interview chair. Ginny bid her goodbyes, and Draco moved to the stone background. Pansy fluttered to Hermione and began fussing with the dress and her hair.
Hermione took her pictures as well, trying her best to come off as someone who wanted to save a species, whatever that looked like. When she was done, Krum was still being interviewed.
"How about the two of you." Bozo gestured with his camera, like it was an extension of his arm. She followed the lens to see he was pointing at her and Draco.
"Oo yes!" Pansy clapped her hands. "The pair that put this all together!"
"No, that's not necessary," Hermione started, but Pansy was already dragging Draco back to the stone backdrop.
They stood there, separately. Shoulder-to-shoulder. The bulb flashed. Pansy frowned.
"Alright," she laughed. "A little looser?"
Hermione tried bringing her hand up on her hip, tilting her head. She bumped Draco's side and they moved away from each other.
Pansy looked horrified. She came in and had Draco stand behind her. She kept Hermione's hand on her hip, and had Draco bring his hand onto her other hip. Hermione could feel him warm behind her. Draco put his other hand in his pocket.
The bulb flashed a few times.
"Now this time, like you care?" Pansy tried.
Hermione set her face, ignoring the light hand on her hip, just where he loved to touch her.
They sprang apart from each other once Bozo allowed them to. Viktor was finished, so Hermione bid him goodbye as the room watched. She felt very stiff as he tried to kiss her cheeks goodbye again and asked if they could get together sometime soon.
She smiled and tried to act naturally as Rita Skeeter's eyes drilled into them.
After Hermione and Draco finished their interviews, Pansy and Hermione headed back to her office, passing Daphne and Blaise talking in the corner. They moved away from each other as Pansy and Hermione approached.
Hermione didn't have the brain capacity for this revelation. She was fried.
Once inside the office, Pansy helped her take off that dress, and suggested they try on her outfits for trial on Monday. She gave her a navy dress to try on behind the changing curtain. As Hermione slipped it over her head, she heard Pansy's voice call to her.
"So, what did I miss while I was in Italy?"
Hermione's hands stilled. Well, quite a bit.
"Um, nothing really." Hermione stayed behind the curtain longer than necessary.
"Mmhmm," Pansy hummed. "How long were the two of you together before he fucked it up?"
Hermione closed her eyes. She should have known better than to try to pull a fast one on Pansy Parkinson. She emerged from behind the curtain, and Pansy was folding clothing, looking at her with a smirk.
"Er… barely three weeks. And he didn't fuck up. I did." She slipped into the shoes Pansy had laid out for her.
Pansy laughed. "Not likely." Pansy came to her, and started tugging at the sleeves and pulling the fabric around her ribs. "I highly doubt that anything you could do would cause any kind of damage, Granger."
Hermione let her eyes glaze on the wall. "I broke into the Ministry and viewed the memories he provided to the Wizengamot."
She felt Pansy pause. "Wow, Granger. Wow."
Hermione looked at her and found Pansy grinning. She swallowed.
Pansy knelt at her side and started pinning the hem. "You'll be fine. Just give him a bit of space."
Hermione wanted to believe her, Draco's ex, but she couldn't. "I don't know. You didn't see his face. How betrayed he was. I think… I think I really botched it."
Pansy was silent as her fingers worked. Hermione glanced down at her and Pansy was grinning.
"What?" Hermione asked.
Pansy took a breath, and bit her lip. Hermione waited four more breaths before she finally spoke.
"Do you remember how you used to catch the two of us snogging in the hallways, Granger?"
Hermione suddenly felt very awkward. "Er… yes."
Pansy pulled a pin from her teeth. "It took me a long time – longer than I'd like to admit – to figure out that he only met with me on Thursday and Saturday nights. And an even longer time to realize that he would choose spots along your Prefect patrol route."
Pansy smiled up at her. And flipped the hem over to hand stitch it.
Hermione was frozen. Her heart beating hard and fast as she looked down on this girl in panic.
Pansy turned her attention back to the dress. "It wasn't until sixth year when he whispered your name to me," she said, pursing her lips sadly. "And even then I tried to ignore it for a few months."
Hermione swallowed. Her eyes watering.
"He's been waiting for you for a long time, Granger," Pansy said. "Just give him a bit more time." She shrugged and stood. "Let him have his tantrum. And when he's done crying he'll remember why he fought so hard for you."
Hermione stared at her, and all she managed to say was "I'm sorry, Pansy."
"It's not your fault." Pansy flipped her hair. "I have terrible taste in men." Her eyes widened gleefully. "Did you know Theo Nott is gay?"
"What?"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"He's so handsome."
"I know. I tried. I turned him gay."
Hermione laughed, and Pansy fixed one of her stray curls, twisting it back for her.
Pansy and Hermione spent another hour and a half laughing and talking boys, and Hermione felt any residual guilt melt off of her.
Pansy left, and Hermione tried to wait. Tried to give him time. She really did.
But she had to see him.
She'd been holed up in her office with Pansy for almost two hours, and she hadn't seen any of her staff since the morning, before the publicity shoot. She headed towards his office, but as she approached she saw his light was off. She checked her timepiece. It was 4PM.
"He's gone."
Hermione turned, and Blaise was flipping through some papers behind her.
"He left as soon as he heard."
Hermione frowned at him. "Heard what?"
Blaise looked up at her, brow furrowed. "You don't know yet?"
She felt her ribs pull, and she shook her head at him.
"Lucius Malfoy was stabbed this morning. He's at St. Mungo's in critical condition."
There were reporters and cameras outside of St. Mungo's and at the Apparition point. She heard Skeeter calling her name, saying things like "Hermione, dear! You'll tell them to let me in, yes?"
Hermione headed straight for the reception desk where the Welcome Witch directed her up to the third floor – "Wounds – Magical & Natural." She stood in the lifts, listening to the Healers talk their office gossip in hushed voices.
On the third floor, she followed signs to the private suites, and once she saw a rather conspicuous D.M.L.E. officer, "disguised" as a waiting room visitor, she knew she was headed in the right direction.
She turned a corner, and at the end of the hall were two blond heads. Narcissa stood next to a door, on the other side of a stationed guard, and Draco leaned against the wall a bit further away. He lifted himself off the wall and moved slowly across the tiles to the other wall.
Narcissa, Draco and the guard made a beautiful picture, this far away. Still. Silent. There were two chairs next to Draco, but neither he nor his mother looked inclined to sit.
Narcissa saw her first. She smiled tightly. "Hermione, dear."
She saw Draco tense and then turn his gaze on her, still down the hallway. His eyes cut her open, but he quickly looked away, muttering something.
Narcissa walked to meet her. They hugged in the middle of the hallway, a few paces from Draco and the chairs he wouldn't sit in. Narcissa gathered her close, and if she knew any of the situation between Hermione and her son, she didn't show it.
"It's so kind of you to come, Hermione." Narcissa pulled back and held her face between her delicate fingers. She brushed a strand a hair back into place for her, and Hermione felt so warm inside her chest.
"Do you know anything yet?" Hermione glanced over Narcissa's shoulder and saw Draco frowning at the ground. "Is there anyone in custody?"
"No, nothing like that yet." Narcissa ran her hands down Hermione's arms. "But it seems a guard was placed under the Imperius curse this morning, and was ordered to attack him. They're still trying to figure out if the knife had any magical properties."
"An Azkaban guard did this?" Hermione looked at the door shielding Lucius Malfoy from the rest of the world. "That's preposterous."
Draco snorted. Both women turned to look at him, and he ignored them, moving down the hall, further from them.
Narcissa turned back to her. "Sit with me?"
"Of course."
Narcissa led her to the two chairs, holding her hand in hers. They sat silently for a moment until a Healer-in-Training appeared down the hall. She walked briskly towards them, and Hermione felt Narcissa hold her breath. The girl smiled shyly and then entered a door across from them – a supply room. The girl grabbed what she needed, then shut the door behind her, nodding politely before darting away. Narcissa relaxed again, and stared down at her knees.
"Draco tells me that the first Wizengamot date is set for next week."
Hermione looked back to Narcissa, ignoring the movement from the figure down the hall. "Yes, Monday. We're just about ready."
"That's wonderful." Narcissa smiled at her, then turned to look at Draco. Hermione saw the woman's eyebrow lift in a lovely judgmental way. Narcissa looked back at Hermione, innocently. "Dear, would you like anything at the café upstairs?"
"Oh, no, thank you." She saw Draco roll his eyes in the distance and caught on a second too late. "But, I can run and grab you something—"
"No, I think I'm just going to use the restroom." Narcissa stood, and Hermione was just about to say she needed to use the restroom as well, when Narcissa did what Narcissa did best: She meddled. "Will you wait for me here?"
Hermione took a breath and nodded. Narcissa patted her shoulder and left Hermione sitting alone in a hallway with Draco Malfoy and a silent guard.
She tried to think of something to say that wasn't as moronic as "how are you?" and failed. She was just opening her mouth to say exactly that when he spoke.
"What are you doing here?"
She glanced up at him, his eyes still on the tiles beneath his feet. His lips were tight.
"I wanted to be here for you and your mother." She watched as he rolled his shoulders back.
"You should be preparing for the trial next week."
"I'm prepared."
He lifted his head, staring at the wall across from him. "Someone needs to be in charge of the office—"
"Blaise has it handled."
Draco pursed his lips.
"I understand if you don't want me here," she said. "And I'll go if it will make things easier. But I wanted to make sure Narcissa was alright."
Draco clenched his jaw. He shifted on his feet and looked down the hallway in the opposite direction.
They were silent for what felt like a million heartbeats.
"It was a knife?" she asked.
He nodded.
"And an Azkaban guard was under the Imperius curse?"
"That's what they say."
She studied him. His hands were in his pockets and his hair fell around his eyes. He looked very tired.
"Have you seen him yet?"
He shook his head. "Not until he's stable."
She heard the click of Narcissa's shoes down the hall. She returned with a cup of tea and a few treats. She handed Draco a pumpkin pasty, encouraging him to eat it. Draco rolled his eyes and Hermione smiled. Narcissa offered her a few treats and she politely declined.
Narcissa and she sat for the next thirty minutes, chatting intermittently about nothing at all, staying away from the topic of the man lying in a hospital bed behind the door.
Whenever Draco crossed the hallway, pacing, she'd watch him. One might mistake him for bored, if they didn't know to look for the tightness in his jaw, the clenching and unclenching of his fists, the movement in a rather still person.
The door to Lucius's room opened, and rather suddenly everything was in motion again.
A Healer exited, older and clearly in charge. Narcissa jumped up. Draco pulled himself off the wall. The Healer stepped forward to speak with them and Hermione stood, trying to move behind Narcissa so she wouldn't intrude.
"We've repaired the damage to his internal organs," he said, directly to Narcissa. "It is still possible that the knife was magical or had been dipped in poison. We have a curse-breaker looking at it now, but based on preliminary sweeps of the wound, there is no magic or poison."
Narcissa nodded, eyes wide.
"What does that mean?" Draco huffed.
The Healer turned to him. "We expect him to make a full recovery."
Hermione watched as Narcissa nodded, hands twisting around themselves. Draco was still.
"I do need to go over some paperwork with you, Mrs. Malfoy—"
"Black," Draco said. He was frozen in place watching the Healer speak.
"Yes, of course, Ms. Black," the Healer corrected himself. "He's resting right now, but will be ready for visitors soon."
"Yes…" Narcissa looked around the hallway. "Well, I'll come with you now for the paperwork."
She turned without another glance at Draco or Hermione, and followed the Healer down the hallway.
Hermione faced Draco, his eyes still focused on the spot the Healer had been. His jaw clenched and released. His left eye twitched. She watched him swallow and take a breath in, listening to the air rattle like a Dementor.
She recognized this. She'd seen it on him in his memories, right before he broke.
He pushed the air out of his chest, and looked down at the tiles. She approached him slowly.
"Draco…"
He spun away from her, squeezing his eyes shut, and pressing his palms against his face. She looked up, and the guard was averting his gaze, shuffling his feet. No one else was in the hallway, but it was a very public place.
Draco's head rose quickly, and the hand that had been reaching for him returned to her side. He looked around the hallway with hot eyes, like he wanted to destroy something. She came to his side, and grabbed his hand as it fisted.
His chest was heaving, and his eyes were wet.
"Draco."
And he grabbed her hand, and held it close to him as he doubled over. A sound tore from his throat, a sob. He leaned on her and she brought her free hand to run her fingers through his hair.
"Why won't he just die."
Hermione's fingers froze. She didn't know how to help this. She didn't know how it felt to wish someone was dead. Someone who was her own flesh and blood.
She moved through his hair again, and he leaned into her more. She looked up and the guard was letting his eyes wander to them. A Mediwitch rounded the hall, looking at a chart.
"Shh," she cooed. "Come with me."
Hermione opened the door to the supply closet and pulled him inside. Once the door was shut behind them his voice broke on another sob.
It was dark in the closet, and she thought about casting a silencing charm and finding the light, but then he fell forward, onto his knees and wrapped his arms around her hips, pressing his wet face against her chest.
She stopped breathing.
"I wanted him to die," he choked.
She brushed her hands through his hair, and felt him breathe again.
"I know." She felt the tears prick at her own eyes.
His arms tightened around her hips, pressing himself closer to her, and a broken sob pushed out of him, into her chest. He buried his face against her, and she held him, letting her fingers move through his hair, across his neck, down his shoulders and up again. She repeated this several times as his breath slowed. She felt his hot exhales against her stomach.
She heard him sniff as he moved his head, and she wondered if her dress was wet from his tears. The arms that looped around her hips loosened before his hands slid up her ribs, resting on her back. His face pressed against her stomach, then her sternum, and as he rose from his knees, she realized he was pressing his lips against her as his mouth touched down between her breasts.
She gasped, and his arms held her tight as his lips pressed against her chest, her collarbone, and then her neck. He whispered, hot against her ear, "I miss you."
She felt her breath coming quickly as he kissed her just below her ear, pressing her into the door.
"Draco."
He ran his hands across her back, slipping forward to run against her stomach.
This probably wasn't the most opportune time to… whatever this was.
His hands cupped her cheeks, kissing her mouth and letting his tongue push against hers. She sighed into him, and let him kiss her.
She pushed lightly at his shoulders.
"Draco. Not now." His eyes refocused on her, his face still pink and wet. He started to close off from her, like rejection, and she pulled his face to hers again for a soft kiss. His lips tried to move against hers and she pulled away. "You have to go back out there."
He sighed, pressing his forehead against hers. She moved her thumbs across his cheeks, brushing away the remaining tears, and trailing her fingers into the hair at his temples.
He let her pull him out of the supply closet, back into the too bright hallway. The guard was resolutely looking elsewhere.
"I need to…" Draco started. "I can't see him yet." He wiped his eyes, and Hermione took in his face, pink and splotchy, and the skin below his eyes puffy. He had undoubtedly been crying. It was so easy to tell. She hadn't seen true tears on him since he was a child. "I'll check on mother with the paperwork, find a washroom."
Hermione nodded. "I'll be here."
He looked at her, as if it surprised him. She gave him a small smile.
He nodded and turned to head down the hallway, her hand pulling from his as he moved away. She hadn't realized he was holding it. She watched him go, and turned to look at the guard, staring down at the tiles. She wandered toward the chairs again, but didn't want to sit.
"He's awake."
Hermione looked up and the guard was watching her.
"Oh," she said. "Wonderful."
He shrugged. "You're on the list, if you'd like to see him."
She blinked at him. "The what?"
"The list of approved visitors. Hermione Granger is on Lucius Malfoy's list."
She felt her heart in her throat. "And when did he make this list if he's been unconscious?"
"It's in the Azkaban paperwork, so I'm not sure when your name was added. But before today."
She looked beyond him to the door. She held her breath knowing she was an idiot.
"Okay."
He nodded at her and gestured for her to enter.
She pushed open the door, feeling the weight of the moment. The moment that was supposed to be reserved for blood relatives only.
Sparse room. Light blue curtains on the window and long privacy drapes around the bed in the center of the room. There were flowers on the windowsill and she was curious to know if they were for show or if someone had actually cared for Lucius Malfoy enough to send them. She heard her own footsteps against the linoleum, clapping in the silent room as she rounded the privacy curtain to find Lucius Malfoy, propped up in bed, like he'd just finished a stay at a spa.
"Miss Granger." His lips turned up in the corners. "I was hoping you would be here."
Besides the hospital gown, the hospital bed, and the pale shade to his skin, there was no difference between the sight of him now, and her visit to him in Azkaban. He wore the same curious gaze, his hair pulled into the same style, and his superior attitude had not wilted one bit.
"Mr. Malfoy." She stood one step from the foot of his bed. "I'm surprised to find that I was included on your visitor list." She heard her voice, measured and controlled. She hoped her face gave the same façade.
"Of course, Miss Granger." His eyes sparkled at her. "You're practically family, after all."
Hermione felt a shiver, starting at the top of her spine and shooting through her like the Cruciatus curse.
She looked closer, and found the thin skin around the eyes, the delicate way he was propped against the pillows, the drowsy tilt of his head. She had nothing to be afraid of. This man had played all his cards when he told Draco about the classes. And he clearly posed no physical threat to her. It was a mental match she had to prepare for.
She took a deep breath and looked him directly in the eyes. "Why did you tell Draco about the classes? What possible motivation could you have had for that?"
He smirked at her, so different and so similar to Draco. "I assumed he already knew. I had no idea the two of you would keep secrets from each other."
He was toying with her, like a mouse. She summoned something deep inside of herself and felt her brow curve upwards.
"How boring it must be. To be in Azkaban with no one to play with." She stepped forward, and brought her hands down to lean on the rail at the foot of his bed. "Were things getting a bit too comfortable for you?" She quirked her head to the side and saw his eyes follow her. "Narcissa wasn't speaking to you. Your son's inheritance – the only thing that still tied him to you – was leaking away. And I was playing by your rules." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Was it time to spice things up?"
His lips twitched. She watched as his eyes ran over her face, a smile spreading on his cheeks.
"How different you are, Miss Granger," he sang. She squeezed the bedrail and kept her eyes as clear as she could. "I could credit Madame Michele for refining your approach, Miss Parkinson for styling you just so, or Miss Truesdale for teaching you how to move…" He let his eyes wander across her form, and she held her ground. "But it's something else as well," he said, eyes meeting hers again.
She sent him an icy stare, and let the sarcasm drip into her voice. "Now, now. Don't say it was 'in me all along.' Not when I've gone through all this trouble."
He smiled. Almost a true smile. He looked directly into her eyes and said, "You'll make a fine Lady Malfoy for him, Miss Granger."
Any confidence she had left her in a puff of air. She felt her eye twitch, and her lungs seize. She pulled up from her arrogant lean forward on the bedrail, and lost all idea of what to do with her hands.
She searched his face for his game. And found almost a fondness there. There was acceptance. There was pride. And if she reached deep into his eyes, she could almost see an expression lost in her memory, one that belonged to her own father.
What was he doing? What game was this?
"I don't understand," she breathed.
"You know, Miss Granger," he said, looking to the window on his left. "The Malfoy inheritance is only to be released on the heir's wedding day. It's been that way for centuries. And it would only be released should the bride be approved of." He turned back and grinned at her. "You would have taken those classes sooner or later. Draco wanted the inheritance sooner. So, I upped the timeline."
Hermione felt her hands shaking. She shouldn't have come in here.
The confidence he had. The feeling of inevitability. Pansy's sad smile as she flipped her hem this morning. Blaise's gentle probing this week. Narcissa and her hugs and grins and gentle touches and mothering eyes and family diamonds.
"Once you released the inheritance, you wouldn't have had any control over his bride," she whispered. "So, you manipulated me into taking the classes."
"Come now, Miss Granger. You manipulated yourself. I hardly had to do a thing."
He grinned without malice. Without a conniving plan. It was like he'd played his final card, and the deck had been swept away already.
She felt angry tears in her eyes. "Why did you do all this? Why did you interfere?" She closed her eyes, thinking of Blaise, Pansy, Narcissa. Ginny and Harry. Marcus Flint even… "All of you."
"I've already told you, Miss Granger," he chuckled. She opened her eyes to see him looking at her softly. "Everything I do, I do for my son."
She thought of his "proposal" last November. Take the classes, wedding in the gazebo, shadow Narcissa at society balls, and she could have had him.
She shook her head, pressing her lips together. "Well, Mr. Malfoy. Was it worth it? This game you've set up, with pawns and queens. Was it worth your pending divorce and your destroyed relationship with your son? They'll never want to see you again."
She tried to hiss at him, but she could only look on sadly.
"Oh, I don't know about that, Miss Granger." He lifted an arrogant brow. "I believe they're just on the other side of this door."
She blinked at him. And a chill swept through her as a piece clicked into place. She stepped back. "Was the guard even Imperius'd?"
Lucius grinned at her. Proudly. Fatherly.
"He's been well compensated, Miss Granger. I assure you," Lucius said. "It was about time to… what did you call it?" He smirked at her. "Oh, yes. Spice things up."
The door burst open and she turned to find Draco's hot eyes on her.
"Get away from him."
She felt her breath coming in short spontaneous movements. She stepped back from the bed, seeing the betrayed expression on his face as he rounded the privacy curtain, and turned to his father. She watched as Lucius smiled.
"Draco. So good of you to come."
The anger rippled through Draco's shoulders as he stepped in front of her, shielding her from his father's view.
"Stay away from her. Don't talk to her."
"Draco, she came to find me."
"Don't." It burst from her. She looked Lucius Malfoy in the eye until she saw it land on him. "Stop using me against him. The game is done." She held his pale eyes until he looked away, almost pouting, resigned.
"Hermione, please leave us alone," Draco said.
Her name on his lips paused her. She took one last look at Lucius Malfoy, hoping she'd never see or hear from him again in her lifetime, and knowing it was a foolish wish.
Draco touched her arm, pulling her gaze back to him. "Please go." His eyes were soft. "I'll see you in the morning."
She turned to find Narcissa standing quietly in the doorway, just out of her husband's sight. She gave Hermione a tired smile.
Hermione brushed her fingers across Draco's hand on her arm, and looked up at him and nodded. His eyes flew to her lips, and she wished he would kiss her goodbye.
She turned, pulling from Draco's grasp, and approached Narcissa in the doorway. Narcissa touched her shoulder as she passed, a gentle comfort, and Hermione exited.
Narcissa stepped fully into the room, and Hermione wondered at this family reunion. The first time Hermione had seen the three of them in the same space since the Great Hall at Hogwarts, all pale and shaken, Lucius trying to hold onto his pride, Narcissa trying to hold onto her son, and Draco trying to hold onto his control. And Hermione, looking in on them.
Narcissa closed the door behind herself.
She nodded at the guard and walked down the long hallway to the exits.