The door creaked loudly, jolting them apart before they even had time to actually feel their lips touching. Hermione clenched her eyes shut in annoyance as they righted themselves, and groaned, a bit louder than she'd intended. When she opened them, Draco was smirking, his upper cheeks a deep pink colour but his gaze oddly firm on her.
"I've calmed down." Were Blaise's first words and Hermione forgot her annoyance to cock a sceptical eyebrow at the tall dark-skinned wizard. He sighed, apparently oblivious to his interruption. "I would have laughed too and probably thrown something bigger if it had been any of you." He then threw himself back on the armchair, and instantly fidgeted as crumbs apparently bothered him under his bottom. Hermione chuckled mockingly. What he did next made the three of them laugh out loud. He screwed his face in a pompous expression, lifted his chin up and probed a hand on his right hip:
"We are not children any more!" His imitation of her was almost perfect and after laughing a good five minutes with them Hermione scowled:
"Do I really look like that?"
"Sometimes you still have a bit of the old Granger from school poking out yeah." He smirked and Draco chuckled quietly next to her. She pouted, more out of principle than anything else and Blaise gave her one of his grins in answer. Then, they started talking work, and she realised that the previous moment had passed, and that Blaise wouldn't allow them some privacy. Draco had probably realised it too, for while he kept the conversation going with Blaise, he also kept giving her quick glances.
Hermione learned that they were going on another intervention on Monday, for possibly three days.
"What for?"
"You know the old shop you made Weasley investigate? It's reopened but on the black market. The old vendor didn't give up. He's hiding pretty well but Longbottom found him." Explained Blaise.
"Oh."
"Yes, he's now selling poorly made copies of the family parchment too. Except it's only a concealment charm that keeps anyone else from reading its content. A tap of a wand and everyone can read it." Scowled Draco. "I have no idea how he found out we had these."
"If Lestrange was as careless with it as he was with the stone, I wouldn't be surprised if he actually asked the vendor himself to make fake parchments to scam people. They were in need of money after all." Shrugged Hermione. Lestrange had kept the stone in his pocket, which hadn't proven the wisest move of all.
"That's actually plausible. I'll tell Longbottom to add that for interrogation." Nodded Draco.
"Bloody know-it-all …" Muttered Blaise jokingly. Hermione pulled her tongue at him and instantly lifted a warning finger to his smirking face:
"No imitation." She only got a huge grin in response.
They spent another moment chatting and when Hermione started wondering if Draco hadn't shuffled a bit closer to her, Blaise stood and said he'd fetch dinner.
She was left alone with him again, but he apparently felt a bit too nervous to start where they'd left things before. He was fidgeting.
"What's wrong?" She asked warily, hoping for an answer that might not leave his mouth.
"I … Before he came in …"
"Yes?" She helped as his eyes kept avoiding hers.
"I was about to …" He cleared his throat loudly.
"I know." She tried for a smile and his eyes darted to hers in surprise, as if he'd thought she'd deny or ignore it.
They looked at each other a moment and the more it lasted, the more his face regained its composure. The worried line between his brows smoothed, his eyes widened ever so slightly and finally the corner of his mouth lifted. He hadn't shaved that morning. There was a light shadow of ashen blond along his jaw and under his nose that made him look less princely groomed. She watched his chest rise and fall a bit faster than before, and made the first move this time. She lifted a hand to the line of his jaw. It felt rough and soft at the same time. She realised she'd never touched his face before, only his hands. She felt the urge to remedy it. The memory of him kissing her forehead while he'd thought she'd been asleep resurfaced too and she smiled. She'd been smiling before though. He leaned in her touch as she traced the hollow of his cheek and she was about to come closer when Blaise came back in, again.
This was just becoming insufferable. Getting interrupted all the time. Obviously they weren't about to jump on each other, they needed time to build the moment and everyone kept poking their irritating nose all the time.
They had something, they both wanted something, and they'd need to find a moment to get that something. Determinately scowling Hermione ate her diner in silence while Draco half-answered Blaise's babble, his mind somewhere else.
Once she was finished she stood, banished her plate to the kitchen with a flick of her wand, and decided to do something that might grant them some time alone together later. She pecked Draco on the cheek before moving to the door, throwing a "Good night" over her shoulder. She didn't miss the complete startled face Draco sported, neither Blaise's wide smirk on her way out.
At least she'd made a move too.
Draco couldn't believe she'd done that. She obviously had been very annoyed with Blaise's presence, and the lad had been so right it still blasted his mind. He had a shot with her. A real shot. Blaise was talking or more extolling like a teenage boy on the Quidditch pitch, but Draco wasn't listening. He hadn't really believed in it until this very moment. And he could still put doubts as he remembered her pecking Longbottom's cheek the same way.
But it hadn't been that. They'd been about to kiss, twice in less than a few hours, and probably realising it wouldn't happen that night, she had managed to show that she wanted it to happen.
She was amazing. And he could still feel her lips on his left cheek. She wanted it too. She wanted something with him and now he could tell himself so: it felt wonderful.
Scowling at his own smug smile, he finally shook his head to listen to Blaise. The lad was happily complimenting himself.
"Good night Blaise." He sighed exasperatedly and went to bed. He settled under the covers and fell asleep, a smug smile screwing his face, but he didn't care, she liked him, and there was no one to see his face anyway.
He woke up in the exact same mood he'd fallen asleep in. After getting ready for work he headed to the kitchen, and wasn't surprised to find that Blaise wasn't there yet. He had almost emptied his cup of coffee when the last came in, carrying a letter he threw at Draco, yawningly saying:
"S'for you."
Narcissa Malfoy was a resourceful woman. How she'd heard that her son was going on a mission the next day was beyond Draco's imagination. Especially now that she was secluded hundreds of miles away. Of course she was requesting, or more hiding her demand under polite and subtle words, for him to visit her that night before going. Draco couldn't refuse. He'd answer her at the office.
He stood and went back to his bedroom to grab his intervention bag, for he wouldn't be back at Grimmaud before Wednesday. That's when his guts twisted. His head jolted up instantly. Hermione.
She was fast asleep and he wouldn't see her until Wednesday night. She wouldn't know and possibly wait for him to come back after work. He refused to write on the parchment, after setting the kitchen of fire, if she started blowing up Potter's walls too he might not really appreciate it. If he had possessed a bit of courage he might have woken her up but he had to admit that he wouldn't dare.
His last resort was to leave a note at her bedroom door. After all, they both seemed to want their moment, and warning her that it was delayed to Wednesday night was only fair. He tore a piece of parchment from a random scroll on his desk, and wrote quickly:
Hermione,
I have to visit my mother tonight or I'll risk her wrath. I won't be home until we come back from intervention, Wednesday night.
If anything, write.
Yours,
Draco.
He thought twice at the closing, but decided to keep it. She already knew anyway. At the last second he added, as she'd be left alone in there with that horrid house elf:
P.S.: Brown's not coming to this one.
Then he went up the stairs, and stopped at her door. The floor was completely silent, and Draco remembered she'd said she'd silence her room. She probably had. Magically sticking the note to her door, he took a step away when said door banged open, making him jump like never.
"What …" He cut himself. Hermione stood at the door frame, her hair a gigantic mess of wild curls that fell all over her face and shoulders. Her eyes were still pleated with sleep and her frown deep. Her wand was drown. She must have heard him. It took a moment for recognition to hit her eyes, during which his mouth fell agape. How he would like to wake up to that short gown every morning. How he would enjoy having her snuggled in his arms, her soft mane of hair all over his face.
What a disturbing thought that was. He'd gone so soft he was mushy all over now. But she was so …
Hermione lowered her wand. It was just Draco. What had he be doing there? She was about to ask when his oddly blushing and unshaven face came closer. He reached for her with both arms, and before she could even process what was happening she was wrapped against his hard chest. His cologne sent was strong, he'd just put it on, and his heart was beating against her cheek. Still half-asleep she unthinkingly wrapped her arms around his middle in return. He rested his chin atop her head then and she sighed. Was there a better way to wake up?
"I have to go." He murmured, as if talking would break the moment. He didn't let go of her though, and she had no intention of letting go either.
"Quit combing your bloody hair already we're late!" Blaise's voice made them both jump and pouting Hermione finally let his robes loose. He loosened his arms but kept them around her, then, gently took her shoulders in his hands. His face was so pink it was … well if it'd been anyone but him she would have dared call it cute. She bit her lip to refrain her grin but he didn't seem to notice as he leaned in and pressed a kiss, a real, firm kiss, on her forehead.
Then he withdrew, leaving her there, heart racing, and very much disappointed to see him go. Or more that he hadn't dared kiss her lower. Turning around to her door only once she couldn't see his back any longer, she noticed a note magically glued to the smooth wooden surface.
Oh, so that had been a goodbye then. As she read it again, the grin that took her mouth was impossible to refrain this time.
If anything, write.
She wouldn't of course. Depending on what he was doing, it could only perturb his work. But he'd offered anyway.
Yours. That was something. She'd keep the note. His perfect handwriting made it real. It wasn't on the parchment, it was forever written there. She could read it whenever she wanted to. He wouldn't be able to read that whenever, but remembering the day they'd parted ways after the camp night, her smug grin well in place, she went back in her bedroom and settled at her desk with her parchment.
- Be careful.
- I will, see you Wednesday night?
- Of course.
She didn't care when he came back, she'd wait.
She realised around lunch time though that waiting was insufferable. She couldn't concentrate on her notes for Draco kept coming to mind every minute or so. She had to do something or she'd go nuts. She went down to the kitchen and instead of fixing herself some lunch, she threw a fist fool of floo powder in the chimney, and called:
"Lavender Brown." Draco didn't leave her mind as she realised he knew her better than she'd thought. He'd told her Lavender would be around.
She kneeled difficultly down before the earth and put her head right through the flames.
Lavender's office was as messy as it'd always been.
"Is something wrong Mione?"
"No. Are you busy for lunch?"
"No. What did you have in mind?"
"The three broomsticks?"
"Meet you there in fifteen?" She grinned.
"Perfect."
That was settled. Hermione hadn't left Grimmaud place in an eternity, and she'd be able to visit Minerva once Lavender would be back to work. Sure the head-mistress of Hogwarts wasn't busy on Sunday afternoons.
Draco took his lunch in the training room, between two last minute exercises. He'd be the ward breaker of this intervention. His day was perfectly scheduled to keep his mind at work, and not on that gown. At two o'clock he'd start physical training with Thomas and he'd be done with reviewing the wards by then.
That was without the interruption. Potter poked his head in the room at one thirty seven.
"Malfoy? Your mother floo-called, and she's not happy. You didn't answer her."
"Damn. Give me a minute."
"All right, but she doesn't seem to appreciate kneeling. She looks beyond pissed off and I need my office." Shit, if his mother still had her precious head in Potter's office, she had to indeed be beyond pissed off. Draco winced but followed Potter right away.
His mother was outraged with the waiting.
"Draco." She simply said. Her voice felt like ice down his spine, very much as it had when he was a kid.
"I'm sorry mother, I forgot to answer. I'll be there tonight."
"Oh but I count on it. We have much to talk about." She warned. Draco had no idea what she wanted to talk about, but he knew it wouldn't be pleasant. His guts told him so. Her head was off the fireplace before he could even answer.
The evening promised to be painful.
When Lavender had gone back to work after a very talkative lunch where Hermione had met Lav-Lav again, all of that served by a bit too cheerful Rosmerta, Hermione had sent an owl to Minerva.
When she reached the gates of Hogwarts, the head-mistress was waiting for her, a warm and rare smile on her lips.
"Hermione, dear, do come in."
"Minerva! I'm glad it's been ages."
"Indeed."
Both women chatted their way in the familiar grounds of Hermione's old home. The rebuilt castle was as perfect and beautiful as it had always been. The black lake as unruffled as it usually was this time of year, Hagrid's hut as unsteady as years before, and the gigantic wooden doors as majestic as the first day Hermione had set eyes on them. She trailed a finger on the cream stones inside the entrance hall, it was reviving to come back there, crossing path with students that stopped in their tracks upon recognising her.
Hermione had a smile plastered on her face up until they reached the library. Then it became an irrepressible grin. Mrs Pince had acquired a few more wrinkles in the years Hermione hadn't seen her, and she was beyond pleased to be warmly greeted by her as well. Everyone knew that she wasn't the greeting type.
Minerva lead her to the restricted section, and after inviting her for tea later, left her to her research.
Hermione spent the afternoon in there, buried in books, until it was time for tea. Walking in Dumbledore's old office pinched her heart, but the sight of his sleeping portrait vanished any sadness. Once around tea, it was decided that Hermione could come everyday if she wished to, but at a precise time where Minerva would be free to open the gates for her. After detailing her project and taking advices from the skilled and wise witch, Hermione got surprised when Minerva warily said:
"I have something I wish to ask you to do Hermione."
"Oh, what is it?"
"If you agree of course, I would like you to give an exceptional lecture to the charms students. Seventh year. They might appreciate the advices to take their NEWTS."
"I don't have any NEWTS Minerva …"
"I know. You have beyond NEWTS abilities though Hermione. If you could prepare such a thing, and in the eventuality that you enjoy it, it could become something more regular. I know you quit from being an auror."
"I have, but I might take a brand new position within the Ministry again."
"I'm sure you have plans, but think about it."
"All right, I will."
Draco arrived at his mother's vacation villa five minutes early, ready to be lectured. A strong hand of dread had taken grip of his bowels as he'd realised that if his mother had somehow found out he was going on intervention when it was strictly confidential, she might have heard about his infatuation for a certain muggle-born witch that had been despised by the entirety of his family for years. Even though he had no intention to please anyone else but himself, and possibly one day the witch in question, his mother's reaction to the news still scared the shit out of him, again very much as when he'd been a child.
He made his way to the lounge where he was sure she'd be waiting for him, and found her sitting, a book in hands, a tea tray on the small table in front of her.
"Ah, Draco." He winced, no dear, really bad sign.
"What is it mother?" Oh. That was an unexpected bold move. Maybe a certain Gryffindor was influencing him a bit more that he'd realised. His mother cocked a perfect eyebrow in incredulity.
"I beg you pardon?"
"You wanted to talk."
"Right to the point, I see. Sit down." She motioned for him to take the couch opposite her, which he did right away.
"I wonder son, why you wouldn't tell me that you didn't take your old position back. I heard from Nancy that you're a full time auror now." Oh, so it was just that? No need to shit his pants then.
"Because I was very busy. It's a demanding job, and I'm taking a really difficult position I still have to train for."
"Oh. Explain." So he did. She didn't seem very happy with the news that he was going to remain an auror, but she didn't voice it. Instead, she took a very slow sip at her tea, examining him with piercing eyes, the way she was the only one to be able to. Then, as slowly as before, she settled the tea cup in its saucer, adjusted the handle with a perfectly manicured hand, and said:
"What exactly did you think I wanted to talk about dear?"
"I had no idea." Shit, too fast answer. Her head darted up instantly.
"Lie." He couldn't say anything, his voice lost. If he lied again, she'd see right through him. If he said the truth, it could very much be the last time he saw his mother. So he remained silent.
"I see. I have all my time son, and a little idea of what it was anyway." Draco chuckled challengingly, his mother was a Slytherin too after all. He was feeling rather bold that night, he risked loosing a limb though.
"Nice try mother."
They stayed like that, piercing eyes fixed on one another's, for what felt like hours. He'd loose at this game and his mother knew it very well. Still, he kept trying.
"Who is she son?" Shit. She smirked at his discomposing face. It had just been a guess! A fucking guess and he'd reacted unconsciously! Draco rubbed his face with both hands, berating himself for his own idiocy. He would have to say it. When nothing had happened with Hermione yet that deserved to be told.
"Nothing's happened."
"Yet. Her name."
"She's muggle-born." Her face blanched a fraction of a second before her blank mask reappeared. She was hiding her expression with brio. He still had a lot to learn from her. Of course he didn't need to say her name, his mother was very clever, she'd figure it out.
"I want to hear it from your mouth son." Her voice was deadly flat.
"Nothing's happened."
"Speak." This time her tone was menacing. Draco knew better than to try her.
"Hermione Granger." She didn't say anything. She didn't move except for drinking in her magically refilling cup of tea. For what seemed hours Draco watched her refrain showing emotions, but he knew his mother by heart, and he could tell the mental debate she was having with herself. It was eleven o'clock when she finally stood and, without a word, went away. If she hadn't said anything, it only meant that she didn't have a firm opinion on the matter just yet. It also meant that she had against and for arguments. Sighing Draco went to his teenage vacation bedroom, and fell asleep asking himself what he'd do if his mother refused to accept his choice.
Hermione went back to Grimmaud place that night with a lot to think about. A few more convincing arguments from Minerva's smart mouth and Hermione had accepted giving a single exceptional lecture to the seventh years. She'd be at Hogwarts for the next days, to prepare it. At least she would keep busy.
For the next three days, she didn't hear anything from the aurors. None of them, she didn't even see Lavender. Her golden blond sister had owled, writing that while the others were away she had to run the department and that she wouldn't be able to come around as she'd said she would. Hermione knew perfectly well how it was like, and settled on spending most of her time at Hogwarts, burying herself in books, in order to prepare her lecture.
It was the first time in years that something made her this nervous. Not even meeting with Draco could put her in such a state. They'd set a date with Minerva, and the lecture would be the next Monday. So, when came Wednesday night, she was nowhere near ready to stop working, and decided to wait for Draco in the lounge, at the small desk by the window.
Anticipation made her watch the clock way too often, especially after eleven o'clock, as the minutes started stretching. She yawned, she knew that interventions were never under a precise timing, and that he could very well be back in two days, but she still hoped he'd get back home – as he said - soon.
At midnight she couldn't concentrate enough to read and take notes at the same time, so she slowly made her way to the couch, a book in one hand, the other massaging her aching neck.
Draco, Blaise and Potter came back to Grimmaud in the middle of the night. All muddy from three days of camping in the bloody woods, under the Salazar forsaken rain. They'd caught a client on his way to the vendor's hiding, followed him, and had been able to spot it. The wards had been the less complex ones Draco had ever encountered, but the old vendor a surprisingly fierce opponent for his advanced age. He was now in Azkaban, waiting for his trial. Of course they'd had to do the paper work before being released, and it had been a tremendous pain in the arse, especially when the weasel had spent his time bitching about Hermione not being there to do it for him. Draco would have normally snapped at him, but since the visit to his mother, his head was so full on unanswered questions that he had kept his mouth shut.
Now, they'd made their way to the kitchen, and Potter had poured three glasses of firewhiskey, his eyes red from exhaustion behind his round glasses. They kept silent while drinking it, obviously too drenched to even talk. Potter was the first to go to bed, Blaise followed a few minutes after, patting Draco's shoulder on his way out.
Draco stayed in the kitchen a bit longer, just the time to have another drink to silence his questioning mind. Then, he stood, stretched, and made his way up too.
He reached the first landing and gripped the banister to go one floor upper, when a wavering light caught his eye. There was definitely a fire in the lounge, he could see it under the door. Potter was too tired to stay up, Blaise would never stay up. It could only mean one thing.
Shit, had she waited for him this late? Whatever questions he was asking himself, he couldn't let her wait all night. He quietly made his way to the door, but heard nothing apart from the crackling of the fire. He cracked it open and saw nothing but the empty armchair. Frowning he made his way in.
A tiny ball of limbs was snuggled up on a corner of the couch, a hand grazing the floor, and a fallen book next to it on the carpet.
Her legs were crooked against her chest, and her hair was again all over her face.
How he'd asked himself if he could stay away from her was beyond his comprehension. She'd waited for him. Apparently late enough that she'd fallen asleep, uncovered, on the uncomfortable couch.
Whatever his mother thought, he wouldn't stay away from her. He took a few wary steps to the couch, and crouched before her. He grabbed the book she'd let fall, and put it on the coffee table, then, he swept her hair off her face.
She was fast asleep, her face devoid of any frown or expression, peaceful. Her cheeks were slightly pink tinted from the heat of the fire, her freckles a sight that twisted his guts. He couldn't wake her up now. But leaving her there, alone, to wake up alone too, was out of the question.
He shrugged, after all, he had nothing to loose. Well, maybe his mother, but she wouldn't make him happy. Hermione might. He sat at the other end of the couch, extended his legs to the coffee table, and only hesitated a few seconds before gently grabbing her bare feet in his hands, and straightening her legs to his lap. Even her feet were tiny. They fitted in his hands.
Hermione woke up, her neck in an uncomfortable position. She realised before opening her eyes that she was still on the couch. Draco hadn't come home. Disappointed, she shuffled. Her eyes snapped open abruptly, she couldn't move her feet. Draco was there. His head resting on the back of the couch, his mouth slightly open, and his hands firmly gripping her feet in his sleep. He was still in his auror's robes, and judging by the state of them, and of his shoes, the entire room would need a good scrougifying once he woke up. His hair was in total disarray, falling on his face and wavering under his breath. A good start of a beard shadowed his slack jaw. He was quite the manly sight.
Laying like that he looked a good six foot two. She knew for a fact that he wasn't this tall, she'd been in his arms and with her tiny five foot three, she reached his collar bone. Still.
She realised she'd kept staring, or more drooling, for a while when the clock dinged. Eight o'clock. Damn, she'd be late at Hogwarts.
Reluctantly, and too slowly to be on time, she extracted her feet from his grip. He stirred as she stood from the couch. His sleepy face and not fully open eyes sought for her and she froze, smiling. He had to be still asleep for he extended his arms to her, and when his left hand reached her wrist he tugged at it. She took a step closer but didn't oblige on his lap where he apparently wanted her to sit.
"I have to go Draco." She murmured. He shook his head, yawning.
"Stay." He said, tugging at her wrist again, and scratching his head with his other hand. She really wanted to stay. However, she'd never missed an obligation, and it was now too late to owl Minerva to cancel. She grimaced and decided to make up for having to leave.
"I can't." She said, following his hand, and bending over his lap. She pressed a kiss on his cheek, not a quick peck as few days prior, a real firm kiss that definitely woke him up. "I'll see you tonight."
He let go of her wrist to touch his cheek, his gaze wide and staring in front of him.
"Yes." He murmured as she passed him and went to the desk to fetch her wand.
She was at the door when he found his voice back.
"Hermione?"
"Yes?"
"I … Is it all right if I make sure it's just the two of us?" He was watching his hands, his face reddening quickly. She turned her back to him, and smiled. Only once the door was open, she said:
"You better." and went upstairs to get ready.
Draco woke up for the second time, not feeling as comfortable as the first, even though he was in his bed now. As he stretched he still felt like cheering. Or more like jumping on the bed like a four year old. Potter was spending the day at Andromeda's and would only be back to Grimmaud on Friday night, so Draco only had to get rid of Blaise. If he explained, the lad would surely oblige. It was around midday when he finally decided to go down to the kitchen. Blaise was already there, though he looked right out of bed too. He still had mud in one of his eyebrows. Draco had at least taken the time to take a shower before letting himself fall in his bed. Wrinkling his nose as he passed him, he fetched himself some breakfast, saying:
"You smell like shit."
"At least I don't look like shit."
"Actually you have some on your face."
"Err …"
They took breakfast exchanging similar pleasantries, and Draco finally decided on telling Blaise:
"I slept on the couch with Hermione."
"Woohoo!"
"Not what you think. She'd waited for me."
"Woohoo!"
"Shut up. Would you fuck off tonight?"
"And where would I go?"
"I don't know, lock yourself in your room if need be."
"If you bang her everywhere in this house I'll tell Potter."
"You're the most disgusting prat I've ever met. I have no intention of banging her as you prettily put it."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not a prat. I just want a moment with her."
"All right. I'll write to Blondie, maybe it's time I have a moment with her too."
"Woohoo."
"Oh yes."
"Prat." He got a smirk-grin in response.
They spent the laziest day Draco had ever spent, in the lounge, swapping between reading and napping. When five o'clock dinged Draco was starting to loose patience. Where was she anyway? He grabbed his parchment and wrote:
- When will you be home?
- Around six Mr Patience Malfoy.
- Where are you Ms Beaver Granger?
- Hogwarts, I'll explain tonight, you git.
It was so natural that he didn't even really notice the banter until she wrote the last word. He frowned for something else though, Hogwarts? But she'd found out how to pass on wards already. What could she be researching there? His questions were cut short as an owl tapped his beak on the window. Blaise shrugged and stood first to open it. The owl flew right to Draco's shoulder and lifted a paw for him to detach a letter. The bird had another tied to his other paw but when Draco tried to grab it too, the rapacious bit him.
"Fuck!" The atrocious animal flew to the window desk, and stayed there. Blaise, laughing, gave a look at the letter that wasn't for Draco.
"It's for Granger, Mungo's."
Draco felt his face blanch. He shakily opened his own letter.
Draco,
As I promised, the potion has worked. Seventh recipe, if you refer to the last letter I sent you. I haven't heard from Hermione the last time, so I write with a request. Please make sure she reads this letter attentively, and responds. I need her at my office tomorrow at ten o'clock. You are of course welcome to come too.
Her parents are still under shock and it would be preferable if she came with support. It will be overwhelming, and I might even keep her under observation for the night too. Just in case.
That being said, I can never thank you enough for your donation. As you may already know, it won't only help our dear Hermione's family reunite, it will also help countless others from the war recover from their injuries.
If you wish, I can send monthly reports on our advancement, to keep you updated. I doubt your interest goes this far though, so I will wait for your response.
Have you told Hermione yet? I heard from Neville that you had changed your mind, and I am glad.
Regards,
Luna Lovegood,
Mediwitch at Saint Mungo's Hospital for magical maladies and injuries.
"Fuck." Draco was very much under shock himself. Blaise snatched the letter from his hands and read it. Then he started talking but Draco didn't understand a word he said. His mind was blank.
"I need a drink." They went down to the kitchen, and the owl followed. It perched atop one of the cupboards, while Blaise poured them a drink, saying:
"I guess you won't have your moment tonight."
"She's … Mate she's going to have her parents back. Tomorrow."
"Thanks to you."
"She doesn't need to know that. I'm just afraid she's going to snap …"
"She will and I stay."
"Yes you do. Call Brown too, she said she'd come with her." Blaise nodded and bustled around the fireplace to do as told. A few minutes later he was back on his feet:
"She'll come after work. She said to take her wand anyway."
Draco rubbed his face with both hands. He couldn't warn her without her knowing he was the donator. Plus, the owl was waiting for her, and would jump on her right away. He'd be there, it was all he could do.