The winter wind kissed Hermione's cheeks as she quickly worked her way down the bustling sidewalks towards her shop. The year had started out relatively busy with children either returning to Hogwarts or going there for the first time. Her shop carried a variety of things for the everyday student there, but also something for the parents. She stocked a fair bit of the coursework materials that would give a competitive rate to any other bookstore around Diagon Alley, but there wasn't a desire for competition. Her desire for the store to begin with was to have a place where she felt safe. A place where she felt as if she could enjoy her time alone, where there was no pressure to make sure the world was saved, to make sure her friends would live, her love would be spared, and as if her job was sufficiently satisfied.
Those few things: no pressure on herself, the priority of her friends, and the saviour of her love – were the only things that kept her going once everything was said and done. The Order won the war, Voldemort was defeated, Hermione went on to write a detailed dissertation about the effects of the war on young wizarding folk which turned into a best seller amongst her peerage. This is what secured her financial stability to open her own shop – to sell her book at her store, to stock the books that she loved to read during her time at Hogwarts, even if they weren't always a part of the curriculum now that time had passed. She still seemed to have a net profit at the end of the year and she was able to continue to keep the shelves stocked for those who would need it.
This winter was especially difficult. The weather decided it was time to change and she wasn't particularly ready for it. The first snowfall happened one night in November – when it was forecast to happen mid-December this year. It seemed like there was a shift in the air, something she was never able to explain to her friends, but she felt it and she was positive they did too.
Her fingers shook with the bitter air as she went to unlock the door of her shop. The quiet atmosphere of Diagon Alley in the early morning welcomed her with a hug. As she swung the door open and promptly flipped the closed sign so that those who passed by could read open, she started unwrapping her scarf from her body and placing it on the chair behind her till desk.
Her coat was soon to follow with the process of discarding items, her chair becoming more full by the minute. The last to be removed was her hat that she affectionately wanted to keep on longer than she wanted to admit. Though the store itself was properly heated – the chill of the morning air clung to her bones with an iron grip which she was hoping a warm cup of coffee would shake.
Near the till was the coffee station – exclusively placed there for herself on these types of mornings. She worked through putting the grounds into the machine and filling the pot up with water before pouring it inside the compartment and plugging the device in to start the process of dripped coffee.
The aroma of the store and the coffee filled her senses. It was calming to her, this place, these smells, this was her home.
The sound of the door opening and closing shook Hermione from her thoughts. She grabbed a mug quickly and poured the coffee before turning around and smiling at the new customer.
"Good Morning, welcome to sanctuaire du savoir." Hermione said with a bright smile, bringing her cup to her lips.
The two wizards gave Hermione a tight-lipped smile and made their way to the back of the store where the majority of the stationary and home products resided. It wasn't often that customers would want to chat or have questions about what she had – however, the lack of conversation sometimes made her feel empty. She couldn't blame them though, it was bright and early in the morning and they probably came in first to avoid the rush that wasn't entirely about to start.
She wandered around the front of the store with her mug in hand, moving things around that needed to be repositioned or put in a different spot, finding that the manual labour of organizing her shop made the days go by faster. The seasonal items were in full swing at the front of the store. It was the end of the first week of December and she was prepared for the bustle of young witches and wizards returning home from Hogwarts for their winter holidays; the Christmas presents being the next big thing on the list of things to do from their parents.
A smile fondly made its way to her face, thinking about how she had her plans to go back to the Burrow this year for Christmas dinner. Molly had insisted on not bringing anything but every year, Hermione found herself bringing some sort of holiday dessert for the crew. Her thoughts were cut short by a curt cough coming from the till table.
"My apologies, how did you find everything today?" She asked with a smile
"Fine." The woman responded
Hermione gave a tight-lipped smile and proceeded to check the items out. The couple looked familiar – though everyone looked familiar.
"Will you be needing a gift receipt?" She smiled
"A what?" The man questioned.
"A gift receipt – it's just in case the object is for a gift and the recipient would like to come back and exchange it for something else," Hermione explained
"Sure…" the woman conceded.
Hermione gave a quick nod and went to conjure up a gift receipt before putting it inside with the items. She looked up at the couple, finally getting a better look at the two that stood before her. It was Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. She didn't realize how she couldn't recognize them as they walked in earlier, though they shot straight to the back and didn't say much.
She wrapped the purchase up for the two, as she did for every purchase regardless of the year. It was the one thing she prided herself in, good presentation for the things she worked hard to bring to her clientele. Once she was finished she handed the box to Pansy before giving her another customer service smile.
"Thank you for shopping with us, have a great day and happy holidays." She continued her smile.
Blaise and Pansy gave her a nod before making their way to exit the store. Faint conversation between the two consisted of, 'I'm surprised she didn't say anything' and 'she probably doesn't know' with a response of 'no one knows Pans' and a sad sigh returning from Parkinson. It was just as they were leaving the store that Pansy turned her head and gave a sad smile towards Hermione.
~
There was something about that smile that haunted Hermione for the remainder of the day. She hadn't spoken to the two of them since her last year at Hogwarts when she saw them on more occasions than she cared to admit to Ron – but whilst she and Harry were alone during the hunt for Horcrux's she admitted everything. Ron never knew, he would never know. She prided herself on keeping them safe from his ego. Harry was always the sensible one, whom though he wasn't ashamed of his prejudice towards the Slytherin group – he saw where she found her soft spot for them.
He knew what it was like to want something you weren't able to have. Happiness. So when it came down to fighting against them, he understood why she never sent curses that would seriously injure them, he understood why she closed her eyes when it came to running away once things were said and done. So as the day dragged on and she finished up with the last customer before flipping the sign on the door to 'closed', she let out a sigh of anxiety that was plaguing her the entire day.
Her eyes surveyed the quiet store, it was what they wanted…
"If there was something you could change about right now, what would it be?" Hermione asked quietly as her head rested on his chest, fingers trailing the scars that only existed because of Harry's fine work.
"What do you mean, Granger?" Malfoy asked placing a kiss on the top of her head.
"We're at the start of a war Draco, and yet, you seem perfectly content with the life path we're headed down? What would you wish it was if we weren't in this lifetime?" She asked raising her head to look at him
Draco pondered her question while running his hands through her mess of curls. He seemed to be deep in thought like he was placing importance on the answer he would give her. As if, his life depended on it.
"I'd own a store," he started while a smile started to erupt onto her features, "I'd fill it with all of the things that I wished they would have required us to bring here. Candles that you can charm to smell like home, pillows, and blankets that were actually comfortable, and books that you would need," he took a break to look into her eyes while she beamed with the thought of said store, "I guess I'd include you in this endeavor…" he trailed off
A laugh erupted from her chest and she smacked his chest with a fake insult. His hands caught hers and he flipped them over so he hovered over her, staring into her eyes. Her laugh died down and her face leveled out so that she was staring deep into his eyes.
"Yes, I'd definitely include you." He said, dipping his head down to capture her lips in a kiss.
She grabbed her coat from behind the cash station and grabbed her bag and keys to her flat, momentarily halting and staring at the first-ever edition of her book that she kept on the wall behind everything. Somewhere that was close to her. She placed her coat and the other items in her hand on the counter one more time before grabbing the book and feeling the hard leather cover that she first published it under. The leather was worn in, from her opening and closing it multiple times. It was always to do that one thing, to read the acknowledgments page that she made for this first copy. Her fingers easily opened it while peering down at the page she loved so much. There, in a bold, italicized text read:
For You.
Chapter 3: ii
Summary:
where some new, but old friends enter the chat.
Chapter Text
(ii)
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he was in her dreams that night:
"Draco," she breathed out, hands grasping at his hair as his lips enclosed around her right nipple and his hand massaged the left.
"I love it when you say my name." He groaned, shifting himself so he ground his pelvis into hers all the while a throaty moan escaped him.
Her hands grabbed onto anything they could, his shoulders, the sheets, the peak of his ass pulling him into her. She was frantic to get his clothes off. This Draco was older than the last time she had seen him, and she was subsequently the age she was now. His stubble itched her body as his mouth teased around the edge of her jeans, his hands undoing the button and zipper in one fluid movement. With her eyes closed and head thrown back in anticipation Draco removed the garment and trailed his lips up her inner thighs as soon as they were freed from the denim. His fingers curled around the band of her thong and slid it down with ease as his mouth came closer to her clit. The hot air of his breath added another element to the nerves she was feeling. But it was as his tongue licked a strip up her heat that a long sigh escaped her.
Hermione jolted up in bed, her hands clutching the blanket as if to preserve her dignity in a room alone, in the house alone. Her breath came out in uneven gasps as the sleep fog cleared her mind. She blamed this indication of her overactive imagination on the two cups of camomile tea she had. Her typical fare was only one cup but the events of the day, seeing Pansy and Blaise again, caused her to decide to treat herself to something that would welcome sleep.
She checked the clock next to her bed, the numbers reading clearly 2:03am. She had barely been asleep for three hours and now she felt as if she couldn't fall asleep again. It had felt so real, his breath, his skin touching hers, she shivered at the thought of his existence in her dreams. But the thought alone was enough to raise her pulse and she couldn't have another night that was plagued by less than four hours of sleep. Hermione tossed the covers off of her and she made her way to the cabinet in her bathroom. She swung the doors open and ruffled into the back where she grabbed a vial of dreamless sleep. Memories floating back to when she lived off it exclusively until her therapist told her it was wiser to write everything down about her memories and then burn it. An exercise that turned out to become a national and global best-selling book. After she finished that first draft of the book she found herself finally being able to sleep at night.
Moments after the liquid entered her system, she tucked herself back into bed and closed her eyes. This time, her dreams were devoid of anything, her sleep was black, quiet, and fulfilling its duty to get her energies up.
When she awoke the second time, the light of dawn streamed through her windows. Everything in the morning was peaceful, her routine was mundane and she relished in the fact that it was consistent throughout the past few years. She rose from bed, made her way to the bathroom, freshened herself up, changed into a 'bookstore owner' appropriate outfit, and made her way downstairs to make her breakfast of eggs and fruit. It was the same thing every morning, and until this moment she felt as if it was the perfect consistency to make herself happy.
This morning however, she opted for whole grain toast and jam. It was a break in her routine and she didn't question it. She took the toast on the go after she bundled herself up for the winter-like weather outside and ran out the door before securing the locks. She bought a place close to the store when she was able to do so, there wasn't an issue with apparating to just outside of the store but the walk was a nice way to get out into the fresh air while she was stuck inside all day.
"Good Morning." She exchanged with her closest neighbours with a smile while she swiftly made her way down the road.
There was a lack of wind today, unlike yesterday that gave her cheeks a more unusual shade of pink – today she was lucky with just the cold air flush. She noticed all of the people bustling about at this hour of the day. A unusual number compared to the normal morning, but it made her happy to see the alley so full of life. Must be that it's close to Christmas, everyone is trying to get everything in she thought.
She was knocked out of her thoughts as her shoulders were knocked by a passing by patron. Hermione whipped around to apologize but was stopped short as they continued to walk, only able to get a look at the backside of the wizard who was striding away almost purposefully.
Her store was in view now, a line starting to form consisting of witches and wizards in pairs, parents, she hypothesized. As she cut in front of the line she gave the patrons a smile and unlocked the door, swiftly swinging the sign around and letting those behind her have the door so they could get in and grab the items they desired. She unclothed her outer layer and waited patiently for everyone to finish. The line slowly disintegrating from outside and reappearing inside.
"How did you find everything?" She asked the handful of customers while she wrapped up their gifts.
Everyone had said either, "good", "amazing, I knew exactly what I needed", or "Great, thank you". She had greeted everyone with a warm smile and acknowledged their business and thanked them once they had paid and left the building.
"'Mione!" A voice rang through the chaos.
Hermione's face brightened at the bravado tone and the mess of red hair that greeted her eyes.
"Ronald, what are you doing here?" She smiled as she moved around the vacant cash desk and gave him a hug.
"Oh you know, Harry is notoriously difficult to buy for, I figured you'd have something here he'd like." He smiled
She beamed at him, her hands resting on his upper arms and she nodded towards him and motioned to the back of the store and into the storage room. She knew exactly what he could get Harry, it was something she was saving for her to give him, but seeing Ron here, looking flushed about what to get his Husband, she knew it was right to give it to him.
Ron and Harry were always going to end up together, she knew it from the moment that the two fought while they were searching for Horcruxes. Harry had been anxious for many days while he was gone but refused to talk to her about it. As soon as she told him everything about her and Draco he opened up. His love for Ron ran deeper than she had expected, and when the war was finished and they all fled the country together to experience anything other than England, their relationship began to flourish.
"I was going to give it to him myself, but I think you should give it to him." She pulled out a photograph of them from their first year together, one where they were all smiling.
"Really 'mione?" he looked at her in shock
She nodded and smiled before saying "It's charmed, so you can add either a second photo for only when he sees it or you can charm it to say something behind the photograph, again, only for him to see." She finished
"I –" he started to protest.
"No, Ron, give it to him, I can find a different present I promise." She smiled before folding his arms so that he was now cradling the photo.
Ron enveloped her into a hug thanking her into her hair. She nodded in his shoulder and pulled back reminding him that she wouldn't accept money for this gift, that it was his to give to him. He protested, but she wouldn't let his begging persuade her. She was adamant on him giving this to Harry.
They left the storage room and she moved to the front of the store, assisting the two people who were waiting to check out. Their orders were alarmingly similar – two charmable candles, a copy of her book, and a blanket. They insisted it was for their children so they could have matching spots to read the book together… if you asked her, she was convinced it was so they could read it together as a couple.
"Have a great rest of your day." She smiled at the people before sitting down behind the desk and grabbed the lunch she packed for herself the night before. A thermos of soup and a muffin. Two oddly paired foods, but it was welcome all the same.
She did a warming spell on the thermos and started with the muffin, unwrapping the base and taking a bite straight away. As soon as she finished she took a spoon out and got straight away into the soup. The boy welcoming the warmth of the soup as the door chimed and a singular man walked in.
"Good Afternoon," she smiled at the stranger with a hat on.
"Hermione Granger?" A low tone escaped their mouth
"All the same… Mr.?" she questioned
"Hermione I can't believe you wouldn't recognize me." He jested.
"I apologize, I can't make out your face from here and with the hat on…" she trailed off, as the stranger took of the hat and tousled the curls on his head revealing Theodore Nott.
"Theo." She breathed out looking at him, mouth gaping open.
He looked so different, so mature, like the end of the war had shaped him. She was sure it did, it had shaped them all. His hair was longer, enough to show the natural curls that hardly made an appearance when they were in school, then they had last spoken. He was wearing all black, a black felt trench coat for the winter, black dress pants, and black ankle type dress boots to add. His hands were covered in black leather gloves that were slowly being worked off his hands finger by finger while he walked towards her. He was different but the same, he was someone she hadn't expected to see but was a welcome surprise.
"I - what - how have you been?" Hermione stammered out
"Why are you so shocked to see me Hermione? It's not as if I was the closest thing you had for a brother during Hogwarts" he laughed
She looked at him with a disbelieving look on her face. He was joking? Why the fuck was he joking? He literally just showed up after eight years of only letters - the letters that kept her sane during some of her hardest times. It was because he was like a brother that made all of this so shocking, somebody who just showed up out of the blue made her head race in the oddest way and with the way her morning was going this wasn't coming off to be a shock.
"Yes… that's exactly why I'm shocked to see you, Theo." She deadpanned.
"I know I know, letters only suffice for so long, I wanted to see the famous Hermione Granger in the flesh." He beamed
She couldn't blame him for finally coming around – it seemed almost time for it to happen. But the problem that she was coming up with was, why now? Why after all these years that it seemed sufficient to finally see her when he could've gone for so long without doing so. Their letters could've faded into something that was almost as nostalgic in many years to come but yet here he was… looking at her as if she was a ghost of Christmas past and she was doing the exact same thing.
"What can I get you, Theo." She offered in the most customer service voice she could give him
His eyes focused on her, or beyond her, she could tell. His persistence coming to the forefront of his personality.
"That." He pointed behind her.
She turned her head to the array of books and paraphernalia behind her that represented the bookstore. That represented him.
"What exactly are you directing your attention to Mr. Nott." She looked at him professionally
"The book, Hermione," he started, tilting his head to get a read on her, "I want the first edition copy of the book." He spoke achingly slow.
"It's not for sale." She said with pointed interest.
"Everything has a price." He replied, standing his ground.
"Not this, this doesn't have a price." She looked at him
Theo pondered for a moment, looking at her and assessing the words that were about to come out of his mouth – "I'll match the earnings that that book has cost you." He said with assertion.
She looked at him, he looked at her. It would be an ungodly amount of money that she would make. It would put her in a place that she wouldn't have to worry about the financial stipulations of who she wanted to be and who she was aiming to become.
Parting with that book would mean more than she was willing to admit, it would mean parting with Draco and everything they promised each other. But eight years was enough time right? It surely seemed enough to Hermione. She waited for him. She waited through years of pain, years of PTSD. She waited through storms and calm, she waited through every conceivable moment that when Theodore Nott, a ghost of her past spoke those words, that she was finally able to look in the mirror and see who she had become. She grew without Draco Malfoy, she missed his touch, she missed his kiss, she missed the inconceivable way that she could fathom a life without him. But yet as the words slipped her mouth she didn't regret them. It was time to let go of the past and reclaim her future.
"Sold."
Chapter 4: iii
Summary:
these chapters are progressively getting longer and I'm living for it
Chapter Text
(iii)
She showed up at the burrow in hysterics that night. After letting Theo know what the net revenue of the book was and the subsequent galleons being placed in front of her, she apparated away and broke down. Her tears were greeted by molly and the kids, but her only request was to speak to Harry; he had to be here. She was right with her reasoning, he had been in a conversation with Ginny, and the second he saw her he excused himself and rushed them to a private room, putting a silencing charm up immediately.
"What happened?" He consoled her as hiccups of tears flowed down her cheeks.
"I -" she gasped
"I - sold - it," she said finally collapsing to the floor.
Harry's perplexed face said it all, what was it and why was it so important?
"The book, his book, our book" she managed to gasp out.
His shock turned into understanding which turned into concern. "To who?" He asked slowly
"Theo Nott," she started, tears running down her face, "he showed up out of nowhere, offered me my entire net revenue and I couldn't refuse." She sobbed
She didn't even think about the decision she was making - it just came out when he offered her the net revenue price to match. She could get in more unique books that she had wanted to stock at the beginning of the store opening now with this money. But that seemed like an arbitrary use of the money after letting go of someone who she refused to let go of for so long.
"Hermione…" Harry looked like he was choosing his words carefully.
"Why did you feel the need to sell it?" He asked
"It was so rash Harry, I didn't even think about what I was doing until the words came out of my mouth and I was selling the books. The galleons being offered and the amount of things I could fill the store with, with all of that money flashed in front of my eyes. It was impulsive, I sold him away, I let go and I didn't even realize I was doing it until I was apparating here. Am I stupid? Was it a mistake? It has to have been a mistake if I feel this way about the choice that I made." The tears had yet to let up.
Harry moved to run his hand in circles around her back while soothing her flowing tears and anxiety. "Do you think that you sold it because you were ready to let go?" He asked softly
"Well of course I was ready to let go! It's been eight years, I haven't seen him in eight years, I'm not even certain if he's still alive at this point!" She sobbed.
"Maybe it was time…. Maybe you're ready to move on." He smiled trying to get to her brain.
She stared at the floor and considered his words carefully. She was ready to let go, she had grown into a new woman, not the same girl she was when she fell in love with Draco. But at the same time, she felt as if her love for him grew with her into the person she was now. She wasn't aware of who she would be without the ghost of him in her life.
"You're right," she sighed "I needed to let go." She finished with a firm feeling that she was declaring that she was done with holding onto the past.
"Is there firewhisky in this place?" She looked up at Harry with hopeful eyes.
He beamed at her and exited the room, shutting the door behind her. She sat there in her thoughts, finally calmed down from the experience of the past few hours. She hadn't let her brain calm down, letting it circle and make her stress increase. The calm of the room, the ticking of the clock, and the quietness of her breathing let her finally come down from the high she had been riding for so long. But as she calmed down the door slowly opened to give a view of a sheepish-looking Harry followed by a clueless-looking Ron.
"He saw the firewhisky and wanted to join…" Harry trailed off
"The more the merrier." Hermione smiled and reached for the glass, grazing fingers with Harry in the process.
Once the bottle was in her hands she popped open the corked top and took two long swigs earning a concerning look from Ron and an amused one from Harry. Once she finished her last sip she thrust the bottle forward for the next person to take their swig. Harry was first, followed by a still confused Ron.
"Why exactly are we drinking firewhisky?" Ron asked between his first and second sip; mirroring Hermione's lead.
Hermione and Harry peered at one another, debating on the course of action they would go with this conversation. Years ago, when they mentioned her relationship with Draco Malfoy, after the end of the war, Ron had taken it as well as one would expect – like a baby throwing a temper tantrum about something that had nothing to do with him. Ever since that one experience the duo opted to remove any of Hermione's pain about Draco from any sort of conversation they had… which when Hermione thought about it, was stupid of her to do because all it did was leave her with her thoughts alone.
"I sold the book," Hermione said, taking her third and fourth swigs after one another not letting go of the bottle.
"And frankly if you're going to get upset about this topic, then I'll request that you grab another bottle." She shot at him, eyes narrowing.
Harry's eyes also shot at Ron, giving the impression of don't fuck up your next words babe. Ron looked at the both of them and then grabbed the bottle from Hermione taking a long gulp of the liquor before saying, "Why?"
"Because I was offered the sum total of my entire revenue from all copies." She stated
Ron seemed to contemplate that fact, "That's a good offer for one book, but 'mione, the last fight we had over this topic you said you'd never part with a piece of Malfoy. I'm just curious as to why now after you were so adamant about keeping it forever, you chose to sell it." He said while passing the bottle to Harry.
"Honey, she's finally let go," Harry said while taking Ron's hand in his and simultaneously taking a drink.
"Not completely, Harry." Hermione started, "I need to though, I can't keep living like this." She said looking down.
"It's a good step," Ron noted with a nod.
"What happened to the person who loathed Draco and I's relationship?" She scoffed.
"Oh I'm still here, but I can't keep fighting with you over it. Also, I'm sure at this point you don't want to fight anymore." He replied with a smile.
Hermione nodded at him, understanding etching into her face. He had grown so much since being with Harry in a relationship and not just two guys hanging out and getting into trouble. It made her proud that they found each other in the chaos… that their love survived and flourished in the hardest of times. Thinking about how things were so opposite for their respective situations Hermione gestured towards the bottle and grabbed it while standing up – a wobble coming from the upwards motion.
"I think he's somewhere out there, you know?" She said, looking out the window.
"He for sure is unless the git finally left the country." Ron quipped.
Hermione spun around and shot daggers at him while watching Harry hit him across the head and chastise him. "You incorrigible Ronald Weasley." She spat
"Hermione, think of it this way." Harry started, "By the sound of everything that you told me during the hunt, you two were soulmates. If that's the case I think that if he didn't come back it was for some reason greater than just not wanting to come home. Maybe his sentence made him want to let you go…?" Harry tried to reason.
"I used to like to think that one day when he was out of Azkaban that he would walk through the front doors of the store and tell me he was home." She looked out the window at the sun falling under the horizon line. "But I guess I was wrong, he never did, I'm not even sure if he's still in Azkaban. He fell off the face of the earth once his sentence was given." She sighed, another tear threatening to fall.
Harry and Ron stood up simultaneously and made their way to her side, slinging their arms over her shoulders and pulling her into a hug. "If it's meant to happen 'mione, it'll happen." Ron muttered against her hair as he gave her head a kiss. Harry smiled at her knowingly, muttering something along the lines of "you've always deserved happiness, you just need to go and find it".
~ ~
Nott Manor at the exact same moment…
"I'm not sure why you wanted to pay so much for this damn book, man." Theo said putting the package down at the table in front of him.
Draco's eyes followed his best mate and made their way to the perfectly wrapped book. He had been looking for this for so long, for her, she had been under his nose this entire time. To be fair, he had decided to remain under the radar this entire time, after his sentence to Azkaban was over he chose to isolate himself from everyone but the people he grew up with before Hogwarts. He stayed with Theo the longest before finally re-introducing himself to Pansy, Blaise, Astoria, and Daphne, the rest of the world knew him as the alias he used for donations to charities. He had no other purpose except for philanthropic endeavors - endeavors that he promised himself and her that they would do if there was a world where they would live after the war together. But he lost, she won, but they both chose not to find each other.
"You know me, Theo, I like my first edition copies." Draco drawled out leaning back in his chair, adjusting the way his pants clung to his legs.
"Then show me how special this damn book is, man." Theo rolled his eyes, sitting down across from him
Draco rolled his eyes while grabbing the package and began unwrapping it delicately, such that the wrapping paper did not rip. The worn leather appeared as the paper faded away onto the counter. It looked like it had been read numerous times… perhaps she had given it to her annoying friends to read after she created the masterpiece. He opened the spine and let the pages flip open, the words passing by in a blur - the smell of a new book flowing into his senses. A smile found itself in his eyes as he looked up at Theo when the acknowledgments page appeared.
"This. This is why I wanted this book." He slid it across from himself so that Theo could peer down at the two words.
Theo's eyes shot up to meet his grey ones as he leaned back in his chair matching Draco, holding the book up and peering down at it. "No fucking way." He whispered.
"I know," Draco smirked
"She literally…" Theo started
"Dedicated it to me." He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest
Theo closed the book and put it on the counter and peered back at Draco, "So what are you going to do about this?" He questioned
Draco pondered the question for a moment, there was no way if he showed up that she would take it well. He stayed away for this long, she was probably pissed off with him for never coming back to her after Azkaban. He felt ashamed that he had to go, his pride got in the way of being near her again. She had to have moved on after she was gone.
"I'm sure I'll figure something appropriate to do." He said relaxing his position in the chair and looking at Theo with an expecting rebuttal for his ambiguity
"Well…" Theo started, "should we drink…?" He said with a questioning tone.
A barking laugh erupted from Draco's chest, a laugh that he hadn't given for a long time. It was as if holding a piece of her made him feel normal again like she was his lifeline to sanity and he was finally devoid of all of the complications of his past. Draco nodded to Theo and gestured towards the fire whisky on the countertop that was adjacent to two rocks glasses. Theo knew the gesture all too well, and with a flick of his wrist, the bottle of alcohol floated over to them and began a stiff pour into the glasses. Theo slid Draco's portion towards them and they toasted to nothing. Maybe if Draco thought about it hard enough they were toasting to a newer life, to coming out of the shadows finally, but regardless of the reason behind the toast he grasped the glass, his hand enveloping the piece of glassware and took a long swig; enough to finish it off.
~ ~
Hermione woke the next morning with a raging migraine and to being enveloped by two sets of arms. She turned around to realize she was the smallest spoon behind Harry who was being spooned by Ron in the same bed. She couldn't for the life of her remember how much they had drunk or how they ended up in the position that they were in but one glance at the floor and the two now empty bottles of Firewhisky. She eased Ron and Harry's hands off of her body and she slipped out the door and down the stairs – the morning giving the Burrow a quiet atmosphere that contrasted its usual livelihood.
Grabbing her jacket from near the front door, she put it on with her hat and mittens while stepping outside for some fresh air. The hoar frost hung on the plants around the house and sundogs littered the sky. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the exhale come out in a long draw.
"I have to let you go." She whispered, opening her eyes, "but I don't want to." She choked out, letting the words drift off into the thin air of the morning calm.
They were standing at the edge of the tent, winter had set its scene on the world around it. He had made her coffee that morning, waking her up with a kiss that turned into them tumbling around the sheets of the bed and their moans filling the inside of the tent, blocking out the world around them. His arms wrapped around her midsection as she leaned into him, both hands holding onto the cup that warmed her fingers.
"I could get used to this." He muttered, taking a sip of his coffee.
She turned her head to look up at him as he smiled down at her, "what? Sneaking off to a tent in the woods during school so that we won't be interrupted by our friends?" she quipped with a smirk.
"Granger please, I know you like knowing that our friends can hear how loud I make you moan." He whispered into her ear, kissing the pulse just underneath it.
She closed her eyes, breathing at the moment.
"Malfoy," she moaned in a whisper.
He pulled the two of them back into the tent, letting the coffee cups drop to the ground, muttering about how they would do a cleaning charm to make sure it wasn't a problem. Her arms grasped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head, dropping to her knees while undoing his trousers.
"You don't need to," he started to protest but her mouth wrapped around the head of his cock silencing him.
Hermione came to her senses when she heard people bustling inside of the burrow finally, taking her away from the moment that she was having with her subconscious. She turned around and let the words she spoke and the thoughts she had to hang in the air outside as she opened the door and smiled at Molly who was busy making breakfast.
"Good Morning dear, are you feeling better?" She smiled
"Much." Hermione smiled back, taking her jacket, mitts, and hat off before going to help Molly set up for breakfast.