TW: Domestic violence. This story will deal with domestic violence. There will be NO graphic depictions of violence in this story, but domestic violence IS a part of this story, as is learning to feel safe in the aftermath of domestic violence. If this is a sensitive subject for you, I urge you not to read this. Please take care of yourself.
TW: Alcohol abuse. This story makes reference to alcoholism as well as someone who is a very angry drunk. If this is a sensitive subject for you, I urge you not to read this.
Please see the Author's Note at the end of Chapter One for more information.
Manhattan
Chapter One
For all intents and purposes, today is a normal Tuesday– or, at least, that's what Draco Malfoy thinks as he walks toward his usual coffee shop. It's still early, and he should have plenty of time to get his coffee and still make it to work on time. Should, being the operative word.
What Draco absolutely does not account for in his schedule is crashing– literally– into Hermione Granger. Hermione Granger, who has been all but considered to be a missing person for the last eight months. Draco doesn't even live in England anymore, and even he knows that.
Granger seems to recognize Draco at the exact moment that he recognizes her, and her eyes widen in what Draco can only describe as fear. Draco is well-aware of his sordid history with this particular witch, but fear seems a bit excessive. It has been nearly five years since the end of the War, after all.
"Granger?" Draco asks, incredulously.
Draco watches as Granger's eyes dart from left to right, and she seems at war with herself before she launches at him. Her hand claps over his mouth as she shoves him back into an alley hidden from the view of the street and up against a brick wall.
It's at this time that Draco takes note of what Granger is wearing. She's wearing a gray hooded sweatshirt, with the hood pulled up over her still-bushy curls, a brown leather jacket and a pair of dark Muggle denims. She certainly has the look of someone in hiding, which strikes Draco as a bit strange.
"Malfoy?!" Granger whispers, harshly– almost as if she wants to shout but doesn't want to raise her voice, lest she be noticed.
Draco nods and rolls his eyes, unable to speak with her hand still covering his mouth. It occurs to Draco that this is probably only the second time he's ever touched Hermione Granger. At least she's not breaking his nose this time.
"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" she demands, stepping back and drawing her wand, despite being in the center of Manhattan during the morning commute. She does keep it down by her side and out of view, but still, it strikes Draco as slightly reckless.
Draco crosses his arms over his chest.
"What are you doing here?" Draco responds, stepping forward to loom over the witch in front of him. "You're the missing person here, not me."
Draco notices that look of fear flicker across her features again. She bites her lip, and her fingers twitch against the wood of her wand.
"I'm not a missing person," Granger retorts, lowering her voice again. "The Ministry and Harry know where I am. Your turn."
Granger stares defiantly up at Draco, and until now, he's never realized how incredibly small she is. She's a formidable witch, but tiny. The top of her head barely comes to his shoulders.
"I live here," Draco responds. Despite how bizarre this situation is, Draco doesn't inherently trust this particular witch. Sure, Hermione Granger fought for the Light in the Second Wizarding War, but Draco decidedly didn't.
Draco had attempted to make amends with Potter and Granger both after his trial following the War. It's because of their testimonies that Draco was spared Azkaban– of this, he is sure. He apologized in writing to both war heroes, and both of them responded with clipped responses. You didn't deserve Azkaban, but that doesn't mean we forgive you for trying to kill us, essentially. Potter did acknowledge that Draco bought them time when he refused to identify them at the Manor, and thanked him for that, but Granger made no such comments. To be fair, she was the one who was tortured during their time at the Manor, so it stands to reason that she would be less forgiving.
What mattered to Draco was that he had tried. He apologized, thanked the two for their testimonies, and then promptly applied for an Auror position with the MACUSA. He left England as soon as his year of court-appointed house arrest was completed.
"Oh," Granger frowns, slipping her wand back into her boot before settling her hands on her hips. "All of Manhattan and I had to run into you today."
Draco scoffs. As if he wanted to run into her either.
"Can I ask you to forget that you saw me today or do I have to Obliviate you?" Granger asks, although it doesn't sound like a question to Draco.
Obliviate him? What the hell is this witch into that she would need to Obliviate him just for running into her in the street? Draco decides that he doesn't really care enough to get the answer to that question.
"It would be my pleasure to forget seeing you," Draco sneers, frustrated that such a blast from the past has ruined his morning.
Granger actually seems relieved by Draco's words. What a strange turn of events.
"Good. Thank you, Malfoy."
Thank you, Malfoy. Those words echo in Draco's head for the rest of the week. He's nearly positive that Hermione Granger has never thanked him for anything a day in her life. Granted, he's never given her a reason to, but that's neither here nor there.
It didn't help that Granger had practically run off immediately after saying such words. She thanked Draco, and then ran– literally ran– off, leaving Draco in the alley, looking as if he'd been Stupefied.
Draco decides on Friday that it's high time he pays a visit to his mother. Such a decision has absolutely nothing to do with also sourcing old issues of the Prophet to figure out what exactly happened with Hermione Granger before she disappeared eight months ago– and then reappeared in the States a week ago– thankyouverymuch.
Draco hadn't really kept up with the news of his old classmates after his move to the States. If he's being honest, he just wanted to put everything behind him and move on. He chose to move to the States because nobody would know him there– the Malfoy name wouldn't hang like a noose around his neck there.
It had worked, even. Draco has made friends, dated a couple of different witches–and a Muggle woman he met at a bar once– and overall, has kept his head down. After living with a madman and nearly dying in a War at seventeen, Draco just wanted to live a quiet life, and he'd succeeded in that until Tuesday.
"Oh! My Dragon!" Draco's mother, Narcissa Malfoy, smiles, greeting her son when he steps through the floo in the parlor of Malfoy Manor.
Why his mother insists on continuing to live in Wiltshire, Draco will never understand. With his father in Azkaban, and himself in the States, it just seems an awfully large home for Narcissa alone, even with the elves.
Narcissa wraps her son up in a hug, and Draco hugs her back. He does miss his mother when he's away for this long.
"Hello, Mother," Draco states, the corners of his lips turning up slightly.
Narcissa steps back and eyes her son.
"You look well," Narcissa states, a small, elegant smile stretching her lips.
Draco nods. His mother does this every time he comes home. She looks him over as if she's surprised that he's kept himself alive for four years on his own. Draco might be offended by this if he wasn't so proud of himself for it. Having been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, it did take some getting used to when Draco had to learn to prepare his own meals and manage his own home, but over four years, he's become comfortable in the life he has.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of having my son on the same continent as me? It's not my birthday," Narcissa smirks, patting Draco's cheek gently.
Draco laughs lightly.
"Can I not just visit my mother?" Draco asks, attempting to hide the fact that there is a secondary reason for his visit. The primary of the two is to visit his mother, anyway.
Narcissa crosses her arms over her chest, in a move that Draco doesn't often see on his mother. She raises one perfectly arched eyebrow at her son.
"You can, of course, but you don't."
Draco scoffs playfully, shaking his head.
"Do you plan to continue to interrogate me on my motivations, or will you allow your son to escort you to dinner?" Draco asks, knowing that his mother will never pass up an opportunity to spend time with him, and offers his arm to her.
Narcissa responds with a classic Malfoy smirk, but takes Draco's arm all the same.
"Draco?" a pretty, petite, brunette witch asks as she walks into her office at the Daily Prophet and takes a seat at her desk. Draco is already seated across from her. "I must say, when my editor told me that I had a visitor, I wasn't expecting you."
Astoria Greengrass writes the society columns for the Daily Prophet. She's also Draco's former fiancée. Former because neither of the two actually wanted to get married. It had been a deal that was set up by both of their parents when the two were far too young to understand the implications of marriage. However, to Draco's immense joy, the Greengrasses backed out of the contract when Draco was standing trial for war crimes. Astoria's father, Mr. Greengrass, had decided that he didn't want to marry his youngest daughter off to a war criminal, apparently.
In any case, Draco was not upset by the dissolution of his betrothal. He would never have been able to move to the States if he had married Astoria. Nor would he have been able to get out of that high-society life that his mother had planned for him. Endless banquets and balls are not exactly Draco's idea of a good time.
"Yes, well, I'm visiting my mother for the weekend," Draco responds, meeting the younger witch's eye. "I actually came to ask a favor."
Astoria raises an eyebrow.
Draco recognizes that he and this witch are not particularly close. They've known each other since they were children, and were, in fact, betrothed at one point, but they are decidedly not close. There's no animosity– at least, not on Draco's side– but they're just not friends.
"Well, what can I do for you?" Astoria asks, scrunching her eyebrows together as if confused.
"Would you be able to source older issues of the Prophet for me?" Draco asks, attempting to hide his reason for asking.
Before Draco came to Astoria, he had considered visiting Pansy Parkinson. Pansy is a known gossip and would likely know whatever happened to Hermione Granger, but the fear in the curly-haired witch's eyes gave him pause. She had been genuinely scared that Draco would tell someone that he saw her. Because of that, Draco had decided that he would look into her disappearance, but that he would keep his investigation as discreet as possible.
Astoria smirks, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs.
"Ah, so you're here on official business?" she laughs, drumming her manicured fingers against her armrest. "I should've guessed."
"Not technically. It's not official Auror business– just research."
Astoria nods, but continues to smirk, as if she doesn't believe Draco for a moment.
"How far back do you need to go?"
Draco thinks for a moment. He doesn't want to be too obvious, but he also recognizes that he probably doesn't need issues from more than a year ago, or less than a few months ago.
"Seven to nine months ago should do."
Astoria quickly jots something down on a blank piece of parchment on her desk– presumably, Draco's request.
"Alright," Astoria agrees. "Wait here for a moment. I'll go down to the archive rooms and make copies."
Draco leaves Astoria Greengrass' office with a stack of back-issues of the Prophet that he's shrunk down to fit into his trouser pocket.
It occurs to Draco as he's walking through Diagon how odd it is that he feels so compelled to investigate the disappearance (and subsequent, albeit clearly secretive, reappearance) of a witch that he doesn't even particularly like.
Hermione Granger is, or was, a witch that always drove Draco a bit batty– mostly because of her blood status. Draco's father had ingrained in him that being Pureblood inherently made him superior to others who were not Pureblood. Hermione Granger had challenged this view long before Draco even realized that that was what was happening. It boggled Draco's mind that a witch that was inferior to him could beat him in marks every year.
And then she was tortured right in front of him, and that, if nothing else, proved to Draco that Hermione Granger deserved his respect, regardless of her blood status. Draco no longer subscribes to the ideals of Pureblood supremacy, but even if he still did, Granger endured literal torture and did not break. Her screams still echo in his nightmares, but she didn't break. Her strength, if nothing else, is admirable.
Draco uses this as his rationale for investigating her disappearance. Something that brings fear to the eyes of Hermione Granger, bodes ill for all.
Hello, friends! I'm back! For those unaware, I have been 'on vacation' for almost a month. It was great, I had a wonderful time, but I am immensely glad to be home and back to normal.
So, welcome, friends, to Manhattan. I do have some things I want to discuss first before we get into this story, so please allow me a moment.
First things first, this story does make reference to domestic violence as well as alcoholism and alcohol abuse. I have included a trigger warning in the beginning because the absolute last thing that I want to do is trigger someone. I have personal experience in these areas and I absolutely am not in the business of bringing others pain via my writing. I absolutely understand if this story is not for you.
However, I want to make it clear that there will be NO graphic depictions of violence in this story. This story is what happens in the aftermath of a violent occurrence. This story is a story of learning how to feel safe in the aftermath of domestic violence.
I want to reiterate that. This is the story of the AFTERMATH of domestic violence. I will not be accepting ANY negative comments on how this person feels and reacts in this situation. I ask that you please remember that everyone is different and that everyone handles situations differently- and sometimes not in the ways that we might expect that person to react.
That being said, this story does not focus on domestic violence. It is the reason that we have a story, but the story is about growth, really, and I wrote it in such a way that I hoped would not be triggering to any survivors.
In other news, this story is completely finished and I intend to upload once a week, on Tuesdays, just as I did with Worth the Wait at first. I wanted to get this first chapter out today just as a gift because I've missed uploading so much. There are eighteen chapters and one epilogue and the pacing is similar to my other Dramione, Worth the Wait.
Manhattan is a project of love for me and I wanted this fic to be healing (mostly for me, but if it helps someone else, I would be so pleased) and enjoyable to read. This fic is rather light, without making light of the serious topic which surrounds it. It's funny and heartwarming, but also raw in some places, but I wanted this fic to be an easy read while still being an important story to tell.
Because of that, I picked all of my favorite tropes and stuck them in here, lol. Or at least most of them. Manhattan has forced proximity, enemies to lovers, Beauty and the Beast vibes (it's not a retelling, just vibes), among others. This fic was an absolute joy to write and I truly hope it will be enjoyable to read as well.
Whew. That was a long Author's Note. I apologize, but I truly do think it was important to get all of that information out there right from the get.
If you're still here, thank you so much. I appreciate your support more than you know.
As always, thank you for reading, and welcome to Manhattan.