Hermione excused herself to the kitchen to start packaging up some of the leftovers for the Weasley's, calling for Potter's help when she realized just how much she had overcooked, and Draco was once again left alone with Weasley.
I really should work on calling them all by their given names, given how determined they are to use mine.
Wea—Ron—coughed and summoned two new beer from the cooler, no walls or windows in his way, and handed one to Draco. For all his complaints against the youngest Weasley boy growing up, Draco appreciated the efforts the man was making now to keep things civilized.
"You're giving me the same look Hermione's been throwing me all night," Ron accused, opening both bottles with a quick flourish of his wand.
Draco shrugged, sipped his drink, and denied nothing.
"To be frank, I've been waiting for one of us to start screaming or throwing things. Gods know Granger made enough food," answered Draco with a feigned drawl, refusing to linger on how foreign it felt now to call Hermione by her surname.
Ron smirked and shrugged, agreeing.
"I'm rough around the edges and I tend to react before I think. I get that, and before now, I didn't have someone to tell me to pull my head out of my – ", he stopped and looked over Draco's shoulder, double checking the witch was still preoccupied in the kitchen only to see her watching the two of them talk. She frowned at Ron when they locked eyes, so he stood and gestured for Draco to follow him as they walked to the far side of the backyard and away from her judgmental stare.
"Bloody hypocrite that one: she drops four arses a day and glares at me if I say it once. Absolutely mental," Ron muttered as they walked.
"Anyway," he continued, turning and deliberately showing Hermione his back, "I was all for leaving you in Azkaban."
Well, no reason for him to lie about that.
"It caused a lot of fights and was part of the reason 'Mione and I split. But she made a good argument: it's only justice if it would be the same for anyone else. I'd think things would have been different if it were my family over yours, and I'd hope I wouldn't go to prison for doing whatever it took to protect my mum," Weasley said, his face dark at the idea. He took a very long drink, which Draco mirrored.
"So yeah, I still think it's weird that my two best friends technically married each other – even if they say they didn't – just to spring you out of prison, but I guess I get why. You and I, we were raised in wizarding tradition, as much as you might think Weasley's ignored it all. We didn't. Harry and Hermione don't see a bonding ritual as being all that important compared to letting you rot in Azkaban, which is what has half the Wizarding world up in a panic."
Draco nodded, just imaging the turmoil outside his little bubble. Hermione and Po—Harry—had taken the time away from work to help Draco readjust to life on the outside. Doctors, glasses, a new wand; those were the tangible steps towards recovery. Learning how to sleep in a real bed again, trusting his food, carrying on a full conversation – without crying or screaming or going completely silent – took longer and had fewer milestones to celebrate.
He could still remember how Lucius had returned from Azkaban after Dumbledore died, a shell of a man after only a year behind bards, and was grateful dementors were no longer guarding Azkaban.
Hermione was of course leading the charge in Draco's recovery and resettlement, but after the explosion the previous week, Harry had stopped treating Draco like they were both still twelve and flinging hexes at each other in the halls. Draco was more than happy to give this new world where Malfoy's and Potters and muggleborn witches with too much heart could get along a chance.
He would eventually have to say as much to the Wonder Duo but odds are he would just muck that up, so he was in no hurry.
. . . . .
Hermione joined the two and tried to find out what they'd been discussing but neither would say. It seemed they'd built a tentative friendship though so Hermione wouldn't pry, in case that damaged the delicate balance they had reached.
She walked Ron to the floo, Draco following them as far as the kitchen where Harry was helping himself to seconds of cake and offered Draco a slice, which he accepted. Hermione appreciated it and smiled to Harry, grabbing the shrunken down leftovers for Ron and leading him to the parlour.
"You doing okay?" Ron asked, barely holding back his smile.
"I don't need to know everything, Ron, I just like to."
He chuckled and nodded, not willing to disagree with here, before putting the offered leftovers in his pocket.
"Thank you for today, Ron. The files, everything." Hermione said pointedly, hugging her best friend.
He shirked her arms off, his face tinted more red than usual as he huffed indignantly.
"That's what that look you've been giving me all night was, you and Harry both! You were expecting me to throw a fit!"
Hermione shrugged lightly, her face guilty.
"Bloody hell! You throw a tantrum or two growing up and suddenly you friends walk around you like you're a nutter! I may not be Harry but I can damn well keep my temper in check."
Hermione smirked before telling Ron all about the state of the kitchen nook after Draco and Harry finally snapped and lashed out at each other. She didn't expect him to look so mollified by the revelation, but the hint of smugness in his eye was a little predictable.
Ron considered that for a moment. "That helps. Thanks. Besides, if I were to yell at him, I'd go from sleeping alone in my bed to sleeping alone on my couch when Pansy gets home."
Hermione stifled a laugh at the idea before asking where her Slytherin friend was now.
"Milan. They have one last stop in Paris after that and then she's home for the foreseeable future. Between you telling her about my good behavior and her good mood from Draco being released, I'm very much looking forward to having my girlfriend back in town."
Hermione scrunched her face up, not at all looking forward to hearing the inevitable salacious details at the next girls night, then tilted her head ever so slightly. She hadn't spoken with Draco about any of his old friends from school, despite being friends with them herself now, because he hadn't asked yet.
"Does Draco know you're dating his ex?"
Ron smirked and shook his head.
"No, I thought that might make for a lovely surprise next time we swing over."