Author's Note: It is time for some Draco POV! Who's excited? Sorry this took so long, I had a bit of writer's block, even though I have it all outlined, but I figured things out! Hope it's everything you all were waiting for! Thanks to Stonefeath10135 for beta-ing for me! She does a great job!
Disclaimer: All this wonderfulness belongs to the fantastic J.K. Rowling…well, except the plot.
Letting It All Go
Chapter Six: I Forgive You
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"I forgive you.
We were just a couple of kids
trying to figure out how to live doing it our way."
—Kelly Clarkson
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Draco drummed his fingers on the dining room table as he watched Hermione down her fourth tumbler of whiskey on the rocks. He ground his teeth together as she lifted the bottle to refill her glass, causing her to glare at him. They both said nothing as she topped off her drink and planted the bottle back on the table causing it to thud against the hard wood. Just a half hour ago they'd finally decided to clear off the table, and in the process, Hermione had gotten them both large glasses of whiskey to drink. He managed to control himself so far, but as soon as his son and her two kids were back home, he was going to get piss drunk himself. Now, if only Granger could hold it together a bit longer, he was sure they'd be back shortly.
As she tilted her drink to her lips, the ice rattled in the glass and Draco cleared his throat to tell her to slow down, but he never got the chance. She slammed the glass down and threw her hands up in the air.
"What Draco? What is it that you're dying to say to me? Is it that I shouldn't be drinking when something important is going on?"
Draco rolled his eyes and took a tiny sip of his own whiskey before answering her, "I don't give a fuck if you drink or not, but it's probably not a terrific idea for the kids to walk in and find you drunk out of your mind. Aren't you the one who is always saying how important it is for your children never to find out about your drinking habits? I believe you're the one with the custody war with your ex husband currently. I don't care if he finds out, but for some reason, I think you'd be shit out of luck if he did." He tipped his glass to her and then took another sip.
Hermione narrowed her eyes and pushed her glass away, nearly knocking it over in the process. Draco merely smirked at the effect his words had on her. He was never able to get a rise out of her back in school, well there were a few instances, but for the most part, she kept her cool. It was interesting to see this different side to the woman. She played the well put together working mom so well, but when the lights went out, she was this alcohol addicted time bomb. No wonder the Weasel had left when he did. If Astoria had been a raging alcoholic, he probably would have left her too. He'd grown up with alcoholism right under his own roof, and being here now was causing some unhappy memories of the past to visit him. But those memories were much easier to deal with than the pain he felt every time he thought of his dead wife.
"Fine, Draco. I'll control myself and not have any more whiskey until later. I wonder what's keeping them anyway. It's getting late."
Draco was just about to respond when they heard the front door open. He relaxed in his chair, but Hermione stood unsteadily and had to hold onto the back of her chair to keep from falling. With an inward groan, he stood up just in case he needed to help her from falling over. The whiskey they were drinking was pretty strong and he was actually feeling slightly tipsy from the small amount he'd already consumed. This was going to be a good night.
The three kids appeared in the doorway. Hugo smiling, still holding a half eaten ice cream cone, Scorpius with his arms crossed over his chest and adamantly glaring at his sneakers, and then there was Rose, who looked determined. She shoved Scorpius into the room causing him to stumble and then turn his head to glare at her. Rose simply raised her eyebrows at him and reached out to shove him again, but he dodged it this time. He cleared his throat and stepped up to his father.
"Father, I'm sorry for what I said, and for storming out."
Draco looked down at his son and felt his anger and hurt from earlier melt away. This was his only son; his only connection to Astoria that remained. If he pushed him away what would he have left? Probably just alcohol and razors; not something that exactly made you want to wake up every morning. Draco clasped his hand on Scorpius' shoulder and gave him a smile, "It's alright, son. Sometimes we all say things we shouldn't."
Scorpius nodded and then turned towards Hermione, "And I'm sorry for storming out of here and leaving a mess behind."
Draco prayed she wouldn't slur her words as she replied, "Don't worry about it Scorpius. I believe I did nothing to help the situation either." She gave him a wink and then smiled at her own children, "I think there's been enough excitement for one night. Why don't you all head upstairs, help Scorpius get unpacked in Hugo's room and then go to bed. But first, Hugo you either finish that ice cream or get rid of it. You know the rules; no food upstairs."
"Yes mum." Hugo replied happily slurping up the rest of his snack.
"Goodnight." Rose and Scorpius said to them all before leaving the room.
After they heard the trio all the way upstairs Draco watched as Hermione collapsed back into her chair and reached for her glass; downing all the contents in one swift gulp. Draco sighed heavily before joining her back at the table. He knew that he'd be helping Granger to bed tonight; it seemed she was determined to drink the entire bottle of whiskey herself. He reached for the bottle and topped off his glass and raised it to her.
"Here's to you, Granger; holding it together when inside, you're falling apart." He downed his drink and refilled it once more before she could respond.
"I've had years of practice."
"Yes, I know that, but it's fun to see it in person. Here I am, a suicide survivor, watching my supposed Healer self medicate with alcohol. It's ironic isn't it? How did the two of us stumble into each other this way?"
"I don't really know what you're going on about," she began pointing her finger at him, "but, if you're saying that I'm not a decent Healer, you better change your way of thinking. I am one of the highest ranked Healers at St. Mungo's. I save people's lives every single day. I've even helped heal some of the most famous wizards in our world. After I left my job at the Ministry, I threw myself into Healer training. I traveled the world studying different techniques and learned plenty of new magic. Just because I failed one time, and I like my whiskey, does not mean I am incapable of healing you."
"I never said you were incapable, I'm just saying that you have a strange way of going about it. Why did you really bring me here, Granger? Why am I living here watching you slowly kill your liver?"
She chuckled darkly at him, "First, don't think I haven't noticed that you're calling me Granger again, and second, I brought you here to help you…I apologize if it hasn't really been going the way you planned."
He stretched his legs out and thought about her response. She was right; things really weren't going the way he thought they would be. He thought he would be locked in a tiny room all day writing in a journal and constantly talking about his feelings. Instead, he was actually a living person in the household. He helped cook, clean, and even was permitted to participate in family activities. He was learning about Muggle devices such as the television and cellular phones. Most importantly he was learning how to not to depend on magic for every little thing…and in the process there were parts of the day, hours even, that he went without dwelling on his lost wife. Maybe Granger was doing her job after all. He smirked at his drinking companion and opened his hands.
"I will admit this is the most unconventional way of healing I have ever heard of or experienced, but it's not all bad."
Hermione smiled and lifted her glass to him, "I will take that as a compliment, thank you very much."
He laughed and lifted his glass up to clink against hers. They both smiled cheekily at one another before drinking from their glasses. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes and Draco heard the sound of bedroom doors closing upstairs. A glance at the clock on the wall indicated that it was nearly eleven thirty. The children must be finally going to sleep. Taking that as his cue, Draco poured himself a generous glass of the amber liquid and let it sit with the remnants of his ice before taking a sip. He watched Hermione as she picked at her fingernails and frowned. He always remembered her as a lip biter, not a nail biter. Then again, he had always been one to use magic to deal with his problems. This was one of her ways of coping; drinking and nail biting.
He sat up as he noticed a scar on her arm. It couldn't be, could it? He tried to get a better look, but she moved her arm to pick up her glass and the spot was again covered up. He glanced down at his own scar; the faded Dark Mark. It was supposed to have disappeared after the demise of the Dark Lord, but he and other former Death Eaters, still found a very pale outline of the offensive tattoo on their skin. In that moment Draco knew he had some deep apologizing to do to the witch who sat across from him drowning her sorrows in a glass of whiskey.
"Hermione," he began causing her to whip her face up to look at him, "I know we have briefly discussed this before, but there are some things that I want to apologize for; from the past."
"Come on, Draco, we've been over this. You—''
"Yes. I do."
She let her breath flow out through her nose and nodded so Draco sat up in his seat and placed his hands flat on the table. This would take all the courage and patience he had. He was not one for apologizing, but if he ever planned on getting over himself and his grief; this was something that he felt he needed to do. He'd done so much over the years to hurt her, and sure she said she was over it, but he wasn't. And unless he did this, right now, he suspected it would haunt him forever.
"When I was growing up, I had to follow the beliefs of my parents. I was homeschooled before Hogwarts, so I knew nothing of the Muggle world. I never learned about the good of Muggles; I was only taught to hate them. I was taught that if you were not a pureblood; you basically were worthless. I didn't encounter any Muggleborns until I boarded the train to Hogwarts. My parents, especially my father, instructed me not to befriend anyone outside of Slytherin because they were not worth my time…and I believed him. As a child I idolized my father; what a sham he turned out to be. When I discovered the Dark Lord's blood status I began to doubt the cause we were fighting for. Why should we destroy and exile Muggleborns? What was the point? There was none."
"But Draco this happened so long ago. Why does it matter so much to you now?" Hermione reached out and placed her hand on top of Draco's. She squeezed slightly, but he pulled it back to run through his hair.
"It matters because my beliefs back then shaped how I treated those around me. I acted like some sort of king; like everyone was below me because I was from one of the oldest wizarding families around. In reality; I was scum. It all started in first year for me. I treated you like you were dirt on the bottom of my precisely polished shoes." Hermione made to interrupt him again but he held his hand up to stop her and continued.
"I was only a kid, I know that, but I know I must have caused you some damage along the way. I threw verbal attacks and curses at you. I lost count somewhere along the way how many times I made your bag split causing your books to fall everywhere. I insulted your blood status, your hair, your teeth, and your intellect. Not to mention how I was always trying to find ways to get you, Potter, and Weasel into trouble. I got myself into trouble trying to get you three busted more than once."
Hermione laughed and Draco felt himself relax a bit. It was nice that she could be so calm and laid back about the things he was discussing. They did happen over 25 years ago. But he wasn't finished yet. Before the night was over, he wanted to clean out his closet. He wanted a fresh conscience.
"So, Hermione, first, I want to apologize for the way I acted towards you while at Hogwarts. I should never have been like that with you. You were the smartest witch in school and your blood status should not have affected the way I looked at you."
Hermione finished the whiskey in her glass and stared at him with glazed eyes, "Draco, I have forgiven you for this a long time ago. I came to terms with the way you treated me years ago. You have nothing to worry about. I do not hate you any longer. In fact, I'm not sure I ever really hated you. Looking back I think I knew that you were just acting the way you thought you should. It's not a big deal. Now let's have some more to drink and relax before bed."
"There's a little bit more I want to apologize for."
Hermione gave him a puzzled look and asked, "What?"
Draco held out his hand and asked, "May I see your arm?"
"M-my arm?" She questioned pulling it close to her chest and trying to cover it with her sleeve. He nodded his head and stared her down, but not in a hostile way. He wanted her to know he was serious. He needed to see it. He wanted to face his fears. She looked down at her arm and then back up at his face. Her eyes seemed to be holding back unshed tears. Hermione swallowed, "Well, alright." She held out her arm.
She held out her hand and he took it in his. Her skin was surprisingly soft; he had never noticed before. This was the first time he'd touched her so gently. Normally he would just pick her up and carry her to bed after one of her drunken episodes. He never even thought twice about touching her, but now, he felt almost embarrassed as he slowly slid up her sleeve and revealed the smooth, pale skin of her forearm. She shivered at his touch, but he held strong. Unfortunately, the entire arm was not clean and flawless. There in an angry sort of red was the word he hated the most: Mudblood. He flinched when he saw it. In all the years since the war, it had not faded; it was still looked as fresh as if it had happened yesterday.
Glancing up he met her eyes. A few tears had escaped and were rolling freely down her cheeks. He watched as she used her other arm to attempt and dry them. He returned his attention to her scar, and as Hermione had done to his arms, he ran one gentle finger over the word. He felt her shiver again, and with one final glance, returned her sleeve to the way it was before, but he didn't let go of her hand. He stood and walked around the table until he was in front of her. Kneeling down he left go of her hand and used his thumb to rid her cheeks of the tears cascading down them.
"Don't cry Hermione."
"I don't mean to…it's just that having you looking at my scar; it brings back the memories of Bellatrix and the night she gave it to me. I haven't really thought about it for years. It's become a part of me; something I don't really even notice unless someone points it out."
"I want you to know how sorry I am about that night, Hermione."
"You don't need to be sorry for that…" she trailed off tucking a loose curl behind her ear.
"My own aunt tortured you in my own home while I stood by and did nothing."
Hermione leaned forward until their faces were merely inches apart, "If you had tried to stop her, Draco, she would have killed you, and then me."
"Maybe not…I was always her favorite, not that it was such a privilege, mind you, but if I had stopped her, you might not have that scar today. Potter and Weasley could have gotten you out of there without it."
She sighed and placed both hands on his shoulders, "Please do not beat yourself up over this. It happened so long ago…although I admit it was one of the most horrifying experiences of my life, I never held it against you. You bothering me in school, yes, I blamed you for that, but not this. Voldemort had taken control of your family and Manor; you were only doing what you felt was best. Plus, you did help us that day if you remember."
He shook his head causing his hair to fall onto his forehead, "What do you mean?"
"Don't you remember? You helped keep Harry's identity a secret. If you had told Bellatrix who he was right away, we'd all have been dead and Voldemort would be in control today, so you see, you helped save everyone."
"Looking back, I wish I had the courage to help you. I was such a coward back then…still am…"
Arms still on his shoulders, she shook him gently, "Stop that right now. You stop calling yourself that. Everything is in the past; I've moved on, and now it's time for you to move on as well. You will never get better if you keep dwelling on things. That's what I'm here working on with you."
He knocked his forehead into hers with a silly grin. He didn't know why he did that, but it felt right. Hermione threw her head back and laughed, so he supposed it wasn't a bad thing. Removing her hands from his shoulders he stood up and stretched. He still felt kind of upset, but the pain was leaving. Maybe Granger knew something about this healing thing after all. Plus it helped that they were getting along, well, for the most part. The firewhiskey didn't hurt either.
Standing by the table, Draco picked up the nearly empty bottle of whiskey and took a swig. He didn't bother with a glass. Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him and held out her hand for the bottle which he handed her. She took a swig as well and attempted to stand. She stumbled but Draco caught her just in time. With a little effort he had her standing under his arm and the bottle in his empty hand.
"Come on, Hermione. I think it's time for you to get to bed. It's been a long day for the both of us."
"Yes, I suppose you're right. Will you help me?"
"Sure." He set the bottle on the table and guided her upstairs; she was drunker tonight than she'd been in a while, so he found that he was carrying her more than guiding her. She was rambling about something she wanted to make for dinner tomorrow and he just nodded his head. When they reached her bedroom door he helped her through it and sat her on the bed. She immediately began taking off her shirt.
"Hermione, what the bloody hell are you doing?" Draco sputtered as he turned his back to her quickly. First off, he didn't need to be seeing Granger in her undergarments, and second, he didn't feel it would be right, seeing how he still loved his deceased wife and everything. Hermione simply laughed at his outburst.
"Oh, stop freaking out, Draco," she slurred, "You can turn around now. I'm under the covers."
Draco turned back around and walked over to the bed. Hermione was propped against the pillows with the quilt up to her chin. She had a huge grin on her face and was tapping the bed next to her indicating that Draco should have a seat. He obliged and then pulled his legs fully up onto the bed so he could lounge. Obviously she wasn't ready to go to sleep just yet. Maybe he could explain some things to her.
"Hermione, did you know that my mother is a recovering alcoholic?" He asked her simply, without meeting her eyes.
"No, I didn't. I'd never heard that before."
"Yes, it wasn't well known. Mostly just our family and our close group of friends knew; mother didn't want people to know. She got sober after the war." He smoothed out the quilt beside him and leaned down, propping his head up with his hand. Hermione was staring at him with a curious expression on her face. She was most likely going to grill him about his mother now, but that's what he wanted.
"Why did she get sober?"
"She was tired of being drunk all the time. During the war, it seemed like no big deal to her I guess; she was trying to deal with the world, the war, and everything that was going on under our roof. After the war ended she made my father throw out all the alcohol in the Manor, and when we moved to France, she wouldn't let anyone bring any into the chateau. She hasn't touched a drop since, and to be honest, I try not to drink around her. She's finally happy. After the life she had with my father she deserves this happiness."
Hermione nodded solemnly and then ran a hand through her hair. She seemed deep in thought about something, but it was hard to tell about what. She could take the conversation in many different directions. It was a bit unnerving how relaxed and at ease Draco had come to feel in her presence. It was as if he could tell her anything. In that moment, he knew that he would answer any question she threw at him. No more lies, no more dodging questions, and especially, no more holding back. He owed her that much at least.
"I think that someday, I'd like to get sober. I'm not ready right now."
"Why not?"
"I just know that I wouldn't be able to do it."
"You're Hermione Granger; the brightest with of your age, and you don't think you can get sober?"
"Well, not on my own, anyway. I couldn't do what your mother did. I'm not brave enough."
"You're kidding me right?" Draco shook his head at her, "You're a Gryffindor." He was shocked to hear her saying she was a coward about something. It just didn't mesh with the image he'd always had of her. She'd always been so brave in his eyes. Something had gone wrong with this witch, and he hoped that someday, she'd be able to overcome it.
"I am not joking around, Draco. Someday, I will deal with this problem, but for now, I'm…fine living the way I do."
Instead of replying right away, Draco sat in silence staring out the window. The buzz from the whiskey was finally wearing off and was starting to be replaced with a dull throbbing behind his eye. He should probably get some sleep, but for some reason, he couldn't tear himself away from the conversation just yet.
Hermione leaned over and clicked off the lamp and snuggled deeper into the quilt. He thought she was showing that she was ready to go to sleep, but as he went to get up from the bed, she stopped him.
"Why was your mother so unhappy, Draco?"
He settled back down and sat up straight, "He used to abuse her; not physically, but mentally and verbally. Sometimes, he would cast a freezing spell on her and then just scream in her face. It hadn't always been like that though. They used to just fight, mostly, but then as the war came on it became more sadistic, and it drove her to drinking. After the war, he just stopped; cold turkey, just like mother stopped her drinking."
In the dark, Draco watched Hermione slowly shaking her head as she took it all in, "You had a rough life."
"I guess you could say that. It wasn't what I had always wanted, but it turned out alright in the end. My father got what was coming to him, my mother is finally in love and happy, and I have my…my son."
"Astoria would want you to be happy, you know? You can find your happiness again someday."
"I know…but I'm not ready yet."
"Touché."
They laughed a little and then Draco finally stood up, "I think I'm going to get some sleep. You should do the same. I'll check in on you in the morning; there's some hangover potion in your bedside drawer if you need it."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Draco headed towards the door, opened it, and stepped into the hallway. He was just about to pull the door closed, when Hermione once again stopped him.
"Malfoy?" It came out in a teasing sort of tone, so he decided to tease right back.
"What is it, Granger?" He smirked and could just make out her face in the dim light from the hallway that flooded the room.
"I forgive you." She said it in a serious tone, and it made Draco have chills all over. He didn't know what to say so he simply nodded his head towards her and shut the bedroom door quietly. Leaning his back against it, he heard her begin to cry on the other side. He ran a hand over his tired face and sank his head into his chest with a deep sigh.
This thing they had going on was more complicated than it should be.
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A/N: Thank you to ExTaCy925, Dramione-Fan 17, StoneFeather30135, and irishbabygrl for reviewing the last chapter! Please review! It would be nice to see more of you reviewing! Even if you do it anonymously OR without logging in! Also, you can always look for me on tumblr (dustnight25832)! Yes, it used to be, satink06, but I changed it. I am also thinking of changing my pen name on here to that as well! So keep a look out for it!