A/N- Wow. I've been busy. That's all really, sorry I've been gone so long. I lost motivation for a while, but here I am with a new chapter! It's a bit short, because I wanted to consult all you wonderful readers. See the A/N at the bottom.
Thanks for those who reviewed, faved and followed! You all are awesome.
Disclaimer: I didn't get any money from this story (sadly) and Harry Potter ain't mine (sadly).
Ps. Some swearing in this chapter.
Chapter Twenty Five
Blaise stood across from Draco, arm outstretched.
"Despite the circumstances, it was nice seeing you again mate,"
Draco chuckled darkly, a small smile working its way onto his face. The duo examined the room, and all the damage that had been brought to it, each lost in his own mind.
Lucius, who was gagged and on his knees next to Bellatrix on the floor, began to struggle listlessly. Blaise rolled his eyes, reaching for his wand.
"Never thought you'd miss Azkaban, Malfoy," He bit out, grabbing the Death Eater's matted blonde hair, "I guess you forgot what it was like since your last stay. Well, let's refresh your memory, why don't we?"
Draco smirked at the witty comment. He took a step toward his father, the expression on his face conflicted. He looked pained, as though if he touched Lucius he'd implode with nothing but scraps of his muggle clothes left.
"Ungag him,"
The words were harsh, the tone of voice one that the old Draco used on a daily basis. Blaise was so shocked at the cold sound that he automatically began to undo the knot keeping the gag in place around the back of Lucius' head. The blonde shook his head ruefully after the action had been completed, and a slow, grim smile spread across his face.
It was odd, really. Lucius had never looked so alike Draco. But yet, at the same time, they had never looked more different.
"Well, well, well, son," The word was meant to be mocking, and Blaise could not tell if it had the desired effect on his friend or not, "Have you taken pity on your old man at last?"
"Hardly," Draco muttered, rubbing a hand across his lips. It was a sort of nervous tick of his, one that Blaise had not seen since Hogwarts days.
"Draco…"
"Shut up, Blaise," Draco snapped, rounding on his friend. Blaise willed his face to be void of any and all emotion, despite the long day he'd had. Honestly, he wasn't up for this little game Draco was playing. He wanted to get back to London as soon as possible so he could inform the Order what had happened.
Well, perhaps some events would be emitted.
"Shut up, Blaise," Lucius repeated in a high-pitched tone. Blaise half hissed, half growled, jabbing his wand into the prisoner's cheek.
"Why don't you shut up, Lucius,"
Lucius chuckled, but otherwise remained silent.
"Draco, what are you doing?"
"I'm thinking, Blaise. Ever heard of it?"
So Blaise seethed in silence for several long minutes. He kept the wand stationary in Malfoy's cheek, even though his arm was getting tired.
Well, he had just been in a battle, hadn't he?
Finally, Draco opened his mouth, eyes set directly on his father.
"I want to know one thing. One thing."
"As the muggles say, 'shoot'" Lucius responded, curling his lip slightly. Draco nodded, gathering his wit.
"Why the muggle mail?"
Lucius stared at his son.
"What?"
Draco reached into his pocket, retrieving the worn photograph. Its edges were creased and crumpled, as though Draco had been running his hands over it again and again.
"Why did you send this to me?"
To an outsider, it would appear that Draco was calm and collected. Blaise, however, knew his friend better than that. He could see the rage boiling beneath his skin, ready to erupt at any possible moment.
Lucius, on the other hand, looked completely confused. For the first time in a long while, his face was completely open. The former Death Eater did not smirk or smile or say cruel things. He stared at the picture in something akin to shock, his eyes going wide.
"I didn't send that to you, son—"
"I AM NOT YOUR SON!" Draco screamed, throwing the photo at his father's face. For a second, an emotion that could've been seen as hurt flashed across Lucius' face, but it was gone as soon as it came.
The smirk was back.
"Whatever you may think, Draco, I did not send you or your comrades a picture via muggle mail,"
"You're lying," Draco hissed, rounding on his father with an accusatory look, "You're nothing but a lying sack of shi—"
"Draco," Blaise cut in, hyperaware of their audience. Mr. Xaing was standing in the doorway, a trembling hand held to his lips.
Draco exhaled, his shoulders sagging in a defeated way. Blaise bit back his own yawn; it had been a long day to say the least.
After setting up a plan of action with Draco and Hermione, they'd made their way back to the house. It was a crap plan, but they didn't know when Lucius was going to show up and they needed to be ready. Draco had set up a backup plan for Orion; his secretary would watch a heavily warded park, where only the three of them could apperate in and out of.
To be honest, Blaise hadn't thought it would work. But it did. Except for Benjamin dying. And the destruction of the kitchen. And all the muggles in the house finding out about their magic.
Oops.
"Listen mate, I need to get these three to Shacklebolt,"
Draco sighed, nodding, "I know, I know… I just… what am I supposed to tell them? I killed their son Blaise—"
Blaise ran a hand across his forehead, "You didn't kill their son, Draco, indirectly or otherwise. Nobody could've prevented it,"
The blonde still looked unconvinced, but the moment passed when Bellatrix stirred from her unconscious state.
"I'd better get going," Blaise commented, reaching down to re-gag Malfoy. Draco stepped forward, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. Blaise had never seen anything more refreshing.
It'd been a while since he'd seen something that genuine on his friend's face.
"Don't be a stranger, Zabini. I'm going to need some help cleaning up this whole mess. Just don't send the Order into my backyard and we're good,"
Grasping the outstretched hand, Blaise smiled back at his fellow Slytherin.
"Wouldn't dream of it. Tell Granger I said goodbye, and give Lucy a kiss for me,"
"I don't think that's going to happen, mate," Draco told him steadily, eyes crinkling with laugh lines.
Blaise shrugged, "A bloke can try, can't he?"
Releasing him, Draco stepped back. "You're not actually going to apperate with these three, are you? Isn't that a bit much?"
Shaking his head, the dark-haired man pulled a bronze bracelet from his pocket, "No. I've got other means of transportation,"
Blaise adjusted his prisoners' hands so they were all touching the portkey, and shot his best friend one last smile. He could feel the metal grow warm under their combined touch and the magic of the spell. Blaise felt a familiar tug behind his navel, and then there was nothing.
One Hour Earlier
Draco was vaguely aware that someone was screaming, but he was too tired to even move his head. He was emotionally and physically drained; he hadn't experienced such a fight since the Battle of Hogwarts. He was still cradling Hermione in his arms, who was fast asleep. At some point Orion had joined them, burrowing into his mother's warmth.
Blaise was speaking quietly to Jasmine, who was sobbing softly. Bellatrix, Theo and Lucius were bound by ropes and magical bonds alike, silenced by gags, for which Draco was grateful. If he heard another word from his father's mouth, Draco was going to reconsider not murdering him.
Hermione shifted next to him, burrowing her nose into the fabric of his shirt. Draco tugged her closer, jostling Orion a bit. He stirred, rolling over in his sleep.
"Well isn't this just a fucking Kodak moment,"
Lucy seemed to tower over the trio, though she wasn't very intimidating. Her eyes and nose were red, and her chin was quivering. Dammit, Draco was too tired for this. He knew he'd screwed up, royally, but it wasn't entirely his fault.
Just mostly.
"Lucy…"
"Don't 'Lucy' me, Evan McDermitt!" She crossed her arms angrily, "What the hell happened? Huh? My mother's kitchen is destroyed, you're cuddled up with Julia and… and my ex-husband is fucking dead!"
Tears had begun to stream down her face again, leaving Draco in an awkward position.
(Awkward? AWKWARD?! She'd just lost someone important to her, for Merlins' sake…)
Draco rubbed his eyes tiredly, pushing all the unwanted thoughts from his mind.
"I'm… I'm sorry, Lucy,"
"Well 'Sorry' isn't going to cut it, Evan," She whispered, the fury drained out of her. Nothing was left but defeat and emptiness, her shoulder sagging and eyes fresh with new tears.
Draco smiled sadly at her, focusing on her colorful left earring to prevent his own tears from falling, "I know, Lucy. I know,"
She nodded, firmly, and turned to leave.
"I don't hate you, Evan. I just wish we'd talked about this earlier. This could've been prevented, you know,"
Her voice was barely audible, but it carried across the few feet of space and straight into Draco's heart. The truthfulness of her words struck him dumb, and he sat thinking over what Lucy had said long after she had left the room.
X
Hermione was asleep when Draco finally made his way up to her room. The cleanup process had been tedious to say the least, and for now it seemed that everyone was content with walking on eggshells around each other. Draco was exhausted, emotionally and physically. He almost wished that Blaise had stuck around, if to do nothing more than offer moral support.
Oh well. There wasn't much to be done at this point. Draco had permanently screwed these people's lives up, and he fully expected to be loathed in this town for the rest of his life. It was stupid, settling in here. Making friends… what a load of rubbish. All his friends were dead or mentally scarred in some way or another.
Draco Malfoy was just no damn good. For anybody.
Or that's what he told himself, at least, as he pushed Hermione's door in softly. The sight of the brunette asleep under the covers with Orion snuggled at her side was enough to warm his recently frozen heart. Hermione sighed in her sleep and rolled over.
Draco approached the bed, sitting in a nearby chair. Careful not to wake her, he took her hand, applying pressure as needed.
Had he been a Gryffindor, Draco would've left her a heartfelt note, explaining everything. If he had been chivalrous, he would've let her live the rest of her life in peace. Surely she didn't really want him, the Malfoy heir who used to call her disgusting names and spread lies about her. He'd raped her, for crying out loud! He was pitiful, and deserved to be without love for the rest of his days. He should let her move on, along with their son, because they were so much better than he was—
Realizing that he had fallen into a familiar, self-loathing thought process, Draco sat up straighter in his chair. He was a Malfoy, and Malfoys did not think such horrid things about themselves, even if he was no longer a Malfoy by name. His blood would never change; the pride for his ancestors overriding the hatred he felt for his father. His father had made it fairly clear that what fortune was left from their family estate would not be going to Draco, however.
Draco didn't want to let Hermione go. He wanted to be a Slytherin, to be cunning and witty and so incredibly selfish. He wanted to wrap her up in a blanket and carry her back to his place, Orion resting on his shoulders. He wanted to kiss her goodnight and wrap his arms around her with a gentle caress to the cheek and neck. He wanted to keep her, beg for her forgiveness over and over, waiting for the blessed words to cross her sweet lips.
He needed her.
"Oh bloody hell," Draco whispered, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb, "You're an idiot, Draco Malfoy,"
Somewhere along the line, he'd gone and fallen in love with Hermione Granger.
And she was never his. She deserved far better.
Before he could process this realization, Hermione began to stir. She half moaned, half whimpered, stretching out her limbs languidly. Her lashes fluttered gently, and she opened her mouth to yawn. Loudly.
"Hmmmm… Hello, Draco,"
Hermione's voice was thick with sleep, and Draco couldn't help but find it incredibly endearing, and… sexy.
"Hermione," He replied, not trusting himself to say much more than her name.
Fortunately, Hermione filled in the gaps.
"How long was I out? It wasn't too long, was it? Did Blaise leave already? I wanted to say goodbye to him. And thank him, for everything. You know, saving our skin and all. I'm happy that your father is gone, no offence of course—"
"Granger," Draco interrupted sharply. Her honey-brown gaze snapped to his own, alarmed. "You're blabbering," He added in a much softer tone.
Hermione giggled, actually giggled, before tugging at his arm. Draco hadn't even realized that he hadn't let go, and proceeded to do just that.
Hermione looked reluctant to release him, but she didn't say much about it. Instead she reached over, stroking Orion's hair lovingly.
"He's growing up so fast,"
Draco smiled, somewhat sadly, nodding in agreement, "Yeah. We might have to lock him up, just in case,"
Hermione's jaw clenched, and Draco wanted to snatch the vile words out of the air and shove them back into his mouth.
"I… I didn't mean…"
Silence.
"It's all right, Draco," Hermione whispered, relaxing into her pillow once more, "It's all right…"
There was another moment of silence, in which Draco was violently assaulting himself inside his mind.
"How's Madam Quincie holding up? And Lucy?"
Grateful for the distraction, Draco answered, "They're doing alright, considering what happened. Some of the other borders are out of sorts, but I didn't even hear what they were saying, to be honest. Jasmine is taking it surprisingly well, but I overheard Blaise talking to her a few minutes before he left… He calmed her down, you know? Told her that it was all over at this point…"
Hermione reached for his hand, grasping it with her own. Their fingers laced together comfortably, as though they'd done it hundreds of times before.
"Draco…"
"Hm?"
"I just… I want you to know that… I do want this,"
Draco could feel his cheeks beginning to grow warm, "You mean…" He made a gesture between them, "This this?"
"Yes, but… but I don't want it right now. We've got quite a lot to work through, don't you think?"
Draco had to admit she had a point. If he thought about it hard enough, he saw how flawed they were. Hermione was at the height of her life, with nothing holding her down except for Orion. Which Hermione didn't mind, of course, but there was nothing stopping her if she wanted to, say, up and move to South Africa tomorrow.
And Draco. Well. There wasn't much to say about himself. He was a pretty boy with daddy issues and a cult tattoo.
"That isn't to say I won't want it in the future. I do, Draco, believe me, I do. I just need… some time. Time to get my life in order,"
Hermione sighed, pressing her lips to their conjoined hands. That action alone was enough to make both adults feel less alone. They might've not grasped the concept, but they had each other.
"Plus… we need to help sort things out with Madam Quincie,"
Draco knew he'd have to face the fierce housekeeper eventually, but until that time came, he was perfectly happy hiding out in Hermione's room with her and their son.
The very son who was currently wrestling about in the covers.
"Ronnie?" Hermione pulled him closer, resisting the flailing arms, "Ronnie!"
The boy startled awake, his eyes wide open. He saw his mother, relaxing into her embrace.
"M-mummy…"
"Shh," Hermione smoothed his hair down, curling her fingers through it, "Shh, Ronnie, it's ok. It's over,"
Draco knew he would have to deal with Madam Quincie soon enough. His stomach churned at the thought. He knew he'd have to explain to the boarders as to what happened, and that they were never to speak of it again. He knew he'd have to track down Clara and thank her for her efforts.
But those things could wait for a few hours more.
Sighing, Draco sat on the bed, removing his dirt-encrusted shoes from his feet.
"D-Draco—"
"Quiet, Granger," Draco muttered, a nearly invisible smirk touching his lips, "I just need a nap is all,"
"I thought we agreed, Malfoy, that we were on a first name basis,"
Draco chuckled softly, rolling onto his back. Orion was already asleep again, and Draco hoped that his dreams were nothing but pleasant.
"I guess we did, Hermione,"
A/N- another lame sleepy ending! I would've kept going, but I wanted to consult you readers. From this point, I have several ways that this story could go planned out (not written, sadly). However! I'm not sure which way is the best to go, so I wanted a consensus from all of those that still bother to read this story! The option I am currently leaning toward is wrapping this story up neatly with a bow on top, because I need to move on. This is the longest piece of writing I've ever written that is worth mentioning (the rest descended into madness after about fifteen chapters. See: Into the Past. Not sure what I'm going to do with that, if anyone cares), and despite it's flaws, I love it. However, I think it needs to be completely ended, because I want Hermione and Draco to live happily ever after with Orion in tow!
The second option is to continue with this same story, with a new plot line that will develop from a few loose ends I've left hanging until the last possible moment. It will most likely pick up from the "epilogue" chapter, which is two chapters from now. I'm not 100% sure where that story would go, but I'd figure it out before continuing, of course.
The third option is to write a separate sequel with a new plot line that include the same characters, except for that the story will be about Orion. When he is older. I started writing that version about halfway through this story, but I didn't like the way it turned out. So I'd rewrite it, of course.
The fourth option is drabbles, that I'd update whenever, about their life, without much plot. This is my least favorite option.
OK! So, sorry about that long rant. I just want to get a general opinion, because I am unsure what I want to do exactly. So, if you have a preference, review or PM me, I don't care which. I just would like some feedback. Thank you so much for reading, sorry again this was so late!