A/N: I know it's been awhile since I've updated. I had my first baby in August 2023 and found it much easier to write when he was sleeping all day every day. Now that I have an energetic 11 month old, it's a bit harder to find free time. I still plan to finish this story - even if it takes me awhile! Thanks for hanging around.
Chapter Thirty Six
It hadn't taken Hermione long to get back into her routine at the Ministry. After all the chaos that had gone on over the last few weeks, she found immense comfort immersed in the stacks of confidential documents that piled on her desk. It felt good to keep busy, and she was able to make it until lunch hour before her mind wandered to the wellbeing of her daughter.
Hermione was relieved that Rose's condition seemed to be improving with each passing day. The young witch was no longer a shell of her former self, though she still wasn't completely back to normal either.
During the day, Rose carried on like she used to, but her tired red eyes were telling. She hadn't been able to get more than a few hours of sleep each night since the healer advised to stop the sleeping draught. Hermione suspected that nightmares, in combination with heartache over Scorpius, had been keeping her daughter from a good nights sleep.
Feeling behind, Hermione did her best to push aside her worry and refocus on the quarterly budget report in front of her, but a knock on her office door once again broke her concentration. With a sigh, she set down her quill and looked up from her desk.
"Yes?" she called sharply, rising from her chair and smoothing her black skirt. She wasn't expecting anyone and usually her assistant screened visitors.
The large wooden door opened, revealing a familiar pale skinned man with short platinum hair slicked back like it had been at Hogwarts. He was dressed in slim fitted black robes with a rolled up newspaper tucked under his left arm. The corner of his lip curved into a faint smile.
"Malfoy," she said with a hint of surprise. She had not seen him since she'd gone to his office several weeks earlier, and so much had changed in that short time.
"Granger," he greeted with a nod, his eyes scanning over her office until they landed back on her. "May I come in?"
"Certainly," she said politely, gesturing for him to take one of the two seats in front of her desk.
Draco entered, softly closing the door behind him. Both he and Hermione sat down simultaneously, their eyes locked onto one another's. He was the first to speak.
"I heard something interesting the other day while passing through the Leaky Cauldron," he began, drumming his fingers on his arm chair with a mischievous look. Hermione leaned forward slightly, her interest peaked.
"Diagon Alley is buzzing," he continued. "Rumor has it your husband has managed to weasel his way back into your bed."
Hermione stiffened, and a surge of annoyance jolted through her. Of course people were talking. The gossip about her family was nonstop, it always would be be.
"I've never concerned myself with rumors," she retorted curtly.
"Normally nor do I, but seeing how you and I are... friendly, I found myself intrigued," Malfoy replied, and then with an inquisitive eyebrow raise, asked, "Is it true?"
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"You really came all the way to the Ministry to ask if I've reconciled with Ron?"
"No," he said firmly, his lips curled into an uncomfortable expression, something between a smile and a frown. His grey eyes held Hermione's gaze intensely. "I came all the way to the ministry to tell you how sorry I am about what happened to Rose and apologize for my father's terrible actions."
"Malfoy... " Hermione sighed, giving him a sympathetic look.
"Of course prying into your private life is just a small perk to my visit."
Hermione chose to ignore that last comment.
She could see it now. He felt guilty about what happened to Rose, just like his son.
"You've already sent flowers and card," she said with a soft, reassuring smile. "Not to mention the numerous meals you had your assistant drop off. Besides, you have nothing to apologize for."
"I should have known he was planning something," Draco said quietly, his eyes darkening. "People like him don't change. It's a miracle Scorpius turned out the way he did considering his role models."
"You're not your father," Hermione said gently. She tentatively reached her hand out and rested it on his shoulder. "And you're not responsible for his actions either."
Draco seemed to be waging a fierce battle in his mind, and it suddenly dawned on Hermione that she must not be the only one still haunted by the war.
"I'll kill him if he ever shows his face again," he muttered with furrowed brows, breaking their moment of silent contemplation. "You know that, right?"
"I know," Hermione nodded, and then deciding it was best to change the subject to something lighter, said, "I haven't had a chance to thank you for offering your lake house. You were right, I needed the break."
"Did Ms. Know-It-All Granger really just admit that someone else was right?" Draco teased with a faint smirk.
"Don't start," Hermione warned playfully.
"How's Rose doing?" Draco asked after a beat, his expression changing to one of concern.
"Better," Hermione answered with a tentative smile. "She's having some trouble at night now that she's no longer taking a draught." She paused, chewing her bottom lip before adding, "she won't really talk about it... I suspect she's having nightmares."
"I suppose you'd know," Draco sighed, and Hermione knew they were both thinking of what had happened at the Manor years ago. They'd never talked about it, and despite how far she and Draco had come in their unusual friendship, she'd never be willing to discuss it with him.
"And Scorpius?" Hermione asked quickly, steering the subject away from the past. "How's he?"
Draco paused, his thin lips once again curving downward.
"Utterly love sick," he muttered, shaking his head slowly. "All he does is mope around in a miserable state of self pity. It's rather pathetic."
Hermione grimaced. She'd grown to care for Scorpius over the years, and she hated how much the young teen was hurting.
"There's another reason I came by today," Draco said before quietly cleared his throat and sitting up straight in his chair. "There's been lots of speculations in the media about why Rose was at St. Mungo's."
"I know," Hermione sighed, thinking of dozens of headlines she'd seen.
"I thought you'd want to prepare yourself," Draco said shifting slightly in his seat. He unrolled the newspaper that had been clasped tightly in hands and set it on the desk. "Tomorrow's edition."
Hermione leaned closer, her chocolate eyes rapidly scanning over the black print as her heart raced.
THE DAILY PROPHET
-Special Edition-
The Minister's Daughter & The Malfoys
By: Rita Skeeter
Hermione's gaze turned to the large photo of Rose and Scorpius that accompanied the article. Rose was laughing as the younger Malfoy pulled her towards him, capturing her waist with his hands and connecting their lips as he lightly pushed her against the outer door of the Gryfindor broom shed. It was clear that the pair were headed inside, and Hermione knew anyone who'd attended Hogwarts would know exactly what for.
Her gut twisted. The picture was yet another reminder of how naive she'd been, and she figured it must have been taken when the pair had first gotten together in the spring after the end of the Quidditch season.
"How... ?" she faltered, still trying to process what she was seeing.
"I have a few connections at The Prophet," he replied, anticipating her need for further explanation. "They send me an advanced edition whenever my name is in it, or in this case, Scorpius's."
"How much does Rita actually have?" She asked, not sure she was ready for the answer. She couldn't stomach reading the article herself, not right now.
"Pretty much all of it," Malfoy replied.
A wave of nausea overtook her. Dealing with the aftermath of being tortured was one thing, but having everyone in the Wizarding World discussing it was an entirely different challenge. Rose had already been through so much.
"This is the last thing we need," Hermione said, feeling deflated.
"I tried to halt it," Draco said, and then with a small sigh added, "I'm afraid I'm not as influential as I once was now that Astoria's not at my side."
"I hate that our kids are getting caught up in all this nonsense. I swore to myself that I would keep Rose and Hugo out of the public eye."
"Me too," Draco nodded, his fists tightly balled and resting on the arms of his chair.
"Thank you," Hermione said finally. "For telling me. I'll talk to Rose."
"At least there's a chance Scorpius won't even see it. He's hardly left his room."
"He thinks he's a danger to Rose."
"I tried telling him it wasn't his fault," Draco replied with a frown.
Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. Poor Scorpius. She couldn't imagine how confused and guilt ridden he must be.
"Try again," she said firmly. "Maybe he'll see reason now that some time has passed."
Draco offered her a weak smile.
"I would have thought you'd be happy... your daughter's virtue, safe at last."
Hermione felt a knot in her stomach. Rose's virginity was absolutely the last thing she wanted to discuss with Malfoy.
"Stop it."
Draco's blonde eyebrow cocked.
"You can't honestly say you want them back together..."
Hermione faltered for a moment before answering. She wasn't really sure what it was she wanted.
If only she could go back in time a year ago, before she was Minister, before she and Ron started having major problems, before Lucius plotted to take down her family, before she'd caught her daughter in bed with the younger Malfoy, and most of all, before she'd become infatuated with the one person she shouldn't have. Yes, last summer had certainly been simpler.
"I... I want my daughter to be happy," she told him, though there was a hint of hesitation in her voice. "Scorpius loves her, at least, he thinks he does, and I'm almost positive she feels the same."
Draco scoffed, shaking his head.
"They don't know even know what love is," he said and then with a cheeky grin added, "You've always been too soft."
"Yeah, well I guess I'm a sucker for romance," Hermione replied with a weak smile.
Another silence fell over the pair, and Hermione cast her eyes to her wooden wall clock she'd been relying on since misplacing her golden watch.
"I should probably get back to... " she gesture to the large stacks of paper.
"Right," Draco said, rising from his seat. "I've kept you long enough. Good day, Minister Granger."
Hermione rolled her eyes at his formality.
"Good day, Mr. Malfoy," she replied back in a teasing tone.
Draco moved to exit the office, but stopped when his hand touched the doorknob. He didn't turn around.
"Hermione?"
"Yes?" She answered with a confused look, her eyes fixated on the back of his blonde head. She wasn't sure if she'd ever heard him use her first name.
"Although I'm sure any advice from me will mean absolutely nothing... I just..." he trialed off hesitantly and Hermione wondered if he'd lost his nerve to say whatever it was he'd intended, but the sound of his voice resumed, this time more steady. "Don't take that prick back. You're too good for him. Always have been."
Hermione paused, briefly caught off guard from the concern coming from her childhood enemy. It was sweet of Draco to care, but her relationship with Ron was yet another subject they wouldn't be discussing.
"Goodbye, Malfoy."
...
"Hungry?" Harry asked with a smile, ducking under the mantel of the Grimmauld Place living room fireplace. He held a paper takeout bag in one hand and a bottle of white wine in the other.
"Starving," Hermione replied from her relaxed position on the sofa. She gently tossed her book on the coffee table as she sat up.
"Have you been waiting long?" Harry asked, setting down the bag and wine next to her book. He moved to the nearby drink cart and grabbed two wine glasses.
"No," she answered over her shoulder as she started to unpack takeout that was from a nearby Vietnamese Restaurant. They'd ordered from there several times over the last few weeks. "I floo'd over about fifteen minutes ago."
Harry appeared next to her, and took his usual place on the couch. As Hermione continued opening the containers, he popped the wine and poured them each a hefty glass.
"Where are you supposed to be tonight?" he asked, taking a long sip of the Pinot Noir he'd struggled to select. He did mind wine, but he really knew nothing about it.
Hermione gave him a guilty look.
"At the office, catching up on paperwork," she answered. "Though I'm sure I didn't fool Rose. She's been watching my every move like a hawk."
"Has she said anything more since the other day?"
"No, thankfully not," Hermione answered. "I think the article has been preoccupying her mind, though she'd never admit that to me."
Harry didn't probe further and Hermione handed him a plastic fork and speared a piece of broccoli with her own. The two ate in a comfortable silence, both recharging after a long day.
When Harry couldn't eat another bite, he leaned back against the couch cushions and took a slow sip from his wine.
"Did Molly happen to talk to you today?" He asked tentatively as he eyed Hermione carefully.
"About the family barbecue?" She asked with a scowl, and when he nodded, she continued. "Yes, and I told her it wasn't a good idea."
Molly Weasley had rung Hermione's cell phone in the morning, the first time the older witch had ever communicated with her using muggle technology. Hermione had answered right away, fearing that something horrible had once again happened. When Molly reassured her that everything was fine, her relief quickly turned to frustration.
Every year, Molly threw a party to celebrate the start of a new school year for her grandkids. The entire family always came, and apparently this year was no exception. Molly had called not only to inquire as to whether she and the kids were planning on attending, but also to strongly encourage that they do.
Hermione did not want to go. It was that plain and simple. That last thing she wanted was to be stuck at the Burrow with the entire Weasley Clan while she was in some strange marriage limbo with Ron and a secret relationship with Harry. It was too much, too weird.
"I can imagine how well that went," Harry said with a grimace.
"She insistent that the kids and I go," Hermione answered, grabbing an egg roll. "She thinks getting everyone together might help with all the... tension."
"Because that's worked so well every other time we've tried this summer."
"She's desperate to get all of us in the same room," Hermione sighed. "These past two months have been hard on her too. I think she feels as though she's losing us."
Harry's lips curved downward and a crease appeared on his forehead.
"I guess in a way she sort of is. I mean... Ginny and I are getting divorced, and you and Ron aren't far behind. Most people don't keep in touch with their ex-mother-in-law."
"We aren't most people," Hermione replied pointedly, casting him a meaningful glance. "Molly... as overbearing as she is, she's... well, you know."
"Yeah, I do," Harry said quietly, his gaze downward. "She's the only mother I've ever known."
Hermione sighed again, this time more heavily, and ran her fingers through her wavy hair. "Ginny isn't going to want to see me."
"Or me," Harry added.
"What should I do?"
"I... I might regret saying this, but I think you should go. We both should."
He didn't sound convincing, but Hermione knew he wouldn't change his mind. He'd be at the barbecue, and if she didn't go, she'd be the only one missing.
"I suppose an afternoon with the Weasleys won't kill me," Hermione said with reluctancy. "I'll owl Molly tomorrow morning and let her know that Ron and I will be there with the kids."
"Ron?"
"Well... I can't exactly show up without him, can I? He's living with us. It would be weird to arrive separately."
Harry's emerald eyes narrowed slightly.
"You're sure that's it?" He asked, analyzing Hermione carefully.
"Positive," she replied confidently, hoping that the firmness in her voice would be reassuring. She paused for a moment, before adding, "but I have been thinking... maybe we should cool it for awhile."
Harry's brow furrowed.
"Cool it?" He asked with bemusement.
Hermione's lips curled into a weak smile. She reached for Harry's hand with her own, and squeezed it tightly.
"The kids will be back in school soon," she began, locking her chocolate eyes onto his. "I want to spend these last few days with them. Everything's going to change soon, and our lives will never be the same. I just want one last week of normalcy, or as close to it as I can get."
Sympathy shone through Harry.
"You're still feeling guilty," he stated.
Hermione exhaled loudly, shaking her head.
"Yes, but not for the reasons you think. Being with you... you have no idea how it makes me feel, and I don't want it to end, I really don't. I just... I can't be sneaking around at all hours of the night. It feels like we're doing something wrong, and I don't like feeling that way. Not when I'm with you."
Harry gave her a small nod of understanding. He hadn't cared for the all secrecy and stolen moments between them. He wanted to take Hermione on dates, to proudly have her on his arm and to be near her without fear of repercussions. Above all, he wanted something real, not the occasional evening cooped up together at Grimmauld's Place.
"And when Rose and Hugo are back at Hogwarts?" He asked after a brief silence.
Hermione smiled warmly.
"I plan to spend every night with you," she said softly, and then shyly added, "Of course, only if you want me too."
Harry beamed, and pulled her towards him, connecting their lips in a tender kiss. As she melted into him, pressing her chest into his as she delicately ran her fingers through his black hair, he knew what it was he felt.
Love.
Harry was in love.