A Hundred Storms
Chapter Thirty-Three: What's Past is Past
I've been spending the last 8 months
Thinking all love ever does
Is break and burn and end
But on a Wednesday in a cafe
I watched it begin again
- Begin again, by Taylor Swift
Hermione's eyes kept returning to the lively-looking butterflies that flittered across the front of the tapestry. When Teddy and the three men entered Hermione had been curious to see if the tapestry would change or if she would be able to see them. While Draco never closed the entrance behind them, allowing the scene to remain animated, the four adventurers were nonetheless hidden from Hermione's view.
That is, until she saw the bright mop of red hair come tumbling out of the ruffled tapestry. Close on Ron's heels was Harry, wrangling a red-faced and terribly distraught Teddy. Hermione looked quickly at Harry's fairly composed expression before noticing the more frazzled look upon Draco's face as the blonde emerged.
Harry read Hermione's face and gave her a reassuring grin. "Didn't want to leave," he said by way of explanation about the tearful toddler in his arms. "Pitched quite a fit actually, I think he might have scared Malfoy."
"He did not scare me, Potter," Draco said tartly. "I was simply, ah, concerned."
"Concerned?" Hermione arched an eyebrow.
"Of course," Draco said throwing up his hands helplessly. "When I suggested we go back and see how you were getting along, suddenly, this!" Draco waved both hands at Teddy, who was positively glaring at his older cousin.
Hermione pursed her lips to refrain from smiling and walked over to Teddy, who was still in Harry's arms and clinging tightly to his godfather's neck.
"Teddy, didn't you want to come back and see me?" Hermione asked him earnestly. "I wanted to hear all about your adventure and couldn't wait until you got back!"
Teddy sniffled a couple times and slowly untangled his arms from around Harry's neck and reached out to Hermione.
"Fwutterbees Aunt Nynee," Teddy said, still somewhat distraught.
Hermione smiled at the child in her arms. While she hated any variation of her name, hearing Teddy's attempts always melted her heart. It was a huge breakthrough the day they finally managed to help him sound it out, only a few months prior.
"What color were they, Teddy?" Hermione encouraged him.
Teddy shook his head. He could pick out colors, but only with help. He hadn't yet mastered recalling them from memory.
"Did you see blue butterflies?" Hermione suggested? "Purple?"
"Bwew!" Teddy said happily. "Bwew an pwurpel!"
Hermione laughed and hugged him tight, Teddy seemed to have forgotten about his tears and was now entertaining them with his own toddler language of made up words to describe the wonders he encountered in the beautiful tapestry.
"Why don't we tell your grandmother all about it?" Harry said in a last ditch effort to refocus the abundance of energy Teddy had built up in the excitement. Hermione noticed Harry catch Ron's eye and the two men led Teddy over to where Andromeda was standing with an elderly-looking witch.
Hermione watched them walk off before turning back to Draco. "I'm glad he had a good time," she said as Teddy continued to babble on and out of earshot. "That was really nice of you."
Draco lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. "It's a fairly simple bit of magic," he said dismissively.
"Not to a child," Hermione argued. "Look," Hermione pointed to where Teddy was now surrounded by his grandmother, Narcissa, the elderly witch, Ron, and Harry. He was obviously enjoying the attention and was using excited gestures to explain to Narcissa specifically all the wonders he had just encountered. Narcissa's face was truly lovely as it lit up with an indulgent smile.
"I have not seen mother smile like that in a long time," Draco said, perhaps not meaning to do so out loud.
"Teddy has that effect on people," Hermione commented. "Truly, it's a blessing he was so young when his parents died. He's known nothing of war, only all the love and affection we can possibly give him, especially Harry. I think Harry feels it's his own personal duty to see to it that Teddy never wants for anything."
A flash of something Hermione couldn't place crossed Draco's face, but in an instant it was gone. She thought for the sake of erring on the side of caution to change the subject.
"You haven't yet greeted Blaise or Pansy," Hermione commented in what she hoped what an offhanded way. She noticed the two were off by themselves in a corner, but Pansy kept glancing at Teddy with a mildly amused look on her face.
"I did before you arrived at the funeral," Draco replied, his eyes flicking over to his two Slytherin friends and back to Hermione. "Why? Did you want to gossip with Pansy?"
Hermione wrinkled her nose. "I've yet to have a conversation with her that hasn't ended in someone flinging a hex, but Blaise has been very decent in calling you on your snobbery, if I recall correctly."
Draco winced good-naturedly. "Ah yes, he did wound my pride just a bit that evening," Draco commented, referring to the common room discussion only two months ago that seemed to begin it all. "Although I would say he is perfectly excellent at breaking the ice, wouldn't you say?"
"I'm not sure ice is the best word," Hermione quipped as she felt her heart start to beat a little faster than it should. "Razor wire and Manticores, perhaps."
"I wasn't that bad," Draco argued.
"Of course you were," Hermione countered. "I would have chosen the Manticore in a heartbeat over sharing any more of my company with you."
"Ouch, Granger, that hurts," Draco said, testing the waters with a tease. "I hope I've redeemed myself."
"Keeping me from plummeting to my death was an excellent start," Hermione said with an easy smile, her pulse returning to normal. "I'd say that made us fairly even."
"I didn't know we were keeping score," Draco commented.
"Not officially," Hermione admitted. "But a little competition is always entertaining."
"Speaking of entertainment," Draco cleared his throat.
"Yes?" Hermione asked.
"Come away with me for a couple days," Draco asked quickly in a tone that was a mix between a plead and a demand. "Until things settle down."
"Come away where?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Malfoy, we have class!"
"We have a week of fluff work before the term ends for the holidays," Draco replied. "We won't be missing anything important."
"I'm not missing a whole week of class," Malfoy," Hermione said firmly. "I didn't go back to school just to skip the entire duration."
"A week isn't the entire duration, Granger," Draco argued with no little amount of exasperation. "Would it kill you to be a little reckless for once?"
Hermione glared up at him from beneath her eyelashes. "This conversation sounds familiar," Hermione reminded him in a dangerous voice. "Why do you insist on trying to push every one of my buttons?"
Instead of arguing, Draco's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly while the corners of his mouth tilted up. "Habit, mostly," he said easily.
Hermione deflated ever so slightly. "Has anyone ever told you you're quite an arse?"
Draco smirked. "Never to my face," he said.
"You're quite an arse."
Draco's smirk broke into something wider. "Does that mean you'll come with me?"
Hermione huffed. "I don't have any of my things for a sleepover, Draco."
"That's perfectly alright," he said. "We will need to stop at Hogwarts and alert McGonagall to my departure for a week. I'm still on probation, if you recall."
"I told you I'm not skipping a week of class!" Hermione exclaimed. "We can leave tonight and come back Monday."
"Wednesday," Draco glared back down at her.
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and held her ground. "Returning Tuesday is my final offer," she stated. "That's a nice three day weekend, two of which we should be spending in class. Take it or leave it."
Draco continued to stare down at her, looking for a crack in her demeanor or a weakness he could exploit. It really didn't surprise him that he couldn't find one.
"Alright," Draco finally conceded. "You win, we'll come back Tuesday."
"I'm still not sure how I won," Hermione grumbled. "Missing two days of class on purpose?"
"It's called compromise, Granger," Draco said with a wicked chuckle. "I'm not any more used to it than you appear to be."
Hermione felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under her. Did Draco Malfoy really just convince her to skip two days of class? On Purpose?
"Erm, Malfoy, where exactly is it we are going?"
"We have a house in France," Draco replied casually.
Hermione blew out a breath. "Of course you do."
Draco smirked widely. "Well then, now that that is settled, let's get out of here and on to more cheerful things."
"We can't just leave..." Hermione trailed off for a moment. "This is for your father."
"He's not going to know one way or another, is he?" Draco asked fairly.
"Still..." Hermione glanced around uneasily as though the others could hear what they were saying. "It's unseemly."
Draco sighed. "You seem to care more about this...event than I do."
"I do care," Hermione nodded her head slightly and stared up at him. "I care very much. This is your final goodbye to your father."
"My father made a conscious decision to leave this world," Draco said flatly. "Why do you think he deserves a proper goodbye?"
Hermione bit her lip but managed to keep her thoughts in order. Narcissa's confession was at the front of her mind, and while Hermione longed to share everything with Draco (much to her own surprise) she knew there would be no benefit to it. Narcissa made her decision. Lucius made his. Hermione then made hers.
"He doesn't," Hermione's tone then matched Draco's. "A strong man would not leave his son to face the difficulties you have ahead," Hermione then stopped and closed her eyes. She breathed in and out. Hermione remembered difficulties. Her busy mind jumped to the journey it took to take Harry from his Aunt and Uncle Dursley's to the safe house. She remembered Hedwig. She remembered George. She remembered the fear. She remembered the absolute terror.
"There's so much good you could do. You, you are strong. And because of that you need to take the time to bury your father properly, physically and metaphorically." Hermione paused for a moment and breathed heavily again. "I'm sorry. I know that I really have no business..."
Draco remained silent for a moment, turning over Hermione's words instead of lashing out as he was want to do. He didn't want to think about Lucius. He didn't want to think about Azkaban. He spent two months and seven days in Azkaban. Even without the Demetors, who were released from duty under the new Minister of Magic, Azkaban was a hollow place, a dead place. People who were sent to Azkaban were sent there because they did horrible things, unmentionable things. People were sent to Azkaban to die, not to rehabilitate. People died in Azkaban because they did things society could not forgive. People died in Azkaban and no one missed them. No one mourned them. No one cared. No one remembered.
Draco spent two months and seven days in Azkaban before Harry and Hermione's testimony set him free. When he was released he was angry. He was violent. His father remained in Azkaban and his mother could not reason with him. He lashed out physically because he could not lash out magically under his new probation terms. Many walls in Malfoy manor felt the brunt of Draco's rage. The ministry stopped him from using his wand but they could not stop him from using his fists. Draco had hated the ministry and in turn he had hated Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. He hated everyone who had it so easy after the war, everyone who had escaped unscathed. The students who had been his classmates had turned unto his jurors.
But then Draco remembered.
After the fog of rage lifted, Draco remembered the screams and the blood. He remembered the uncertainty and betrayal. Draco remembered the scar and the fear. He remembered the hex that could not hide Harry's trademark physical blemish. Draco remembered thinking someone truly had their wits about them before Harry Potter was taken. It didn't matter, though. Draco would always remember that small boy he met in Diagon Ally. He would always remember he told Harry Potter that Hogwarts shouldn't let the other sort in. He saw Hermione Granger with them and he knew. Draco knew Hermione hexed her best friend to try and save him. Draco knew she would die for Harry, would die for Ron. Draco knew with a word he could end Hermione Granger and he would not have to lift a finger. His aunt or his father or his mother or any other nameless Deatheater would have been happy to take care of her. Eliminating a friend of Harry Potter's would have been an accomplishment in itself. In a word Draco could have changed the whole outcome of the war. He could have very well stopped them all with a simple word.
Draco remembered when he was the juror, when he could have been the executioner. He remembered when he couldn't do it. Maybe that's what enraged him the most. Draco became a murderer because he didn't see any way around it. It was him or that Muggle man that happened to be at the wrong pub at the wrong time, It was him or his mom or his dad or his best friend Vince or Gregory or Pansy and he wasn't ready to say goodbye to them. Not over this nameless Muggle. So he did it. He killed him. He didn't bother finding out if the Muggle was a brother or a son or a father. He ended the Muggle's life and wiped his hands. The end for that nameless Muggle Draco didn't bother to learn anything about.
He didn't want Hermione to know, but a part of him longed to tell her everything. Would she still want to have anything to do with him when she knew the whole truth of his actions during the war?
"It's not that you do not have any business..." Draco trailed off with uncharacteristic uncertainty. "It's just that you don't know...can't possibly know.."
"Draco... years ago, I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices... please, let me help you..."
gonna kill me…"
Draco never found out who the boy was Dumbledore was referring to. He often thought about it, the unknown person that Draco reminded his Headmaster of. He wondered what ever happened to the boy who made all the wrong choices. Did he ever get one right?
Hermione wrapped her arm around Draco's as she did before. This time there was nothing amusing about it, nothing ceremonious. She wanted him to know she was there for him to lean on, she wanted to give him strength. Unlike a Horcrux, she wanted to willingly give him a piece of herself that she could not give Harry or Ron, perhaps a piece of herself she did not realize she had to give.
"I want to know," Hermione heard herself asking. "Draco, you've given me so many things over the last couple months. My parents. My sanity. There's so much I didn't know before but so much I assumed that is just as terrifying. I don't think we can continue this until I know everything. If you truly want to get away for a few days here is my compromise. I want to know. I need to know. If you're truly serious about me, about us... No more skeletons in the closet. I want to meet them."
Draco was staring at Hermione throughout her soliloquy. "Skeletons?" was all he could manage.
"Muggle turn of phrase," Hermione replied. "You're brushing the issue aside."
"If I give you what you ask for, you have to give me Wednesday," Draco said harshly. "And I mean it, you cannot leave until Wednesday no matter what I tell you. Swear on it."
Hermione continued to stare up at him and a brief and flittering thought crossed her mind. Not for the first time, she wished she were taller. She did not like staring up at Draco, but more often than not she felt obligated to stand her ground and her height made no difference. Just because she had to look up did not mean she could not make anyone crumble to the ground. Hermione kept that spell in her arsenal. Hermione would not physically bow down to anyone.
"You must promise to take me through what happened in the Drawing Room, then," Hermione heard herself saying. "I want to see it. I'll give you the entire week if you give me your story and what happened in the Drawing Room."
Draco pursed his lips together in a tight line. "I think you're too inquisitive for your own good, Granger," he said with a trace of exasperation. "Some things should just remain a memory."
"I can't move forward until I have all the answers," Hermione said stubbornly. "And I don't think you can move forward until you share your demons with someone."
"Alright," Draco agreed. "If you're sure, I'm not going to pass up a deal that gets me out of classes and away from all the ridiculous journalists for a week. Let's make our goodbyes and then I'll take you to the..to the room."
Hermione nodded and the two split up, Draco taking the time to say goodbye to Blaise and Pansy while Hermione bid farewell to her friends and Teddy, who was now asleep in Harry's arms, his little head on Harry's shoulder and his thumb loosely hanging out of his month. Hermione smiled and gently ran a hand over Teddy's unruly hair. In his sleep it was beginning to morph into a pale lavender and Hermione wondered if his hair was like a mood ring in his unconscious state. Narcissa and the older woman had moved on an it appeared Narcissa was making the rounds to the other guests.
"Ready to get out of here?" Hermione asked Harry and Ron.
"We were just discussing that," Harry replied. "Do you want to get dinner?"
"Actually," Hermione looked around the room for eavesdroppers. "We're going away for the week. It would be nice to get away from the gossip and journalists for a little bit."
"You're missing class?" Ron asked incredulously. "Willingly? Hermione the only time you miss class is when you're petrified or on a mission to save the world. You don't skip class for a vacation."
"It's not a vacation," Hermione defended herself. "It's just...quiet time. It's going to be a media circus for awhile and I'd like to avoid the fallout."
"Understandable," Harry cut Ron off before the redhead could argue. "Where are you going?"
Hermione blushed a little. "France. Apparently Malfoy has a house there."
"Of course he does," Ron said bitterly. "Well, Hermione, have fun. Don't get yourself killed."
"Ron..." Harry looked at his friend.
"I mean it. Don't let your guard down," Ron continued on. "You're too trusting, Hermione."
"I think if he really wanted to kill me he could have by now," Hermione pointed out. "Just relax. It's a week out of England. It will be lovely."
"Have a good time, Hermione." Harry said with genuine sincerity. "But Ron is right, just...keep an eye out. You know we have not caught all Voldemort's followers. There's still a lot of people out there who would love to get their hands on you."
"I know," Hermione smiled at her friends. "Constant vigilance."
Hermione hugged Harry and then Ron, she gave Teddy a kiss on top of his sleepy head and the three exited the way they had come. Hermione watched their retreating backs with a bittersweet feeling gnawing lightly at her stomach.
Draco came up behind her and whispered in her ear, enjoying it immensely when she jumped at the breath on her neck. "Ready?"
Hermione whirled around and glared at him. "Arse."
Draco gave her a halfhearted smile. "Drawing Room, then? There's nothing I can do to talk you out of it?"
Hermione swallowed hard but nodded. "Then off to France. I hope your house there has wine, I have a feeling we're going to need it."
Draco felt comforted that Hermione didn't plan on bolting after the tour but he wouldn't trust his emotions until he was there with him, preferably in his arms and on his lips.
"What, no whiskey?" Draco managed to tease.
"When in France, Malfoy," Hermione admonished lightly. "When in France."
(A/N) I'm sorry. I've had this chapter written and completed for a few days but I just could not release it. It sort of kept getting bigger and bigger but I think enough happened that this is a good place to stop. Next couple chapters should be fun, I'm excited to really get back into their dialogue without any interruptions (except snogging, of course, and perhaps a little more? How far should I stretch the M rating?) Let me know what you think so far! I'm always looking for suggestions :) Until next time! xoxo