April 24th, 2003
Hermione's POV
In the days following the trial, Hermione received three Howlers from Molly Weasley and just as many letters of apology from Arthur. She had refused to respond to Molly but had written back to the Weasley Patriarch to convey her gratitude and sorrow. Hermione had refused to apologize for her part in putting Ron in Azkaban, but that didn't mean she wasn't sad about the fact that it had to happen in the first place. She also explained that she knew of Molly's struggles since the war but wouldn't be a part of a narrative that celebrated victim blaming. She thanked him for reaching out and for his attempts to apologize for his wife's behavior.
"Granger?" Draco's voice floated from their bedroom doorway.
"In here," Hermione responded while marking the spot in her current read.
"I'm preparing the food for tonight. Is there anything in particular the troublesome trio is craving today?" Draco had made it his mission to wait on her hand and foot when he was home. Bubble baths in the evening accompanied with foot rubs and treats to feed her insatiable cravings.
"Coffee."
"Coffee?" he asks slowly.
"Yes. I am craving a dessert that tastes like coffee."
"Right. One coffee dessert is coming up. Theo and Charlie owled, and they will be over soon. I imagine the others won't be far behind. Do you need help with anything?" Draco asks.
They had finally decided to share the news of their pregnancy with the rest of the group. Pansy, of course, already knew, which meant Neville was also aware, but they hadn't told anyone else in their friend group. Hermione was missing her friends, so they had decided on a simple get-together at their home that evening.
"No. I'll get ready and be downstairs soon," Hermione responds before going to their shared closet. Together, they packed the belongings in her flat and moved them into Draco's. They'd stored the multitude of boxes in a spare bedroom so she could unpack when she was ready.
Throwing on jeans and a lavender knit jumper, Hermione made her way downstairs. The smell of Draco's cooking drew her to the kitchen, where he was assembling a large charcuterie board of roasted meats, homemade bread, fruits, vegetables, and assorted sweets.
"Merlin, I am starving. I will be as big as a house by the time our children are born." Hermione says while lathering up a warm slice of bread with butter.
"Children?!" Hermione drops her food at the sound of Theo's shocked voice.
"Uhm- surprise?" She says while shrugging her shoulders. In the next moment, she's gathered in Theo's arms, and he nearly squeezes the life out of her.
"Wait. Did you say, children? As in multiple?" Theo asks, his brown eyes sparkling with a mixture of mischief and joy.
"Three, to be exact." Hermione answers as Theo's infectious happiness warms her heart, chasing away the last vestiges of surprise. They had planned on telling the group as a whole, but she hadn't heard the Floo go off when she'd made her statement to Draco.
"Don't hog the pregnant lady, Theo," Charlie says as his tall, bulky frame gently shoves Theo to the side so he can pull her into a bear hug. Her feet lift off the ground for just a moment before she feels herself settle back down.
"Draco Malfoy, you sly dog. A ring would have sufficed, but I will definitely get more enjoyment from three little swots running around."
Hermione chuckles as Draco shoots a heated glare at his old friend. "Was that your plan all along, Darling? Knock me up so I'd stay forever? Theo is right; a ring would have done the job just as well." Hermione teases the scowling blonde as she lovingly caresses her belly.
"I am positive that was a proposal, but pregnant ladies don't get down on their knees, so you'll have to take it as it is, Draco."
"Oh, I think they do, Theo." Draco settles his most salacious grin on Hermione, instantly sending bursts of heat through her core and flashing memories from the night before through her mind.
Draco looks down at her as he grips her chin, his warm length sliding over her lips as he provides words of praise and admiration.
"Blood hell, Hermione. Take me so well."
The look Draco gives her now tells her he knows exactly where her thoughts have taken her, and he loves it.
"Save the bedroom eyes and proposals for later, you two. Wait! Does Red know that we're expecting?" Draco's eye twitches, but Hermione loves that Theo includes himself in their pregnancy without hesitation. Theo accepted and loved his close friends fiercely. Whatever journey they were on, he was on it too.
"We were planning on telling everyone today. You just happened to walk in at an inopportune moment." Draco responds as he prepares a cup of tea for Hermione, just as she likes it.
"Well, Pansy knows, so we assume Neville does as well," Hermione adds as she takes the offered cup.
Theo waves his hand in dismissal. "Pansy knows everything. I swear she has seer blood somewhere. Red, however, will be livid I found out before her. This is going to be great." Theo claps his hands in excitement as the sound of the Floo roaring to life alerts them to the arrival of more of their guests.
"Just the witch I was hoping to see." Ginny looks at Theo warily as he pulls her to his side.
"Why is Theo being weird?" Ginny asks as she turns her gaze to Charlie, Draco, and Hermione.
"A bit too much Pepper Up," Hermione responds easily. "Is Harry with you?" she asks as she looks around her friend, trying to spot the mop of messy black hair.
"Summons from the Department of Mysteries. He'll be here soon, I expect." Ginny responds as she steps away from Theo and hugs Hermione, then Charlie.
"How's things in Romania?" Ginny asks her second eldest brother.
"Things are good. We're having some issues with funding right now, but that isn't surprising. We've had an influx of rescues recently, and they are using up quite a bit of our resources." Charlie explains as the group moves towards the dining area. Draco's large platter of prepared food floats easily behind them before settling in the middle of the table.
"Does the sanctuary not have regular donors contributing to regular operations?" Hermione questions as she prepares a plate for herself.
"It does, but we're burning through our reserves fairly quickly. We don't normally have this many rescues that require care at once." Charlie explains. The Floo flairs to life again as Pansy and Neville step through the green flames, one after the other.
"Can you not ask for more donations?" Ginny questions.
"Excellent question, Red. Can you not ask for more donations, Darling?" Theo quips, giving Charlie a wide-eyed look.
"We have sent letters to our regular donors, and we'll see what we can achieve with that." In return, Charlie gives Theo a stern look, communicating something the rest of the group obviously isn't privy to.
"I have offered unlimited funding for the sanctuary, but a stubborn Weasley refuses to accept the galleons. Even though it's our money."
"Can we not have this discussion again, Theo? I love you for offering, but someday, we won't be a part of the sanctuary, and it will have to stand on its own. A steady stream of investors is necessary for the longevity of the project. It has to have outside support."
"We have enough galleons to keep the reserve running for three lifetimes."
"The answer is no, Love. The reserve will be fine without your mountains of gold."
"What about a gala to draw in new investors? We could invite the press to garner extra attention." Hermione suggests that this could help alleviate some of the mounting tension.
Theo's eyes light up at the suggestion. "This is why I love you, Hermione. A gala is an excellent suggestion, and if you don't use our galleons for the reservation, you will be using them to throw a lavish party." Charlie scratches his stubbled jaw as he tosses the idea around.
"I suppose that is a good idea. The press never really reports on our activities, so it could also remind the community of the good we are doing." Charlie admits.
"It's settled! I think two weeks is enough time for Daphne to plan the event. A bit short notice, but she's a wonder at these things." Theo gushes as the prospect of the gala takes hold.
"Greengrass?" Hermione asks, knowing of no other Daphne but wanting to confirm.
"Yes. She runs a very successful event-planning business. Her family disowned her a few years ago because she married a muggle." Pansy jumps in to explain.
"Oh, I hadn't heard." Hermione mumbles as she pins that bit of news to process later. Astoria and Daphne couldn't be any more different. Astoria is incredibly vapid, judgmental, and elitist, but Daphne most likely wouldn't be any of those things if she married a Muggle.
"So, there was a reason we invited you all here, and it wasn't just for the pleasantry of your company. I thought we could wait for Potter, but it seems he's going to be hung up with DOM. Do you mind if we share the news, Love?" Draco asks as he takes her hand, which sits atop the table.
"Go ahead. We can catch Harry up later." She relents despite wishing he could be here. After all, timing isn't really the most important thing.
A look of immense pride shines in Draco's eyes, and a gleaming smile stretches his lips, revealing a slight dimple as he delivers the news to the friends: "Hermione and I are expecting." Sure, Hermione could have delivered the news this time, but she loved the rush of warmth from hearing the emotion in Draco's voice every time he said it.
Ginny, the only person at the table unaware of the news at this point, had the most shocked reaction. Clapping her hands over her face, she squeaked in delight.
"Hey, Red. Three." Theo says with a smug smirk while sipping his wine.
"Three what?" Ginny asks in confusion.
"Babies?" A shit-eating grin is plastered on Theo's face, and Hermione can only shake her head in response.
"Behave yourself, Theo," Draco warns with a semi-stern command.
"Wait. Three babies? How does Theo know already?"
"I knew first." Pansy cuts in with a tip of her wineglass towards the rest of the tables occupants.
"Does everyone know before me?" Ginny shrieks as her face turns red.
"Harry doesn't." Hermione comments in an attempt to calm Ginny.
"Great. I found out before the workaholic. I can't believe you told Theo before me. Also, three babies! Do you think you can handle that, Ferrett?" Ginny's eyes alight with mischief, no doubt imagining Draco trying to wrangle three curly-headed toddlers.
"I look forward to it, Ginerva," Draco readily responds as he places a warm hand over her belly—an action he'd taken to doing at every available opportunity. "What did Potter say he was doing at the DOM?" Draco asks as he checks his wristwatch.
"I'm not sure. He received an owl as we were getting ready to head over here. Something about an issue at the DOM, but he will join us shortly." Ginny shifts slightly in her seat as she answers Draco's question. "Why do you ask?"
"I was only wondering if something had been found with the case. I think I'll pop over and check on things. Do you need anything before I go, Love?" A niggling feeling tugs at Hermione's stomach, but she shoves it down, not wanting to worry Ginny with unfounded concerns.
"I'll be fine. Just call or send an owl if you're going to be a while, please." Hermione asks as she stands to meet his lips in a quick kiss.
"I will. I expect you all to care for my witch in my absence." Hermine rolls her eyes at Draco's demand of the group. "Oh, and Granger, there's a coffee-flavored surprise warming on the stove when you're ready." Hermione waves Draco off so he can make sure Harry is okay. Draco's concern is that Hermione is not at the top of her list of priorities. That isn't to say she didn't appreciate the affection, but the feeling in her gut wouldn't cease until she knew Harry was okay.
Draco's POV
Draco stepped through his office Floo connection at the DMLE and quickly made his way to Potter's office, thinking he might as well check there before he made the trek to the Department of Mysteries. Maybe Potter was hung up on paperwork, and that's why he was held up.
After finding the designated Head Auror office empty, Draco turned from the office and directed his focus to the lifts that would take him to the DOM; he kept a swift pace but not so fast as to garner attention.
Draco stepped up to the entrance of the Department of Mysteries and rapped his knuckles against the door quickly.
"Name?" A faceless wizard with a deep voice asks from the other side of the door.
"Auror Malfoy," Draco responds evenly.
"Purpose for your visit?"
"Auror Potter was summoned here well over an hour ago, and his wife expected him some time ago. I believe he is here regarding the case we are working on. May I enter to ensure he is okay?" Draco asks evenly despite the urgency he feels to find Potter.
A minute passes with no response, and Draco starts to wonder if the wizard on the other side of the door intended to leave him there with no answer. Thankfully, a few moments later, the voice is back.
"You may enter." The voice responds, followed by the thick door admitting Draco's entry.
Draco steps through the open space and follows the dark-robed stranger through the maze of halls that serve the DOM. He finds it amazing that the department's witches and wizards don't get lost on a daily basis. When they finally stop at a door that Draco counts as seven levels below the department entrance, the stranger motions toward the entrance without making a sound.
"Will you not be following me in?" Draco asks uncertainly, completely expecting to be watched like a hawk. The figure only motions towards the door again and takes a step back.
"Right. I'll only be a moment, I expect." Draco says as he pushes the heavy metal door open.
Draco is surrounded by a silence so loud it makes his eardrums ache. His booted feet fall softly against the floor, floating blue flames lighting a dim path toward the center of the room, where an empty table sits.
"Curious," Draco comments as he makes a slow path around the slab of wood. As he nearly completes his circumference, something connects with his boot and rolls across the floor. Casting a Lumos to provide more light, Draco bends to search for the mysterious item.
Dread settles deep in Draco's gut as his hands wrap around the smooth, dark wood of a wand he'd recognize anywhere.
"Fuck." Draco mutters as he lets his chin drop to his chest for a moment. "Goddamn it Potter." He growls as he stands to his full height and turns to make a swift exit.
The masked figure stands silently in the hall as Draco exits the room. "What was held in this room?" He asks with forced calm.
He's again met with maddening silence from the cloaked stranger. "I am asking you as an Auror of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. If you continue to choose not to answer me, I will be forced to take you in for questioning. Now, what was kept in this room?" Draco asks as he uses the full advantage of his height to loom over the DOM employee.
"Horcruxes." The faceless man responds before he tries to scurry away. Draco slams his arm against the wall to halt any further movement. "Not so fast. I have a few more questions."
Draco receives a hurried nod in response.
Good, he thinks to himself. He really did not try to avoid the use of fear as a motivator, but when it came down to it, he knew it was a tool he was excellent at yielding.
"When was the last time Auror Potter was seen?"
"I don't have that information." The unhelpful response makes Draco grit his teeth in irritation.
"Why was Auror Potter summoned to the DOM in the first place?"
"The wards for this room were triggered."
"Okay. Where is the employee that brought him down here?"
"I don't have that information."
"For a department charged with figuring mysteries out, you are bloody terrible at it. What can you tell me about Auror Potter's visit?" Draco's last vestiges of patience hang by a thread that quickly unravels at every non-answer he pulls from the man.
"Auror Potter arrived shortly after the Wards were triggered. Upon his arrival, he was escorted to the room to investigate, where we were instructed to leave him to his investigation."
"Who made the order?" Draco takes a small step forward, and he's nearly chest-to-chest with the man.
"I don't have that information. Orders come down, and we follow them."
"Bloody hell. Get the fuck out of my sight." Draco curses as he yet again comes away with little to no information, which seems to be a running theme in this case. Dolohov was very good at covering his tracks; Draco would give him that.
"I have to escort you out, Auror Malfoy." Despite the voice being disguised, it still came across as slightly meek.
"So now you want to do your job? Fine. We're done here anyway." Draco stalks ahead, refusing to follow behind the imbecile for a moment longer.
Hermione's POV
Ring
Ring
Ring
The obnoxious blaring of the telephone pulls Hermione from her conversation with Theo and Pansy.
"One moment. That must be Draco." Hermione says as she rushes to catch the call. "Draco?"
"Hey, Love. I'm going to be out a little later than I expected. Will you keep Ginerva there a bit longer?" Hermione's senses instantly kick into overdrive at Draco's unusual request.
"Draco, what happened? I know something is wrong." She whispers into the receiver, not wanting anyone to overhear the conversation.
The sound of Draco's breath comes through the line a few times before he answers. "Just keep Ginevra busy, Hermione. I'll call as soon as I can." The sound of the line clicking is the only indication she receives that the conversation is over.
"Draco Bloody Malfoy!" she exclaims as she slams the headset onto the receiver. She turns to see Ginny watching her from her seat next to Charlie at the dining table. Hermione plasters a fake smile on her face and offers Ginny a small wave.
"Hey Gin! I could use your help with something upstairs if you have a moment?" Hermione asks while frantically trying to think up an excuse for needing Ginny's help.
"Of course." Ginny agrees easily as she follows Hermione up the steps. "Did Malfoy find Harry okay?"
Fuck. Of course, she'd ask that right away.
"The line dropped before he could say. I'm sure everything is okay, though." Hermoine tries for nonchalance as she leads Ginny to the bedroom next to hers and Draco's.
"I was thinking about starting on the nursery design for this room. I'm debating between midnight blue with constellations adorning the ceilings or sage green and a forest theme. What are your thoughts?" Hermione asks as she shoves her hands into her jeans pocket, hoping she comes off as more relaxed than she feels.
A tapping from her bedroom draws Hermione's attention, and she races towards the noise in hopes that it's Draco with good news. A large owl with onyx feathers and copper eyes waits on the windowsill with a small scroll.
After quickly tossing the owl a treat, Hermione unfurls the parchment.
Will the undying man finally fall?
Three unborn await their intended fate.
One Mudblood and a Prince of Snakes, a choice they have to make.
Which one will it be?
Boiling fury races through Hermione's veins at the apparent threat to her children. With a flick of her wand, she conjures her otter Patronus to send a summons to Draco.
"Come home now." Hermione whispers fiercely to the otter before it vanishes in a swirl of silver vapor.
"Hermione, what's going on?" Ginny asks from the doorway. Hermione turns to see worry etched on her friend's face.
"I don't know, Gin," she answers after a moment's hesitation. She doesn't want to betray Draco, but she doesn't want to lie either. The unknown threat is shaking the balance of her equilibrium.
"Hermione? Where are you?" Draco's frantic voice carries from down the stairs.
"In the bedroom," Hermione yells back, wringing her hands as she processes the rapidly changing events.
Draco barges through the doorway and past Ginny. He quickly runs his hands over Hermione's arms, and his eyes hunt for signs of injury on her person. "What happened?" he finally asks after seeing for himself that she isn't injured physically.
Hermione hands over the letter and begins to pace as Draco races through the short missive. The only sign he gives that he's read the letter is a rapid clenching and unclenching of his fists and a hardening of his jaw.
"When did this arrive?" He grits out.
"Just a few minutes ago. Does it mean what I think it does?" Her heart clenches as Draco gives a clipped nod.
"How?"
"I'm not sure yet. I was in the middle of alerting the Minister when I received your Patronus." Draco explains sharply.
"Will someone please explain what the fuck is going on? Where is Harry?" Ginny's voice is hard as steel as she demands answers; her ordinarily pale, freckled skin takes on a red hue.
Draco hesitates for a moment before he pulls a wand from his pocket and hands it to Ginny. "That's Harry's wand. What are you doing with Harry's wand, Draco?" Ginny using his first name instead of Malfoy or Ferrett shows just how serious the situation is.
"I found it in a room on the seventh floor of the Department of Mysteries. There are no signs of a struggle, and no other evidence was left. This letter tells me exactly who has him, though." Draco hands the slightly crumpled parchment over to Ginny to read.
"It's Dolohov, isn't it?" Ginny asks after a brief pause.
"I believe so. It's more refined than I would expect from him, but the intent is the same. It's a trade, Potter for Hermione and our babies."
Hermione wraps her hands protectively over her abdomen as Draco and Ginny discuss theories and aspects of the case. Ginny exudes a calm that Hermione herself doesn't think she'd be able to maintain if their roles were reversed and Draco was missing. She thinks Ginny has spent so much time around Harry that she's picked up his ability to compartmentalize in an emergency.
The cold, hard truth of the matter is that she would never trade her children's lives for Harry. This only serves to boost her determination to find another way to save her friend. There will be no bold Gryffindor sacrifices today or anytime soon.
"What about the gala?" Hermione asks as an idea begins to form.
"What about it?" Draco asks in confusion as he turns to face her.
"What if we use it to draw Dolohov out? Advertise that the Golden Girl will be in attendance- "
"Not happening." Draco cuts her off with a firm dismissal of her idea.
"Just listen, Draco. I have zero intention of letting that psychopath get his hands on me or our children. This will be a planned event that we can publicize throughout Wizarding Britain. I will not leave your side on the day of the event, and we can add extra Auror security."
"Fuck. I don't like it, Granger." His use of her surname showed just how agitated he was. "But it's our best shot. There will be many, many ground rules, though." Sadness swells in her chest for the load that Draco is forced to carry. The success and failure of finding a highly elusive dark wizard, keeping those he loves safe, and managing his own expectations of himself are becoming a load that might be too much even for him to carry.
"Let's go talk to the others; it sounds like it's going to be a late night," Hermione says while taking Draco's hand and leading him down the stairs with a silent Ginny in tow.
With the beginnings of a plan in place, they join the rest of the group to break the news of Harry's disappearance and their idea for the gala. Theo and Charlie were entirely on board with the party serving as a dual purpose, even going so far as to suggest moving the date up a week. It would be short notice, but with all hands on deck, they would be able to pull everything together.
"I'll owl Daphne in the morning so we can get the word out. It's time we take the fucker down once and for all." Theo proclaims as he pulls Hermione in for a final hug goodbye.
"That's right. Nobody threatens our baby snakes and gets away with it." Pansy smirks as she gives Theo a high five.
"Get some rest, Hermione. These guys are going to need their mum in peak fighting form," Charlie says as he softly pecks her cheek.
The last of their guests left through the Floo, and Hermione let herself fall apart. Every brick that she'd placed was built of fury and secured with a mother's protectiveness until she'd had a firm wall in place to keep her other emotions at bay while they'd created a strategy for ending this madness. Now that the witnesses were gone, she let her pain flow freely, knowing that Draco would be there to staunch the flood of her agony.
"Why does this keep happening? My whole bloody life has been a battle, and I'm fucking tired of it. When is it going to be over, Draco? What price do I need to pay for it to be enough?" The questions fall from her lips in a stream of anguish.
"Because at some point in time, it became okay to let evil men lead and for the rest to follow like mindless sheep. I will forever be sorry for the part I played in your pain Hermione, and I will do my very best to make damned sure you don't experience anymore in this life." Draco promises as he pulls her against him so she's cradled between his thighs, her back to his chest.
"I know Draco. There were a lot of things we were forced to do as children, but will you promise me something now?"
"Anything, Love." He breathes into her curls as his arms wrap securely over her chest.
"Make that fucker pay. I want him to know what it feels like to be powerless, to know that death is coming and there is nothing he can do to stop it. Draco Malfoy is the last face he will see, but my words will haunt him in whatever afterlife awaits a twisted soul like him."
"With pleasure. What words will I impart on him before it's done?" Draco questions as he runs his fingers through her hair. The gentleness of his touch is an abstract of the brutality of their conversation.
"Tell him I said it's time to burn."
"Can I ask what the sentiment is there?" Draco asks as he continues to trace his hands over her body, never breaking their connection.
"I made him a promise, and I kept it. Although I can't be there myself, I'll happily watch through your memories."
"Any other requests, Darling?"
"Yes. Take me to bed; make me forget for just a moment." Hermione asks and Draco readily agrees as he strips her bare and brings their bodies together in their familiar dance.
May 1st
Hermione's POV
Every day before the Gala, a scroll was delivered with a thinly veiled threat. The DMLE was working around the clock to try to sniff out Dolohov's location and prepare for the event. Kingsley had even called in the Head Auror of the Bulgarian Department of Magical Law Enforcement to aid in their efforts. Draco had come home particularly irritable the day the mysterious Auror arrived, going as far as to avoid talking about the person altogether. Hermione had pestered him for information, but he refused to talk about it, which she found rather odd.
Hermione rushed to the window in her towel as a quick tapping sound alerted her to the arrival of yet another letter.
Do you think she'll have curls like you, Mudblood? Will she cry the same way when she's in pain? I do love those sounds you make.
Despite the fact that he never signed his name, Dolohov's sick sense of humor made it obvious who the sender was. On top of the temporary Head Auror issues, the letters only compounded Draco's rage on a daily basis. His touch was always gentle, but his frustration and worries showed through his words as the gala drew closer.
"Pansy is going to stop by later. She's bringing a selection of dresses to choose from for the party." Hermione informs Draco as she sips her ginger tea. The morning sickness compounded with nerves had done nothing to help her nausea, but Draco had started making her ginger tea, which seemed to help.
"Good. You need a night to relax. Why don't you invite Ginerva over as well? She's about to drive me barmy with the number of owls I'm getting." Draco says as he flips through a report.
"Can you blame her? And I need a night to relax. What about you?"
"I do have empathy for her, but owling me every hour only distracts me from my job. I'll relax when this is over, and that bloody wanker is back in his own country." Draco grumbles.
"Will you please just tell me who it is? I could make a phone call and find out myself, but I'd really like to know why you are being so secretive." Hermione refuses to look away from the pouting blonde as he stares daggers at his report.
"It's Viktor Krum." Draco mumbles, but she doesn't quite catch what he says.
"I'm sorry, who?" Hermoine questions.
"Viktor sodding Krum." Draco says much louder as he tosses his report down, finally meeting her shocked stare with a stern look of his own.
Peals of laughter pass her lips before she can stop them. "Please tell me you're joking right now, Draco."
"This is not a laughing matter, Granger. The man thinks he knows everything; his accent is brutish, and the next time he says your name wrong, I might have to loosen a few of his teeth." Draco rants as he slams his palms on the table. "Will you stop laughing, witch? I finally tell you what is bothering me, and you can do nothing but giggle."
"I'm-I'm sorry, but it's-, It's so ridiculous." Hermione struggles to get the words out as she processes the reason Draco has been so out of sorts. "Draco Malfoy is jealous of a man that I haven't seen in years while I'm carrying three of his children."
"This is definitely not helping Granger, and I am not jealous. It is perfectly acceptable for me to want to pummel the man when he insists on calling you Hermy-own or revisits the one time he went to the Yule Ball with you."
"You're right. That's a perfectly acceptable response. I could always talk to him if you'd like," Hermione teases with a glint in her eye.
"That would be the opposite of helpful. If you'd like your former paramour to keep all of his fingers, I'd suggest you steer clear of him. Especially if you want to discuss the glory days as he insists on doing repeatedly."
"Draco," Hermione purrs as she walks to his side of the table. His normally infallible self-confidence is obviously shaken by the case and Viktor's presence. I know that you know I have no interest in any man except you. Please don't let this weigh on you. What can I do to help?"
Hermione watches as Draco pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a deep breath before speaking. "I'm sorry, Love. I'm being a bit of a possessive git, aren't I?"
"A bit, but I don't mind. At least you're self-aware enough to realize it. It can be sexy if done properly." Hermione says as she throws a leg over Draco's lap and runs her fingers over his pecks until they are linked behind his neck.
"Sexy? Let's try this then." He responds as he places featherlight kisses along the column of her neck.
"Tu es a moi"
"Ty moya"
"Ti si moi."
"Tu eres Mio."
"You are mine." His lips finally connect with hers in a slow building dance between lips, tongues, and breath until they are both left panting. "Blood hell, woman. If I weren't already late for work, I'd take you back to our room and show you exactly how possessive I can be. Unfortunately for both of us, I do have to go."
"You owe me one, Auror Malfoy."
"Yes, Love." Draco agreed and placed another kiss on her lips before helping her stand so he could start his day.
Draco's POV
"Are you ready for tonight?" Draco asks Cho Chang as they review the evening's protocol for what feels like the fiftieth time. "I know it's a lot, so if you are having any doubts, speak up now."
"None, Sir. I've been waiting for an opportunity like this, so thank you for thinking of me." Chang isn't a simpering woman, but she's also not a complete hardass, and that's part of what makes her such an easy Auror to work with and why she's perfect for the task ahead.
"I wouldn't have it any other way. I am going to get ready for the gala, but I'll see you there," Draco says as he checks the time on his wristwatch, calculating the time he'll need to get ready and be at the event on time.
Auror Chang waves him off as Draco leaves the conference room and heads towards his office. A brute of a man steps in his path, halting his forward movement completely.
"Malfoy, how is our Herm-own-ninny doing? I hear she stays with you for safety." Draco cringes internally at the insinuation just hurled his way. There is no doubt in his mind that Krum is fully aware of his relationship with Granger, but the oaf deliberately chooses to disregard it.
"Hermione is fine. I'd go so far as to say she's nearly euphoric with her living arrangements. The witch keeps me up all hours of the night, but I'd say it's a fair price to pay for what I'm getting in return." Draco leaves out the bit where he's usually up at odd hours, not because of the insane amount of sex he's having but because Hermione frequently gets morning sickness in the middle of the night, and the only thing to calm her nausea is a ginger tea blend he prepares for her.
"I'm sure Hermy-own-ninny vould still like a visit from an old friend."
"She's a bit preoccupied these days, but I'll be sure to pass the message along. Now kindly fuck off so I can go home." Draco cuts out as he shoulders past the Bulgarian brute without waiting for a response.
"Bloody wanker." Draco mumbles under his breath as he tosses a handful of powder into his private Floo.
Draco gives himself another quick once over, coiffing a few stray blonde hairs for good measure before he makes his way downstairs to meet his intended for the evening.
"Stunning. I'll have to beat every wizard in attendance off with a bat if that's the dress you intend on wearing." Draco teases as he appraises the way the silky fabric clings to Hermione's curves.
"Blame Pansy. This is the one she insists I wear." Draco has no doubt about the validity of this statement. Pansy was a force to be reckoned with, and it's not like he'd put up any arguments about the suit she had stuck him with, seeing how it was a match with Granger's.
"You both should thank me. I took precious time out of my day to make sure you captivated the hungry crowds at your first official outing as a couple. The society pages are going to eat this up."
"Fuck the society pages. I really couldn't care less about what they say." Draco flippantly responds as he steers Hermione towards the Floo.
"I know, but since I won't be in attendance this evening, I will have to live vicariously through you and get my fix through the papers."
"You know it's for the best Pans. Neville will be just as much of a target as Hermione and I, and keeping you both safe will spread the team thin."
"Yes, yes. I understand, but that doesn't mean I like it. Now, go. If you're late, Theo will never stop complaining." Pansy moves away from the Floo to allow Draco to lead Hermione through the flames.
Draco and Hermione are met with flashing bulbs and a cacophony of reporters vying for their attention the moment they are spotted leaving the Ministry Floo network, and he knows he has to let the vultures have their moment. It was imperative that word spread on their arrival this evening.
"Mr. Malfoy, over here!"
"Ms. Granger, how were you able to look past Mr. Malfoy's sordid past?"
"Give us a kiss for the camera!"
Draco is barely able to hold back a growl of irritation as he gently leads his date towards the Ministry ballroom. The glass dome ceiling is adorned with charmed dragons that flit about the open space in their varying shades of green, black, gray, and red. A large dance floor is sectioned off and surrounded by dining tables adorned with charcoal-colored linen. Other guests milled, chatting with acquaintances and indulging in the offered food and beverages.
"Draco!" Theo calls out as he approaches, the Essex green faux scales of his suit shimmering as it catches the light.
"Is everything in place?" Draco discreetly questions.
"All set," Theo confirms before turning towards the stunning brunette at Draco's side. A form-fitting ombre dress in a swirl of smokey gray and snowy white adorned with silver dragons that wrap from hip to chest. Realistic dragon scales reflect the sparkling lights above.
"The theme for the evening turned out well, I'd say. Dragons. Very clever." Hermione compliments as her eyes flit around the room.
"Daphne is a wonder. We couldn't have done it without her and everyone else pitching in." Theo agrees. "I'm going to see what I can do about securing a few donors from our other guests. Let me know if you need anything."
"Well, Granger, shall we give the people what they want and dust off our dancing does?" The humor in Draco's tone helps to disguise the ferocity he feels inside. His eyes shift carefully around the room in a way that, to an untrained eye, would seem lazy, almost bored, but to those who knew, he was waiting, desperately hoping for the moment when Dolohov might show his ugly mug.
"Of course, Darling. I'd never pass up the opportunity to put you through your paces." Without losing his focus, Draco scoffs lightly at the challenge.
"Big words for such a tiny human. Are you sure you can reach my shoulders with those minuscule arms? Do you need to stand on my feet? I'd let you, of course, me being a gentleman and all."
"Sod off and try to keep up." Granger quips testily before pulling him to the open dance floor, where the band begins to play a sultry tune that starts out slow. Granger's hips sway as he leads her in fluid motion, weaving through other couples less familiar with the steps to the fox trot, but she keeps up with no trouble.
"Any of the guests catch your fancy?" Draco whispers against Hermione's ear as he bends her into a slight dip, her back arching beautifully in the process.
"The list is endless, but I've not quite found the one I'm searching for yet." Granger's response would sound innocent enough to anyone listening in, but the double meaning was clear.
"How unfortunate for you, Darling. Perhaps we should explore the selection a bit further?" Draco asks as he steers her towards the edge of the dance floor.
"Great idea, lead the way." Granger agrees with a flourish of her hand, urging him forward. Her silver heels click steadily against the marble floor as they move about the room, greeting colleagues and friends.
Terrible business with Mr. Weasley.
Such a nice young man; sad to see how things went.
Did you know he was a war hero? Best friends with Harry Potter he was.
The comments were endless, and after an hour of the monotony of it all, Draco was ready to rip his hair out.
"Care for another dance, Darling? He interrupts the blithering old man droning on about wizard's rights.
"I would absolutely love that." Granger agrees eagerly and takes his hand as he leads her back towards the dance floor.
"I do hope you have the day you deserve, Mr. O'Connell," Draco says as he pulls his date away.
The pair joke over the audacity of some of the older generation of Wizards while still keeping a keen eye on their surroundings.
"Sweetheart, I do believe I have an admirer this evening. He can hardly keep his eyes off of me." Hermione says against the fabric of his chest as their bodies sway to the music.
Draco casually looks first to his left, then right, and confirms Granger's suspicions. A wizard standing at the edge of the dance floor has his eyes trained on the couple, just as he'd done numerous times throughout the evening. He was a non-descript man who would find blending in an easy task.
"I find myself in agreement. Why don't you use the powder room, and I'll have a chat with our friend?" Draco suggests as he leads Granger back off the dance floor but not close enough to the man to spook him.
"I'll meet you at the refreshment table, Love," Granger says before departing through the crowd.
Draco watches her for a moment before turning to their new friend. He nonchalantly makes his way over to the suspect until he's standing a few feet away, watching the dancers move about the floor.
"Bloody exhausting, isn't it?" Draco finally asks.
"What is?" Mr. Nondescript asks.
"Keeping up these appearances. Gotta keep the witch happy, though, I suppose." Draco responds with practiced ease.
"Uh- I don't know what you're talking about. Excuse me, need to use the gent's room."
Draco trails behind the man as he weaves through the crowd until he pushes his way to the hall leading to the restrooms. As Draco rounds the corner, he hears a loud popping noise, giving away the telltale sign of an apparition. Pushing into the ladies room, he checks every stall but finds each one empty.
Perfect
Draco conjures his silver dragon Patronus and sends a message to Viktor Krum and his Aurors. "It's time."
As he steps back into the ballroom, Draco watches as a multitude of Aurors make their way to their designated meeting spot at the room's entrance.
"Let's move out. I've got a date with a Death Eater."
Draco's POV
Draco and the rest of the team of Aurors responsible for Granger's retrieval sprinted to the designated conference room in the DMLE. Tables laden with Kevlar charmed with the best protection spells available, an assortment of potions and muggle weapons were quickly picked through as the team geared up. The route from the gala location to the DMLE had been expertly planned to allow for maximum efficiency so the Aurors would be in and out.
Loaded with his chosen assortment of weapons and a wand strapped into each shoulder holster, Draco stands ready with his team. Krum would be leading his group, and Draco would be the other, with ten highly trained witches and wizards eager to end this once and for all.
"We don't know exactly how many Death Eaters are on location, but if the reports we've received thus far are to be believed, there are at least thirty of the Dark Lord's followers on site. We know they are gathering their men for something big, so we must be prepared for anything. Our plan has worked so far, but each and every one of you needs to stay vigilant and watch each other's backs out there. Any questions?"
Answers of "No Sir." Ring out in the otherwise quiet space.
"Good. The magic created for the Portkeys we will be utilizing is not Ministry-approved, but this is a unique situation. We've been over this, but I want to make sure that everyone understands how this works. Again, are there any questions?" Draco asks as he makes eye contact with each member of his unit.
He's met with another multitude of "No Sir."
A rush of adrenaline floods Draco's veins as the Protean charmed coin warms in his palm in warning of imminent travel. Theo, being the Charms master, borrowed the concept of magically linked coins from Dumbledore's Army. Taking things a step further, he'd altered the Portus spell so a master coin would be able to summon anyone holding one of the many partners. Every Auror had been given their own coin for ease of travel.
With a sharp tug at his naval, Draco was transported through a swirl of color until his dragon-hide boots landed hard in the grass of a field surrounding a large castle. The dark sky nearly blended in with the outline of the stone walls and spires.
Nearly silent popping noises coincide with Draco's arrival, and he counts the eight members of his team before he gives the nonverbal command to move forward. The unit moves swiftly through the tall grass until they are roughly one hundred meters from the castle walls. Draco motions for Auror Jones to begin breaking down the estate's protective wards since the Portkey is only able to transport them outside of any security charms in place.
Draco and the rest of the team surround Jones in a shielding circle to prevent the Auror from taking damage as he works. Thankfully, the Death Eaters seem to be unaware that they have visitors, which means they still have the element of surprise, to Draco's immense pleasure.
Jones makes a quick motion with his fingers forward to indicate that the wards are down and the team should continue. Swift feet eat up the distance to the castle until they stand in a line against the wall outside one of the entry points.
"Fucking Mudbloods and blood traitors. When the Dark Lord returns, we'll make them all pay." An unknown Death Eater mutters from the other side of the lowered draw bridge.
"Blood grunt work, this is. We put in our time already. Shouldn't be standing guard like a fucking dog." Another voice complains.
Draco bends to pick up a decent-sized rock sitting at his feet and gently tosses it onto the wood of the bridge beside him.
"You hear that?" The second voice asks, followed by gravel shuffling.
"Probably an animal. There isn't anyone out here in this forsaken place." Voice, one adds.
"Best to check it out anyway. You know what Antonin will do if we screw this up." Draco easily picks up on the hint of fear in the first man's voice.
Draco's body tenses as he listens to the sound of gravel shifting closer to their hiding spot. Auror Crabbe stands at the ready beside him, both coiled to attack as soon as the pair step over the threshold of the wall.
"What the fu-"The first mystery Death Eater starts to mutter before only muffled gurgles can be heard as Draco's blade slices through fat and muscle until the man releases a last rattling breath, followed by both Crabbe and Draco, lowering the pair to the ground silently.
After casting a quick Scourgify to rid themselves of the congealing blood, Draco summons his comrades into a tight circle.
"Here's the dangerous part, Gents. Wands out and constant vigilance. Disillusion yourself, boys. Let's take down some Death Eaters." One by one, every Auror becomes transparent as they follow Draco's command. Another one of Theo's ideas had been for each Auror to wear a charmed badge on their vests that lit up but was only visible to the other members of the mission so they wouldn't accidentally hurt one another.
As they slowly made their way through the dimly lit halls, they encountered the occasional Death Eater, but they were easily eliminated; the real problems didn't start until one of the fucks altered the rest of his friends before he finally bit the bullet.
"The jig is up, boys. The real fun is about to begin. Dolohov is mine, though; take anybody else, but leave him. I have a special message to deliver."
Antonin Dolohov's POV
Antonin had always been ravenous for two things as a child, and that hadn't changed now that he was a man. He wanted what he couldn't have, and he was feral for a woman with curls. Admittedly, the second thing developed more as a teenager but became an obsession when he met his little Mudblood.
It ate at his insides when he had to punish her, but she was feisty and needed to be broken. If she hadn't destroyed that cup, he could have been the one to teach her. He could have been the one to fuck his seed into her and watch her grow round with his children. Mudblood would have to be kept a secret, though; the Dark Lord would never allow him to keep her, but that's because the Dark Lord didn't know. He could never understand the pleasure Antonin got from her cries of pain and the way she begged for mercy. Fuck he's hard just thinking about it.
Now she lays unconscious before him, and he's going to have to take his last bit of pleasure from her before Mudblood serves her final purpose.
"Crucio." He watches as his wand dances in the pattern of the torture curse. His favorite curse. No other spell creates such delicious pain and elicits the most spectacular screams like his favorite.
Mudblood screams so good for him. He will do it again, he thinks.
"Crucio," Antonin runs his fingers over the sweat-soaked skin of her forehead until he feels her curls begin to tangle in his hands so he can tug at the roots until she screams those beautiful sounds only she can make.
"My lil Mudblood. 'ow you sing for me. Warms my cock it does. Now it's jus the two of us I can show you proper 'ow I feel about yer dirty blood." Antonin feels the excitement like an electric current through his body as he runs his hands over her body.
"What's happenin' to your face, Mudblood?" Antonin watches in confusion as Hermione Granger's skin begins to bubble and morph, her body shaking harshly as her limbs extend; her curls now sit straight, and the cinnamon color is gone; now it's an inky black.
"Who the fuck are you?" Antonin roars as he realizes he's been tricked.
"The name is Auror Cho Chang. Pleased to meet you fuckface." He watches in stunned silence as the newly transformed woman uses the leverage from her grip on the chains to hoist her lower body back until she's curled in on herself. Releasing every bit of force she can muster, Cho's feet launch forward until they connect with the side of Dolohov's face, sending him reeling back against a stocked shelf where he sits unconscious.
Draco's POV
Perspiration slicks heavily over Draco's body as he dodges a menagerie of spells meant to maim, dismember, or kill. He'd been struck with a skin-melting hex on his shoulder that had sent searing pain down his left arm. He'd been able to contain the damage to a single location, but he would need to see a Healer soon to prevent permanent damage.
In his determination to find Dolohov, he lost track of the men who fell at the end of his wand or slice of his blade. Draco had sent a message to Chang requesting her location. It had taken a bit, but eventually, she responded, informing him she was located somewhere on the third floor of the castle.
The battle began to decline in ferocity as both teams of Aurors picked off their opponents one by one. The once gray stone of the throne room is now stained a russet color from the blood absorbed into the cold slab; severed limbs and lifeless corpses lay haphazardly throughout the room, and despite the amount of death surrounding him, Draco couldn't help but relish in the rush of life in his veins. He had taken the last five years to discover himself, to heal the parts of his mind that had been traumatized from his upbringing and his time serving under the Dark Lord. Draco liked to think he was a wizard capable of higher thoughts and separating himself from his base desires, but if anything, today had proved him wrong. He wasn't a cold-blooded murderer, but he would gladly tear through any man or woman who threatened the life of his witch or his children. Finding out he was to be a father had ignited a primal instinct to protect at any cost necessary. That was why this mission wasn't sanctioned by the Ministry. It was messy, but it was necessary to finally rid their world of the Death Eater plague.
"Are you coming to claim your prize, or do I need to drag him down myself?" Cho Chang's silver swan, Patronus, lazily taunts him before vanishing.
"You heard the lady. Looks like playtime is over, Yaxley." Draco says while sidestepping a shot of red light. The bright green light of the killing curse shoots from his wand and hits Yaxley in the chest, the green flames seemingly embracing his torso before leaving him in a lifeless heap on the floor.
"You lot take care of the last of this scum; I'll be back shortly," Draco announces before making his way toward the next flight of stairs that would lead him to Dolohov and Chang.
Taking the steps two at a time, Draco halts when he reaches the top of the landing as he looks in both directions of the split hall.
"Chang?" Draco calls out.
"Down here, Sir." Cho's familiar voice calls out from a few doors down.
Draco's boots chew up the short distance before he kicks in the heavy wooden door.
"Took you long enough. I contemplated taking care of the git myself out of boredom." Cho says as she sits with her legs crossed and propped up on a small side table. The dress she wore to the gala still adorns her body, but where Granger is short and curvy, Cho is slightly taller and slimmer built, so the dress doesn't fit quite right.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness. Next time, I'll try and decimate the Death Eater ranks faster so as not to keep you waiting." Draco quips as he steps over a fallen chair so he can squat in front of Dolohov's slumped form. "How long has he been out?"
"Asshole got a few Crucio's in, but I was able to knock him out, summon his wand and release myself. I stunned him so you can revive him whenever you're ready."
"Good work, Chang. Are you okay?" Draco asks as he looks over his shoulder to assess her for injuries.
"Don't worry about it. I suffered worse during the war. What do you say we take out the trash and get home? Something tells me Hermione is going to be waiting on pins and needles to see you." Cho's response does little to comfort Draco. The woman is definitely tough as nails, but the things she had been forced to endure made him sick to his stomach.
"Let's do it." Draco casts a quick Rennervate followed by an Incarcerous to prevent Dolohov from escaping.
"Good evening, Sweetheart. Did you miss me?" Draco asks sweetly as he plasters a cheeky grin. "Because I missed you, and I just can't wait to catch up." Fuck he's practically vibrating with excitement to finally have this over with. Granger would watch this memory later, so he was damned determined to make it a good one for her.
"Disgusting blood traitor!" Dolohov yells as he thrashes uselessly against his bindings.
"Oh, now you don't have to lie to me, Anty. We're all blood traitors here, so let's cut the bullshit. You can admit that the real reason you are so obsessed with my witch is not because you hate her but because you have some sick idea in your twisted little brain that you love her."
"Yer more fucked in the 'ead than I thought, boy if you believe that's true." Spittle flies between Antonin's lips as he continues to yell.
"If that's what you have to tell yourself, I guess, but we both know the truth. Now, how about you be a good boy and tell me where you hid the Horcruxes? Maybe if you tell the truth, I'll make it quick. We already found your undying man, so you might as well give up the rest."
"I'd rather die," Dolohov answers with zero hesitation.
"I was hoping you would say that." Draco chuckles darkly before grabbing a fistful of Dolohov's oily hair between his gloved fingers.
"Move out, Chang," Draco commands as he drags his captive, kicking and screaming by the roots of his hair, out of the room and down the stairs. The sound of voices chatting carries from the throne room, where Draco and Cho are met with cheers from their comrades.
"Goyle, grab a wand from one of the dead dipshits and toss it here." Draco requests as he lets Dolohov's upper body thud against the blood-soaked floor. After snatching the wand tossed to him, Draco releases Dolohov's bindings.
"Gather round everyone. You can say a lot of things about me but you can't say I'm completely heartless. Since I'm such a nice guy, I'm going to let you fight for your life. What do you say? Should we put on one last show before I bury you six feet deep in the unmarked grave you deserve?" The uniformed men and woman form a circle around the pair as Draco saunters around the man hunched on the floor.
"Fuck you." Dolohov venomously spits at his captor.
"Very original. Going for the simple stuff. If you like that, then you'll love this. After I bury you in said unmarked grave, you will rot. You will rot, and nobody will care about the moldering bones of a man who lived his life in such a small way. You will die, and you will be forgotten. Now, that is simple. No puff and circumstance for you, I'm afraid." Draco pauses to land a swift booted kick against Dolohov's side that leaves the man gasping for air.
"Stand up, you piece of shit," Draco demands, finally letting the hatred he feels burning through his veins leak into his tone. He tosses the unclaimed wand on the ground and listens to it clatter before he takes a few steps back and readies himself in a dueling stance. Dolohov desperately grabs at the wand and scrambles to his feet, where he faces Draco.
Where Dolohov stands shakily in the tight circle of his enemies, Draco holds his wand arm firm and the other with his favorite blade. A mixture of fear and desperation paints Dolohov's features, where Draco is nothing but cold determination.
"Avada Kedavra." Dolohov casts the killing curse, but Draco smoothly spins away and tosses a slicing hex that connects with his opponent's shoulder, leaving a deep gash that leaks a steady stream of crimson.
"Starting with the big boy stuff, I see." Draco taunts as he continues to evade Dolohov's wand fire, his body moving with the fluidity of a dancer.
The once sharp, intelligent eyes of the spell master have taken on a crazed look and his hexes become sporadic in their consistency. His fear and paranoia take hold of his faculties until he's a chaotic mess.
With focused precision, Draco casts another slicing hex that cuts deep into Dolohov's other shoulder.
"You will die knowing no one on this earth loves you." Draco's tone is low as he slowly walks toward the smallest man that ever lived.
A slicing hex tears through Dolohov's other shoulder, sending a cascade of red down his arm.
"You will die with my knife buried deep in your neck while you choke on your own blood." Draco takes another step forward.
Dolohov tries to back away, but he trips over his own feet and drops his wand.
"You will die knowing that you will never touch or see my witch again." Two steps forward, Draco digs his fingers through Dolohov's scalp and roughly yanks his head back so he's straining to stay upright from his kneeling position.
Draco bends so he can whisper the last words Dolohov will ever hear into his ear. "You will die knowing that Hermione Granger kept her promise to you. Are you ready to burn Antonin?" Draco steps behind Dolohov and digs his fingers into the man's jaw until it pops open. He pulls the last letter Hermione received from the twisted fuck from his pocket.
Do you think she'll have curls like you, Mudblood? Will she cry the same way when she's in pain? I do love those sounds you make.
Draco crams the crumpled parchment between Dolohov's lips until he's choking on his words. Holding his jaw firm, Draco slides his blade over Dolohov's neck in a clean line and steps back as the man crumples backward, his hands desperately scraping at his neck to stem the river of red that ceaselessly flows.
Hermione's POV
Hermione's feet carry her on the familiar carpeted path she had been pacing for the last six hours. She'd been vehemently against tonights plan, not wanting Cho to put herself in such danger but when it came down to it, it was the safest option for her babies. Cho was a skilled Auror and could take care of herself whereas Hermione hadn't the skill of a trained professional in a duel. So, she'd reluctantly agreed and provided some of her hair for Theo's extended Polyjuice Potion.
"Hermione. Please sit down; you're making me dizzy with all that pacing." Pansy complains from her spot on the couch.
"I can't sit still, Pans. Not until he's home. Not until I know he's safe," Hermione says as she worries about her nails.
"It's Draco we're talking about. I'm sure he's already saved Potter, defended your honor, and beat the bad guy. I would be willing to bet on it." Pansy says as she tries to reassure her friend.
Hermione nearly jumps out of her skin as the green flames of the Floo roar to life, and Draco's broad form steps through the grate.
"Draco!" Hermoine shouts as she rushes towards him. He lets out an oomph sound when she grabs his shoulders and jumps into his arms where she buries her face against his neck.
"I'm covered in blood, Love. Scourgifying only does so much. Let me get a shower really quick." Hermione only wraps her arms tighter around his neck in response, refusing to let him go until she's convinced herself he's alive and he's okay.
"Fine. You can go home Pans. Thanks for keeping her company." Draco's arms are curled under Hermione's bottom, so she's held securely against him. So, he has to look around her mass of hair to give Pansy a nod in farewell.
"Hey, Love. I'm okay. Not even a scratch, well maybe one, but you should see the other guys." Draco teases as he makes his way up the stairs and heads towards their master bathroom. He flicks his wand towards the shower to start the water running before tossing it on the counter.
"I was so scared, Draco. I wanted so bad to be there with you tonight, to have your back like you've had mine. What if something had happened to you?" Hermione lets her worries flow freely as Draco sets her down on the bench and kneels before her.
"You have my back by keeping our children safe. That is the most important thing you could have done. If I had been worried about you and the babies, I don't know that I would have been focused enough to make it out of there. There were a few injuries on our side but no losses so no more worries over what could have been. The only thing you need to focus on now is getting your new store ready and using this Goddess body to bring little Lyra, Leo and Scorpius into the world. Understood?" Draco cups her chin as he forces her to meet his gaze.
"K. I love you, Draco. Thank you for being my moon and giving me the stars." The sentiment may have been cheesy, but it was the truth. Draco had brought a gentle glow to the everlasting night that had been her life. His soft light did not fix her every problem, but it guided her through the black until she was able to rediscover herself, scars and all.