Chapter Thirteen: Twins
"The Devil Within" -Digital Daggers
After they had eaten, Draco had been subjected to a round of singing before he was presented with a large green cake. Despite Hermione's protests as she tried to keep her promise, Molly was having none of it. "It's not an official birthday party if we don't sing Happy Birthday, Hermione, dear," she had said. Hermione had shot an apologetic look at Draco who had simply shrugged, not minding the attention so much now that he knew how much it bothered Weasley.
Ron's face had been in a permanently red state ever since he'd gotten home from the Ministry. Draco couldn't help but snigger at the way it clashed with his red hair.
After the cake, Molly had suggested opening his gifts, but Draco had drawn the line there. He had thanked them for their kindness, his manners impecable, but declined unwrapping them in front of everyone.
After that, everyone had dispersed. Harry and Ginny sat in the living room floor, playing a game of wizard's chess while George, Dean, Longbottom and the Weasel watched on, the latters gaze flickering away to glare at Malfoy every few moments. Blaise and Pansy were sitting on one end of the couch, talking quietly. Mrs. and Mr. Weasley were having coffee in the kitchen with Andromeda, the prefect git, Bill and Fleur. Lovegood and Theo were no where in sight.
Teddy had fallen asleep and was tucked away in Ginny's bed upstairs. Draco had taken the armchair, avoiding the empty seat on the couch beside Hermione. The temptation to torture Weasley farther was massive, but he wasn't going to torture himself as well. He had been far too exposed to her today already. He almost missed holding her hostage for the simple fact that he could walk away, knowing that she couldn't follow, even if she wanted to. That rule didn't apply here. That fact became even more blatantly obvious when she stood from her place on the couch, crossed over to where he sat in the armchair and perched on the arm.
She turned towards him, stuffing her bare feet underneath his leg. He raised an eye brow at her questioningly, simultaneously amused and annoyed. "My feet are cold," she said simply.
"Ever heard of socks, Granger?" Draco drawled, turning his attention back to the game of Wizarding Chess being played. Ron was shooting daggers at him again. Great.
"I didn't come over to talk about my feet," Hermione said, nudging him so that he was forced to look at her again.
"What do you want?" His voice came out harsher than he had meant for it to, and she bit her lip. He squeezed his eyes shut against the feelings that brought about within him. This was neither the time nor the place to grow an accidental erection.
"I think I'm going to go find my parents. Soon. Reverse their memories." Hermione said. That was enough of a mood killer for Draco.
"Well, that's... yeah. How soon?"
She shrugged. "This weekend, maybe?"
Draco nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I hope you and the terrible two-some have a good time in the land down under."
Hermione gave a soft chuckle, her gaze drifting over to her friends as she played absentmindedly with the green pendant around her neck. "They're not going."
Draco frowned, processing her words and not liking the conclusion he was drawing. "Who's going with you then? You're not going by yourself."
Hermione's brows pursed together. "I had planned on it. I am an adult, after all. I'm pretty sure I can handle it."
Draco scowled. "No."
"No?" Hermione scoffed in disbelief.
"No. That's foolishly dangerous."
"I'm going, Draco." Hermione asserted, narrowing her eyes at him.
"Not alone you aren't." Draco snapped.
Hermione looked at him incredulously. "What do you propose I do, then? Harry and Ron have Auror training. I suppose I could ask Kingsley for an Auror, but I don't want to be stuck with that gormless Barrett. He really is a strange character. You should have seen the way he acted." She shivered as chills ran up her spine.
"I'll go with you." Draco said, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he realised what he was saying.
Hermione's eyes widened fractionally, a smile playing at her plump, pink lips. "I don't think you're allowed out of the country, Draco. Probation, remember?"
Draco frowned. He had an easy out. It could be as if he had never spoken. But damn him, he couldn't back out now that he had already offered. "I'll get permission from Kingsley. He's a tosser, but he'll understand. Special circumstances and all that."
Hermione chewed her lip thoughtfully, running the pendant back and forth along its silver chain. The soft 'whish, whish, whish," of the metal on metal was oddly comforting, and he could see why she liked to do it.
"Where'd you get that? I never noticed it on you at the manor." Draco said, becoming suspect as her face flushed.
"Er, well, you did see it on me, but it didn't exactly look like this." Hermione said, unclasping the chain and holding it out to him. "Smell it."
"Have you gone mad?" He demanded, shoving the necklace back toward her.
"Just sniff it," Hermione said, rolling her eyes skyward.
Draco paused for a few moments, deliberating, before sniffing at it tentatively. It smelled of broom polish and his cologne. He looked up at Hermione in surprise. "Is this...?"
"Your jersey? Yes. I found it rather comforting, but I thought it would have looked a bit odd had I taken to wearing your shirt every day. This way I could keep it with me without anyone knowing the wiser."
Draco frowned, handing the necklace back over to her. This was becoming all too much to handle. Hermione Granger was comforted by something of his. It made him feel wrong. "Being in captivity really fucked your head up, didn't it?"
Her eyes widened, taken aback by his words. "How do you mean?"
"You fucking hate me, Granger. Or you did, before. And now, you're wearing my Quidditch jersey around your neck for comfort. Why do find comfort in a stupid old shirt?" Draco growled out.
"Because it's yours," she whispered, her brown eyes boring into his. "And I don't hate you. I- I never have, honestly. I didn't much like you. I thought you were an arrogant, xenophobic, entitled prat, but hate was never a word I would have used for my feelings toward you."
"What changed then? I assure you, I'm still the same arrogant arsehole that I've always been, Granger, he's just been deprived of opportunities to present himself lately."
"I don't believe that-"
"I don't care what you believe!"
Draco looked around, finding several pairs of eyes hovering on them. Weasley had his hand on his wand, waiting to hex him at the first opportunity that presented itself. Draco sighed, lowering his voice. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a good person before you'll fucking believe me?"
Hermione didn't say anything, fixing her eyes on him and jutting her chin out stubbornly.
He rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back to the chessboard just in time to see Ginny's knight smash one of Harry's rooks, sending chunks of marble flying.
"I'll be going to Australia by myself." Hermione said quietly.
Draco kept his eyes on the chessboard as he glared. "Didn't we just discuss this?" He snapped.
"Yes, we did. But I've decided." She said firmly.
"Damn it all, Hermione, it's too dangerous for you to go skipping off on your own right now!"
"That shouldn't matter to you if you're not a good person. Some one who wasn't innately good wouldn't give a rat's arse if I went alone, dangerous or not." He scowled, realising her ploy. "So, which is it, Draco? Are you worried about me going alone, or are you a bad person? Because you can't be both."
"Bad people can still worry about their friends." Draco said after a moment, trying to to give her the satisfaction of relenting.
She rolled her eyes. "So, you admit that we're friends?"
"Will it shut you up?"
She suppressed a smile, "For now."
"Fine. We're friends."
She sighed, contentedly, leaning against the back of the chair beside him.
"For someone worried about me taunting the Weasel, you seem to do a much better job of it than I do," he said, meeting the murderous glare of the redhead, eyeing their close proximity with narrowed eyes.
"Hm?" Hermione asked, her eyes immediately flickering to Ron who met her eyes evenly before turning away. "Oh! Oh. Right..." She said, standing quickly.
Draco was slightly disappointed, but he quickly told himself he was being irrational. She was not his. Whatever feelings he was harboring towards her were nothing more than general concern for a fellow human being.
She held something out to him and his eyes flicked up, catching on the glittering green pendant. "What?"
"Don't you want it back?" Hermione asked him quietly.
"You keep it. It's not like I'll be playing Quidditch any time soon. I doubt they let felons try out for House teams."
Hermione frowned, but quickly fastened the chain back around her neck. "I have to say, I'm a bit relieved."
"Why?" Draco asked, wondering what good the necklace served her.
"It's... something to hang onto. When the dreams wake me."
He knew by dreams, that she meant the night terrors that plagued her. "They haven't stopped?"
"No."
"I thought maybe... when you weren't living in constant fear of torture, they would go away." Draco said, bitter sarcasm in his tone.
"I had hoped. But they haven't."
He was silent, watching the chess game in order to avoid her eyes.
"I almost wish you would hold me hostage, again." She murmured.
Draco's head whipped around incredulous. "What are you on about?"
"I only meant, that it was easier..."
"Being held hostage was easier than being here, free, with your friends?" He hissed, incredulous.
"Well, no... But you being there, to talk me down. To know that it wasn't real. That bit was easier." She whispered back.
"It's hard to be friends with you when you keep talking nonsense like that. Merlin, you are... something." Draco smirked, doing his best to mask his own feelings behind a snide comment that he couldn't even give his full effort.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything-"
"-No, you shouldn't." Draco snapped.
Hermione heaved a great sigh and returned to her place on the couch. Theo and Lovegood entered, their hands laced together. Draco glared at them, envying how easy they had it. Theo flopped down onto the couch between Hermione and Pansy, and Lovegood sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning back against his legs.
"Granger, this party was an excellent idea." Theo grinned, tugging a lock of Luna's hair. She swatted his hand away half heartedly.
Hermione gave a tight smile, over the top of the book she was reading, but remained silent. Where did she even get a book? It's like she pulls them out of thin air, Draco grumbled internally.
"What's with you?" Theo asked, "Cat got your tongue?"
"Nothing to say," Hermione mumbled, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.
"What'd you do, mate?" Theo asked quietly, turning to smirk at Draco, who glared at him silently in answer.
"Let's go you all," Andromeda called from the kitchen, a still sleeping Teddy rested against her chest, his head of purple hair tucked beneath her chin.
Draco stood, stretching. The black sleeve of his his t-shirt slid up, revealing part of his Morsmordre mark. He hastily jerked it back down, thankful that no one seemed to have noticed. No one save Hermione, at least. Her intelligent eyes missed nothing.
"I had better be going, too," Luna mused, rising from the floor. "Father will be worried."
Hermione stood to hug her goodbye, and they were soon joined by Ginny and Harry. Dean and Neville announced that they were going to head home too. Theo hovered beside Lovegood, but Draco slipped past their grouping, hoping to get out wihtout notice. Pansy and Blaise had already made their way outside. Draco had gotten almost to the door, when warm arms wrapped around him, tugging him into a hug.
"Draco, dear, I do hope you've enjoyed yourself. You deserved a little something special after everything you've been through." Molly said, and Draco thought he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. She smelled of cookies and lavender, a very homey smell. It was delightful, not that Draco would ever mention it to anyone.
"Erm, thank you, Mrs. Weasley." He muttered, not wanting to be rude. She released him and forced a few small cubes into his hand.
"Your presents," she said with a wink. She shuffled away, and before he had a chance to turn for the door, Potter stood before him.
"For fucks sake," Draco muttered, rolling his eyes.
Harry smirked, holding his hands up. "I come in peace."
"I want to go home, Potter, get on with it."
It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "Why Hermione bothers with you, I'll never know. Any way, I just wanted to say, you know, happy birthday. And again, thanks."
"Stop that" Draco growled, and Harry's smile fell.
"What the hell is your problem?" Harry snapped back.
"I've almost gotten used to Granger being nice to me. Almost. But one of you liking me is my limit. It's too fucking weird having you acting all chummy."
Harry grinned. "Yeah, well. You have no idea how difficult it's been to bite back all the insults that have popped into my head since you've been released. I was only trying to be the bigger person."
Draco smirked. "Insults such as?"
"Well, for starters, I've never seen a ferret with a ponytail." Harry sniggered, and Draco glared.
"Unfortunately, they don't have a proper barber in wizard prison. You should write a letter. I'm sure the fucking chosen one could pull any string he wanted."
Harry chuckled. Dean and Neville walked up, the former extending his hand for Draco to shake. He did, after only a moments hesitation. "Happy... Nevermind." He changed his tact quickly, after catching sight of Draco's thunderous expression.
"See ya round, Malfoy." Neville said, offering his hand as well. "And thanks again."
"Yeah. Sure, Longbottom."
Draco slipped out the door before any one else had a chance to bombard him with their sentiments. He had only gotten as far as the garden gate when he heard her calling to him, and try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to ignore her.
He huffed a sigh, stopping to lean against the post, not bothering to turn around. He knew she was coming.
"Draco," she said, coming around to face him, her brown eyes hard as she stared him down, fists pressed against her hips.
"Granger," he said coolly, amused at the obvious annoyance her eyes held.
"Were you just going to leave? Without saying anything to me?" She asked, a twinge of hurt leeching into her words.
He shrugged. "What are you, my keeper now?"
She frowned. "It's customary to tell your friends good-bye, I should think."
"Right. I almost forgot we were friends." He teased, smirking at her.
She smiled, giving him a half hearted shove.
"Well, good-bye then, Granger." Draco said, arching an eyebrow.
"Good-bye, Draco." She stepped forward hesitantly, deliberating, before quickly wrapping her arms around him. He didn't even have time to react before she was pulling away again. It left him wanting and he hated it. What was she doing to him?
"You would think a friend would receive a proper hug," he murmured, in spite of the voice in his head screaming at him that he was treading dangerous waters.
Her eyes widened minutely and she bit her lip. Fuck. He snatched her wrist and pulled her flush against him, wrapping her in a tight hug and burying his face in her brown curls, as her arms tightened around his waist. Merlin, she smelled intoxicating. He breathed her in like a vapor, letting her fill his mind. He was having trouble making his arms cooperate, though his brain was demanding that he let her go. Theo made his decision for him.
"Granger and Malfoy sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-"
Draco groaned, releasing her immediately. He could tell that she was flushed, even in the dim lighting of the moon.
"See you around, Granger." He smirked, reaching up to brush a stray curl out of her face, before pushing around her and continuing up the hill to the apparition point.
He was one of the first ones back to the house, second only to Andromeda. The others arrived soon after. They all were saying their good-byes to Draco when Andromeda walked back into the kitchen from putting Teddy to bed.
"You're all welcome to stay here. I don't mind a bit, as a matter of fact, I'd rather enjoy the company." Andromeda said, running water into the kettle to put on a pot of tea.
"Hell yeah," Theo fist pumped the air. "Roomies," he said, grinning at Draco who gave a half hearted grimace. He knew his friends really had no where to go. They had houses, sure, but no family now. They were alone, with only each other. Of course, Draco still had his parents, but they were as good as gone to him now. His father had probably blasted him from the family tree as soon as he'd walked (er, ran) out of that manor.
"I'll show you to your rooms," she said, leading the way up the stairs.
Once Draco was alone in his room, he relaxed a bit. Being around people, no matter who they were, always put him on edge. Except for maybe Granger. He never really thought about being around her, he just was.
He stripped down to his boxers, intending to climb into bed, stopping at the sound of something rattling as his pants hit the floor. He picked them up, fishing in the pocket until he pulled out the three small boxes. He flicked his wand, returning them to their original sizes and then paused, staring at them for a few moments before tearing into the first one. He extracted some kind of helmet type device with weird fruits glued across its surface. His face screwed up at the strange smell emanating from it. He quickly stuffed it back into the box and slammed the top, making a mental note to ask Looney just what the hell that was supposed to be for.
He opened the next box, expecting something equally as weird. He was pleasantly suprised as he pulled out a box of home-made sweets and a dark green knitted sweater with a large D on the front. This had to be from Mrs. Weasley. He smiled, piling the sweets back in on top of the sweater and setting the box aside.
The next box was significantly smaller than the others, and he could only think of one other person that this last present could be from. He pulled the ribbon, letting it unravel and carefully removed the wrapping paper. He frowned, pulling out a tiny, leather bound notebook. Of course she would give him a bloody book. He barked out a chuckle as he tossed the box aside and flipped it open to the front page. Written in an looping scrawl was: Happy Birthday! I wasn't sure what to get you, but I've had these for several months now and I thought maybe you'd like one. They are twin journals. Anything that is written in mine will present itself in yours, and vice versa. I don't know if you'll want to talk to me anymore, now that you're free, but if you want to, you have the option. I'm being awkward, aren't I? Oh, well. Any way, Happy Birthday, Draco. I hope it was everything you could hope for. Hermione.
He sat staring at her writing for several minutes. He licked his lips, grabbed his wand up from the bedside table and muttured, "Accio quill." A drawer on the dresser shot open and a quill flew out. He repeated the spell for ink and quickly dipped his quill into the bottle, swirling it thoughtfully before scribbling a reply beneath her words. It was simple, but it was all he had.
Thank you. It was definitely a birthday to remember. Even if it's not my birthday.
Hermione was still thinking about his warm breath blowing through her hair the following afternoon. She had been helping Mrs. Weasley and Ginny out around the house all day, leaving plenty of time for her thoughts to wander. They were disconcerting to say the least. She could no longer deny it to herself. She thought she might have feelings for Draco Malfoy. Actually, there was no 'might', she was pretty sure she did have feelings for him. She had been trying to avoid the truth, but it had become increasingly obvious the previous night. Her heart had done that embarrassing thing where it beat unnaturally fast and loud anytime he glanced her way.
Her thoughts had strayed to his silver eyes for the millionth time that day and she didn't notice Ginny approaching as she stood folding laundry. She jumped about a foot in the air, slapping her hand across her chest. "Ginny, you frightened me."
The other girl arched an eyebrow confused. "I said your name three times. Are you okay, Hermione?"
Hermione nodded furiously. "Yes, yes. I'm fine. What is it, Gin?"
Ginny held a small envelope in her hand. "Apparently, Kingsley is throwing some sort of soire at the Ministry at the end of next month. It's a masquerade type thing." She handed a piece of parchment over to Hermione who examined it closely, with critical eyes. She hardly felt that it was an appropriate time to host an event like this. The war was barely won. "Rebuilding Together," she read aloud, "Celebrating our future while remembering our past."
Ginny nodded. "Mum says there's to be a memorium of some sort for those who lost their lives in the war," Ginny eyes began tearing up.
Hermione nodded, admiring the idea of that. Perhaps she was just upset that it was made to look like a party. She folded the last set of robes and flicked her wand, sending the piles of clothes flying off to the appropriate bedrooms.
"When are you going?" Ginny asked, misinterpreting where Hermione's thoughts kept straying.
"Oh, um, I'll probably leave tomorrow morning." She said, chewing her bottom lip. Draco was probably going to be angry, but he would get over it. She would be fine. She was just going to find her parents, reverse the spell and bring them home. They'd be back in time for brunch on Sunday.
"And you're still set on going alone?" Ginny asked, her eyes studying her friends face carefully.
"I don't think I have much of a choice, Gin. And besides, it's kind of personal. I think it will probably be easier to go it alone."
Ginny nodded thoughtfully. "Have you told Kingsley your plan?"
Hermione shook her head. "I don't think it concerns him..."
Ginny arched an eyebrow but remained silent.
Hermione excused herself, heading upstairs to Ginny's room. She wanted to check the journal. She hadn't bothered the night before, figuring that he would probably prolong opening it for as long as possible. Her curiosity could take no more, however. She pulled it out from the bag of belongings she had collected from her parents house. She sighed and flipped it open, suprised to find words written there beneath her own.
She grinned, grabbing a self inking quill off of the dresser.
You're most welcome. She wrote, pausing as she chewed on the end of the quill. She might as well tell him now, lessen the blow a bit. I'll write you tomorrow, once I've restored my parents memories.
She sat the book down and stared at the page for several long minutes, before giving up. She hadn't expected an instant reply, but she was nervous to deal with his temper when he finally did answer. She tucked the small book back into her bag and returned downstairs to help start supper. The boys would be home from the Ministry and the joke shop soon.
Draco seethed silently as he stepped out of the fireplace into the Atrium. His footsteps reverberated off of the walls as he stomped up to the wand check desk. "What business do you have here today, Mister Malfoy?" The elder witch asked him over the rim of her large spectacles.
"I'm here to see Kings- Er, the Minister. It's urgent." He added, hoping to hurry her along. He was in no mood to wait on the old biddy.
"Does he know that you're coming?" She asked.
"Yes," Draco lied smoothly. "He's expecting me."
She looked at him suspiciously but handed him his wand back along with a visitors pin.
He rushed off, throwing a thank you over his shoulder as he went. He reached the lift swiftly and was rewarded by not having to wait, though his relief was quickly dashed as the doors opened up.
"Malfoy?"
"Potter."
"What the bloody hell are you doing here?"
"That's none of your business, Weasel. If you'll excuse me, I have urgent business with the Minister."
They stepped out, Harry pushing Ron along to get him to move at all, and Draco stepped in, slamming his hand into the button. Ron opened his mouth but the doors clanged back shut and the lift ascended.
Draco stepped out into the corridor, his robes flowing behind him. He stopped in front of Kingsley's office and pounded on the door.
It opened quickly and Kingsley didn't look a bit suprised to see him. "Margery called up to make sure that I was aware you were here. Apparently we have an urgent meeting," he lifted an eyebrow and stepped aside to let Draco pass. "What's this about, Malfoy?"
Draco stopped in front of his desk, whirling around to face him. "Are you aware that Granger is intending to leave the country to restore her parents memories tomorrow? Alone?"
Kingsley visibly relaxed and Draco realised he had probably been anticipating news of the other Death Eaters. As if they would contact him after what he did, Draco internally scoffed. Kingsley frowned slightly as he studied him. "I wasn't aware of that, no. But I don't know what you want me to do. She refused to accept an Auror-"
"I'm here to ask your permission to accompany her. Sir." He tacked on as an after thought.
Kingsley stroked his chin for several long moments before he sighed. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt anything for you to go along. I'd feel a bit better, knowing that she had someone at least."
"Thank you, sir." Draco said, shocked that it had been that easy.
"There and back, no funny business. One toe out of line, Mister Malfoy, and not even Granger and her friends could get you off the hook, understand?"
"Perfectly," Draco smirked.
Hermione lay on her cot in Ginny's room, staring at the ceiling. She had escaped early to bed, yet sleep had evaded her. Ron had been in a foul mood when he arrived home from the Ministry and Harry had seemed tense, eyeing Ron cautiously every few minutes. Hermione knew that there was something they weren't sharing with her and normally it would have bothered her. But not now. Not when her overworked brain was already tied up in its own dilemmas.
She picked the journal up again, as she had 13 times in the last hour, she had counted. She expected to once again find a blank spot under her answer, but was suprised to find his neat scrawl where there had once been only blank space.
What time are you leaving for Australia?
She stared at the question for a moment, suspicious immediately. It was such a simple question and she normally would have paid it no mind, but he had been so damningly against her going alone only yesterday. She had expected an angry outburst. She frowned. Maybe he figured she had found someone else to go with her. Ginny, perhaps. Or Dean. Yes, that was probably it.
6 am. Wish me luck.
She hadn't expected a reply, but the page immediately began to reveal words as his quill scratched across the page of its match. Hermione was reminded of the paper cups and strings she and her friends used to use when they were children, thinking how cool they were. This was like the adult version, with a bit of magic thrown in and she had to admit, it was awesome. Like walkie-talkies. She had debated giving the match to Harry or Ron, but it seemed rude to give to one and not the other. Ginny had crossed her mind, but she had quickly dashed that idea. She saw Ginny all the time, and they had owls if they wanted to communicate over long distance. Yesterday, when Molly had decided on the party, the idea had struck her. She didn't hesitate, wrapping one of the journals pristinely in silver and green wrapping with a frilly bow.
The ink was drying and the words revealed themselves fully.
Luck is a matter of preparation meeting opportunity. Cause and Effect, Granger.
She chuckled, pulling her quill across the page.
Felix Felicis says otherwise. I wish I had some. I need it.
...
You make your own luck, Granger. A potion can only get you so far.
She rolled her eyes, then hastily drew a smiley face sticking it's tongue out, tapping it with her wand so that it danced across the page.
Can't you just say, 'Good luck,' like a normal person?
Good luck and Goodnight. Sleep well.
Goodnight, Draco...
Hermione tucked the journal back into her bag, a smile playing at her lips and she drifted off to sleep almost instantly.