Chapter 5

Draco stepped swiftly away from the door where he had been listening. When he had first closed the door, he had moved away in case Potter checked to see if he was there. Then, in true Slytherin fashion, he had come back to eavesdrop.

He was very protective of his townhouse because of the way Malfoy Manor had been violated during the war. He had been unable to sell the place because it was tied to each Malfoy heir with ancient enchantments that he couldn't break, but he never wanted to go back there. The townhouse here in London was one of the few places where he had no memories of Voldemort or the Death Eaters. Because of that, he was very particular about who he let in. Potter was not someone he wanted in his home.

But because Granger had been willing to go into the street to speak to the idiot, Malfoy had let him in.

As he listened, he found himself pleased to hear Granger defend him to her friend, although he really didn't give a fuck what Potter thought of him. He was dismayed to hear, however, that Granger was the only one who had volunteered to treat his mother. If she hadn't been willing to do it, he was sure Narcissa would have died.

It just hit home to him how very isolated he and Narcissa were now. Reviled and despised by everyone, he had learned to be ignored; but it was a very lonely life. During the war he had been just as isolated since he was an unwilling Death Eater under the auspices of Lord Voldemort; but at least now he and his mother were not in mortal danger at every moment, forced to perform unspeakable acts to survive. He supposed he had Potter to thank for that, he admitted grudgingly.

It didn't change the fact that people hated the Malfoys so much that they were willing to let his mother die out of spite. Granger had been a breath of fresh air in a life that was otherwise starved for human fellowship. He hadn't realized how lonely he was until she appeared on his doorstep with her bright smiles, witty conversation, and sparkling brown eyes.

He knew he would be very lonely indeed once she left.

Was there a way he could continue to spend time with Granger after she was done treating his mother? He didn't fool himself that she saw him as anything other than pleasant company while she was bored. She wouldn't give him a second thought once she left Malfoy House.

He wanted to be her friend.

Well, he wanted to be her friend and to fuck her, but he would settle for being her friend.

When he heard Granger and Potter saying their goodbyes, he hurried back to his mother's room to pretend that he had been there eating his dinner all along.

Maybe there was a way he could convince Granger to be his friend.

Hermione felt a little frustrated but also relieved by the time Harry left. She knew that he and Malfoy had hated each other as long as they had known each other; but all of them had grown up now. She had changed since she had been in school, as Malfoy had said, and so had he. Harry and Malfoy just needed to accept that. She had gotten a little annoyed with Harry's insistence that Malfoy was somehow out to hurt her, but glad he had given in to her judgment in the end. That was the Harry she knew.

She made her way back to Narcissa's room. Malfoy was sitting calmly eating his pudding, having finished his dinner. He raised an imperious eyebrow when she entered. "Everything all right?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, still a little annoyed with him. "When are you and Harry going to get over your ridiculous little feud?"

"The git almost killed me in sixth year with that bloody curse! I still have the scars!"

"I know," said Hermione calmly. "But as you said earlier, we've all changed since school."

"I said you'd changed, not Potter." Malfoy sounded a bit petulant.

Hermione suppressed a smile at his childish tone. "Would you at least try to get along until your mother's better? It's going to be a long recovery, at least a month or two, and I'll have to come here often to care for her. Harry's willing to try," she added.

Malfoy's face lost some of its stubbornness. "I'll try to get along with the wanker, but for your sake, not for his."

Hermione beamed at him. "That's all I can ask." She set to finish her beef and potatoes, but found that they had turned cold. Sending a warming charm over them, they were soon steaming again and she dug in.

After a minute Malfoy cleared his throat. "So what form does your patronus take?" he asked. "I know Potter's is a stag."

She looked up at him. "Mine's an otter."

Malfoy smiled. "An otter. That's perfect for you."

She smiled back at him. "It is?"

"Yeah. Otters are lithe and whimsical." He seemed as if he would say more, but cut himself off and looked away.

Still, she appreciated the compliment. "What form does your patronus take?" she asked, curious.

Malfoy's face flushed red, and he didn't speak for minute. "Malfoy?" she asked again.

"I don't know," he finally said.

She furrowed her brow. "You don't know?"

He shook his head. "I've never produced a patronus."

"Really?"

"No." He looked embarrassed. "As far as I know, the Dark Mark inhibits the ability." He laid his hand over the sleeve of his shirt which covered the mark.

"I don't think it's that," said Hermione thoughtfully. "Professor Snape was able to cast a corporeal patronus and he had a Dark Mark."

"Really?" Draco asked with interest. "I didn't know that. What animal was his patronus?"

"A doe."

Malfoy looked confused. "A doe? That doesn't seem to fit him at all."

"It was the same patronus as Harry's mother, Lily."

Comprehension lit Malfoy's features. "Right. I'd almost forgotten about that."

After the battle of Hogwarts, Harry had wanted to vindicate Snape's name and had told everyone about his doomed love for Lily Evans and how he had been a traitor to Voldemort ever since. Apparently Draco had heard the story too.

"I can teach you how to cast a patronus, if you like," Hermione offered impulsively.

Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise "You would?"

"Sure," she said. "I found it difficult too. It's the one spell I've ever really had trouble with."

"That doesn't bode well for me," said Malfoy with a chuckle.

"I'm sure you can manage it," she answered, smiling.

They didn't have the time to try the patronus charm that night, but the next day, after Granger had taken care of Narcissa for the morning, she asked Milly to sit with the sick woman and followed Draco to the nearby sitting room. She sat next to him on the sofa, which surprised him, but he was far from objecting. This close to her he could smell the lilac scent in her hair. It was intoxicating to his senses, especially when he could see her curves and milky skin so close up. It took him a moment to realize she was giving him instructions.

"…best to think of a happy memory. The patronus comes from positive magic, so if you're focusing on a something happy it will come easier." She demonstrated the wand flick he was supposed to use. "Like this. Expecto patronum!" In the next second, a lithe silver otter burst from the tip of her wand and gamboled playfully about the room.

"It's beautiful," said Draco, appreciating the mischievous creature.

"Thank you," she was blushing with pleasure. Another twitch of her wand and it disappeared. "Now you try," she said.

Draco tried to think of what she'd said. A happy memory. He cast his mind back. Happy memory, happy memory…

Several minutes passed in silence as Granger waited. His mind was filled with images of his father, scolding and disciplining him with a cane; of fellow Slytherins sucking up to him for attention; of being forced to watch helpless muggles being tortured and killed. He couldn't think of a single happy memory in the entirety of his miserable life.

"Malfoy?" said Granger softly.

He looked over at her.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I've just realized I don't have a single happy memory."

Granger's eyes softened and she looked at him with compassion. "What about with your mother? Don't you have any good memories with her?"

He cast his mind back to when he was very young, before his father separated him from his mother on the excuse that she would make him "soft."

"I remember when she took me to pick apples once," he said softly.

"Apples?" she asked gently.

"Yeah. It was when I was three. Maybe the first memory I have. She took me to pick apples on a friend's estate. We brought the apples back to the cook at Malfoy Manor and had apple pudding that night."

"That sounds wonderful. Try that."

Draco closed his eyes and tried to picture it. The memory was muddled and no longer sharp, since it had been so long ago; but he did his best to envision the tall trees, his mother lifting him up so he could pluck the apple himself from the branch; of taking a bite of the fresh succulent fruit.

"Expecto patronum!" he said, and flicked his wand.

He opened his eyes to look, but nothing had happened. Not even a silvery vapor came from his wand. He was inexplicably disappointed.

"It's all right. We can keep working on it," said Granger, evidently sensing his feelings. "It's a very difficult spell. It took me a long time to master it."

He tried to smile. "Then I'm sure it will be even longer for me. You always did beat me at every subject, Granger."

She beamed at him.

That afternoon Narcissa woke again. She had been waking at more regular intervals but still had not been able to say anything beyond Draco's name. This afternoon, when she woke, Draco immediately dropped his work and came into the bedroom when Granger called him.

"Mother, how are you feeling?" he asked, taking her hand. He noticed that she tried to exert pressure to squeeze his hand back and was encouraged.

He was encouraged even further when she spoke a full sentence.

"Draco, how long have I been here?"

"It's been five days since I took you home," he said, careful not to mention Azkaban. Granger had said she would probably be traumatized by the memory of the place. "Granger says you're doing better. You're going to recover, Mother, and be happy and healthy again."

She gave a small smile. "As long as you're happy, Draco," she said in a faint voice. "That's all that matters."

He squeezed her hand. "I am happy. I'm happy to have you home at last," he said.

Narcissa looked over to where Granger stood, attempting to give them privacy. "Miss Granger?" she said. Her voice was almost a whisper.

Granger came forward with a smile. "Mrs. Malfoy. How are you feeling?"

"Very tired," she replied. "Draco has told me that you're taking care of me. I can't thank you enough."

"It was my joy to do it, ma'am," Granger said. "Healing is a privilege not to be taken for granted."

Narcissa smiled again. Draco could tell she was growing weary. "Sleep, Mother," he said. "We have all the time in the world to talk now that you're getting better."