Midnight Swimming Chapter 3: T, a harry potter fanfic

Chapter 3

Draco

Once they're both through the floo of their manor Draco chokes out, "That was a fucking nightmare," as his heart pounds in his chest, breathing doesn't scold him for his foul language.

"I didn't think she would be at Hogwarts at this time," she says aloud, barely above a whisper, without looking at him.

Draco runs his hand through his hair, attempting to rid the dream of Granger and him out of existence. "Well I can confirm these are unprecedented times, Mother. First allowing a student back at the very school I threatened to up-end the former Headmaster. Then forcing me under the same roof as that girl! After everything?!" He shouts, pointing in the direction of where she would be. "These are mad fucking times." He spits out slightly shaking his head, with a baffled expression as he stares at the floor.

Narcissa takes in a deep breath and slowly exhales, trying to calm her nerves.

"I'm so sorry, my dear. If I had known that this would have been the outcome when I contacted the Ministry regarding your 8th year, I wouldn't have." She says to her son, her eyes pleading.

"This isn't your fucking fault!" Draco bellows.

He takes a step back and holds a hand up to his mother, already knowing her reaction.

"I know, I'm sorry." He breathes out, "None of this is your fault. Please don't blame yourself," his voice, more calm than it's been since this morning.

Draco shoves his hands in his pockets, glancing back at his mother with an apologetic look. They share apologetic glances.

"I guess they're trying to drive me mad before inevitably sending me off to Azkaban to join Father."

Narcissa winces at his statement, "Merlin, Draco. Please don't even joke about that."

Pop

"Mistress Cissa, Master Draco, would like lunch now?" Topsy asks the pair.

Narcissa glances at Draco to gauge his reaction. Draco nods to his mother and she nods in return. "Yes, lunch sounds lovely."

* . * . *

Draco finds himself strolling the gardens sometime in the evening, it's become his favorite place to go since his restriction started. The library was a close second, but being outside the manor felt as though his metaphoric shackles weren't as confined around his ankles. He admires the rose bush that greets him at the entrance of the gardens. The vines wrap around the large marble entrance displaying the plethora of beautiful fully-developed crimson roses poking out of the sea of green. He passes by the huge hydrangea den his mother curated this summer. The project took most of the summer since the soil wasn't rich enough to grow anything of the magnitude she was going for. Looking up gardening tips, seeing if she could add anything to the water to help it grow faster and larger. It was all rather muggle because she refused to use enriching or growing charms. It was her attempt to keep busy and not go mad herself from missing his father. Funny thing really, he knew his father would have despised the idea of her doing anything the muggle way.

I guess grief does that to people; has people acting out of character.

Draco hears the screech of an owl in the distance. Looking up to spot it, he notices the array of colors in the sky as it's about to set. As soon as he sees the creature, it makes a high pitched squawk at him, making him grimaces in disgust at the sound. The bird nears him, expanding its wings further out and flapping to slow its pace. Draco clocks the backwards letter in its talons with the Hogwarts seal facing him.

"Merlin, what now?" He sneers, rolling his eyes.

The creature squawked another high pitch sound before landing on a rose bush a yard away from Draco. He glared at the bird for a long moment. A louder high pitched noise came from the owl.

"Oi! Fucking hell. No need for that!" Draco yells at the creature covering his ear closest to the ugly git while waving it off with the other. He angrily marches over to snatch the letter, but the bird drops it in the rose bush making its last painful screech before flying off.

Bloody fucking thing, almost pierced my eardrum.

He rips the envelope out of the bushes, thorns slicing through his marblesque flesh in several places on his hand. Draco instinctively clutches his injured hand. Blood rushes to the surface, dripping down his forearm.

"Gahh, as if this FUCKING day can't get any-" stilling to scream into the air, "FUCKING WORSE!" Birds in the nearby treetops flee their post, scattering into the darkening sky in the distance.

Pop

Lila, Draco's house elf, apparates into view.

"Does Master Dra- oh!" Lila's eyes widened at the sight of Darco's hand already covered in blood. Their smallest elf waves at him in a hurried manner to come closer. Draco stalks over to the tiny elf shoving the bloody thing into her face.

She shudders at the amount of blood, "Euchk, nasty cut, Master Draco," commenting without looking at his face. She quickly examines the injury.

Snap

The blood disappears from his hand and arm sleeve, along with the intense stench of copper. Lila scurries over to the hydrangeas, bends down to grab a fist full of dirt and runs back over to Draco. His brows pull together in confusion. Brown muck in one hand she reaches over with her other to grab his lightly scarred hand. Lila spits a grotesque amount of saliva onto his hand right before she smothers the injury with the dirt.

"Euchk"

"Dirt Mistress Cissa found can heal!" Lila joyfully exclaims throwing her hands in the air.

"And the spit?" Disgust written all over his face.

"For good measure," she retorts, nodding her head innocently, blinking her huge doe eyes up at her master.

Draco snatches his hand back from the elf, holding the injured hand by the wrist, takes a step back and forces his eyes shut. He attempts to take a few deep breaths to simmer down.

"I fucking hate my life!" he angrily whispers to himself.

Opening his eyes he sees Lila skipping merrily back to the manor.

Once calm and alone in his room, he peers down at the bandage wrapped around his hand, minding that his mother told him to keep it bandaged with the dirt.

Won't it get infected? I don't really care if it scars.

Just adding more to my collection, both internally and externally.

This thought reminds him of the one Hermione bears. Memories of her screams intrude his peace of mind. The way her body contorted on the floor of the drawing room was excruciating to be forced to watch. Draco has never felt such shame in his life than in that moment of witnessing her endure that pain at the hands of his own family; someone who shares his own blood. Begging for salvation, only for her words to fall on deaf ears. No one to save her. No one to protect her. Before that day, he didn't think that Hermione needed protection. Her bullheadedness and forward thinking always found a way. She seemed to always be the protector of a sort. All their days at Hogwarts running around with Weasley and Potter, they were out of their league when it came to her. She was the better witch, the better person, the better guide.

Ah. Hogwarts. The Letter.

Draco scans the room trying to remember where he put it. Recalling where he put the letter and walks over to his bedside drawer, opening it to reveal the letter. He then noticed the dark green leather journal that he found earlier, residing underneath the letter. Plucking both of them out then closing the drawer, Draco sets the journal on top of the small bedside table. He opens the letter carefully, trying to refrain from getting another hand injury today.

Dear Mr. Malfoy,

I am writing to you regarding the meeting we began earlier, which you left prematurely. It is imperative that we reconvene to address the matters left unresolved.-

Draco rolls his eyes.

Your attendance to this meeting is not merely requested but required. The topics we have yet to discuss carry significant weight not only for your personal welfare but also for your standing within the Wizarding Community.

I must stress the gravity of your absence. Failure to return will result in consequences that extend beyond Hogwarts. Any further negative behavior or disregard for your responsibilities as a member of our community will be reported to the Ministry of Magic for their consideration of appropriate disciplinary action.

While I understand the challenges and complexities you may be facing, it is imperative that we do not allow personal circumstances to impede progress towards reconciliation and unity. As much as I sympathize with your situation-

Like you know a fucking thing about me.

-I must emphasize the broader importance of rebuilding as a united front, both within Hogwarts and in the Wizarding Community at large.

Your cooperation in this matter is crucial not only for your own future but also for the greater good of our community. I implore you to return promptly at 10:30 tomorrow morning to complete our discussion.

Sincerely,

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Hogwarts Headmistress

Minerva McGonagall

27th of August 1998

*Knock, knock, knock*

Draco stirs awake the following morning.

Fuck. I have to go back to that shit hole.

Groaning loudly as he yanks the covers off himself.

"Is Master Draco with company?" Topsy asks from the other side of the door.

Merlin, Pans really did traumatize the poor elf.

"You can come in, Topsy, I'm alone," he shouts out to her.

Topsy opens the door and peers about the room. Draco sits up in the bed and stretches his arms, yawning his sleep away.

"Mistress Cissa requests Master Draco for breakfast."

"Alright, I'll be right down."

Topsy nods, her large floppy ears swaying back and forth.

Pop

Draco cracked his neck before getting out of bed. Remembering the bandage that's still tightly wrapped his hand, he notices a few specks of dried blood trying to poke through the white linen fabric. He strips out of his black pajamas. He was able to get a proper use out of them considering he wore them for a brief maybe four minutes before chucking them off in a hurry to meet with the Minister yesterday.

Things have really gone tits up.

Choosing a similar outfit as yesterday, but replacing the button up with a soft cashmere turtleneck. Everything black. Because he's in mourning, he thought to himself.

I'm grieving my former life. Trading one shoddy life for another.

He strides over to his bathroom sink. He examines his hand as he unwraps the bandage. Dirt is still caked all over his hand with new remnants of dried blood that's sticking to the fabric in certain areas. Noting that it's not painful, as he rips the rest of the bandage off with his free hand then turns on the faucet. Once the water becomes a bearable lukewarm temperature, he submerges the filthy hand under the flow of the water. Rinsing away the small bits of blood and dirt, he sees that his hand is completely healed. Smiling slightly at the unblemished sight before he turns off the faucet, he heads out of the bathroom, stopping when he spots the journal that he still doesn't know where it came from.

"Accio journal."

The journal flinging to him, he catches it with ease. Touching the intricate details along the edges of the dark green cover, he flips it open in hopes to reveal either a name of its owner or entries from someone.

Huh? Nothing. How odd. How'd it end up under my bed?

Draco goes to close it but then words begin to glow as they appear in calligraphy.

May this journal illuminate new perspectives and direct you towards the path in life you're meant to lead.

Illuminate new perspectives? Meant to lead?

So, if I write in this blasted thing, it'll write back to me?

Fuck that. I'm not writing in this thing.

He places a weightless charm on the journal and shoves it into one of his large pockets of the robe while exiting his room to join his mother. After they both finish their meal, Lila clears the table with a loud snap. Narcissa uses her cloth napkin to remove any remnants of her breakfast from her mouth, then tosses it onto the floating dishes heading towards the kitchen to be washed.

"So do you have any plans for this evening, Draco?"

"This evening, no. But I have been summoned back to Hogwarts by McGonagall to finish that meeting apparently," annoyance in his tone.

Narcissa closes her eyes and shakes her head in disapproval. Looking back at Draco, "Out of all the options they have at their disposal, this is the best one?"

He shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders. "Giving me the rope to hang myself with, I guess."

Narcissa shows her disapproval for the comment, but doesn't comment on it herself. "I guess I don't need to tell you to be on your best behavior then, do I?"

"Or else it's shacking up with a bloody dementor in jolly ol' Azkaban. You know what at this point. I think I'd prefer it," Draco scoffs, crossing his arms.

"Would you please shut it with the dramatics Draco! This is serious! Our name doesn't hold much meaning anymore, so we have no sway with anyone in office. We're out of options. I'm begging you to take this matter seriously," Narcissa implores her son sternly.

Draco stares annoyingly in a direction that's not his mother's and crosses his arms. "Fine. But I won't be happy about it!"

"Oh, please do get over yourself my love, we're both not happy about it," she says in a light dismissive tone while narrowing her eyes at him.

*.*.* . *.*.*

Draco floos into Hogsmeade since apparently his Headmistress barred him from entering her office.

Bloody rude of the twat.

Dusting himself off, he exits the shop, ignoring the grimaces and foul comments some people say just loud enough for him to hear.

Once on the grounds he's familiarized himself with for several years, he begins to feel a tad nostalgic of former years where life was far more simpler than it is now. He knew that McGonagall called for first years to arrive a few days early to help acclimate them. Draco was just grateful that not many students are walking the grounds currently. Any muggle-borns might not know his name, but other witches and wizards who don't live under a rock will know who he is.

He takes the stairs to the Headmistress's office, two at a time. Fetching his pocket watch he notes that it's 10:25.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy. Thank you for coming."

"I was under the impression that this meeting was mandatory. So didn't really have a say, now did I?" He shrugs his shoulders, giving her an irritated pointed look.

Headmistress exhales her own irritation. "Draco please forgive me, I do have some matters that need my immediate attention. I'll have to push back our meeting. Please remain on the premises. I'll fetch you when I'm available."

Draco scoffs, "You demand that I arrive promptly, but you're not even available. Bloody rude of you."

"I was under the impression that you've been put on travel restriction Mr. Malfoy. I apologize, I didn't realize you had any pressing matters to attend to," she says with her brows lifted, waiting for an answer to prove her wrong.

Draco clenches his jaw.

This fucking bitch.

"It's wise not to assume."

"Right you are Draco. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to Mr. Zabini."

Draco steps closer to see that Blaise is in fact in her office. Blaise gives him a quick nod which Draco nods in return. McGonagall flicks her wand to shut the door, leaving Draco to fend for himself.

He trots down the stairs, irritated that he has to remain in this blasted castle longer than he was anticipating. Draco shoves his hands in his pockets taking in the old stones and portraits of former students, great witches and wizards as he's being thoughtlessly pulled towards the library. Hoping that Blaise will also think to head to the library to catch up before Blaise heads back home. Nothing has changed since the last time Draco was here. He's sure it took a while to sort everything back out after the war. He takes stock of the elves that are sorting books and a few people that he assumes are first years engrossed in some magical books. He shuffles through some happier memories of being in this library: some of learning new magic to use, some of goofing off with Theo, most of snogging Pans.

Leaning into that nostalgic feeling, he saunters off to the back of the library to the restricted section. Strutting passed rows and rows of empty seats the further he goes into the library. He does a double take when he spots a familiar dark green leather journal laying on the table. He intakes his surroundings, no one's here besides him, then checks his robe pocket where he placed the journal.

Huh. Mine's still in my robes. How odd.

He walks closure to the identical dark green leather journal he currently has in his robes. He picks up the one on the table, examining any differences this one might have. None that he can tell so far. He opens the journal for further examination.

Here we go!

He smirks when he finds that this journal does have an owner and has written an entry. Not bothering to look to see who the journal belongs to he reads the entry.

Dear Diary,

Ugh, I don't know. I probably won't keep writing that. Seems a tad juvenile for my liking, haven't written in a diary since I was a young girl. So yeah, no more dear diary bullshit.

Draco chuckles at the entry, thoroughly entertained so far.

Luna was the first person to greet me at Hogwarts besides Headmistress McGonagall. It was really nice seeing her after so long. I haven't seen her since the day of the battle.

Draco exhales, not being able to identify how he feels about where it's going. He continues to read.

Luna informed me of her father's death. It's sad to say, but I wasn't surprised when she told me he committed suicide. I could tell when we visited him, he was a ticking time bomb. Especially with Luna being missing at the time.

Now he knows what he's feeling. Guilt and shame. Draco was well aware of her whereabouts, after all she was in the Malfoy's dungeons.

Shit.

He tilts his head back slightly and closes his eyes, he exhales deeper and reads on.

I did, however, enjoy when she told me about her and Neville's rumpus love-making that led to her sporting the black eye she has.

"Oh Merlin, that's disgusting!" Draco laughs out loud.

The sound of shuffling and books hitting a shelf tears his attention away.

Oh shit, someone's coming.

Wanting to read the rest but knowing he doesn't have the time he gauges where the sound came from. Doesn't see anyone poking out so decides he has time for a simple spell. Taking out his journal and his wand he tries to remember the copying charm Blaise taught him a few years ago. Draco hesitates for a brief moment, pandering if he should be this intrusive.

Fuck it.

He quickly does the charm and shoves his journal back into his robes and tosses the other back onto the table. He backs up from the table, nonchalantly peers around the room to make sure no one saw anything. More worried about being caught he cautiously scans the area in front of him. He continues to back up, not sensing the person he bumps into, they make an 'oof' sound as Draco collides into them.

"Oh shit, sorry," Draco says to them before he turns around to find Granger on the ground along with a few books.

Oh.

Shit.

Draco's brain doesn't catch up with his body, he realizes he's stuck out his hand to help her. Her eyes flickering between his hand and his face. Draco feels like he's in a bad dream where he's moving in slow motion unable to force things to a normal speed. After what feels like an eternity, she grabs his hand and pulls her up.

The shock of electricity that transpires from touching her nearly scares him. Shell-shocked by the intensity of their touch and not paying attention to his own strength, he practically flings her into his chest. Another 'oof' sound escapes her.

Cinnamon and sour apples invade his senses making him borderline delirious. His eyes darted to her to gauge her reaction. Besides bewilderment, he can't place any other expression. Granger begins to take in deep breaths, causing her breasts to rub up against his chest. This instantly sends a shock wave of pleasure throughout Draco's entire body only to stay content in his mid-region. Granger's lip part to release a small, moaned gasp. He glances down at her parted full lips eager to pull her closer and taste her…

What the fuck is happening?

He now fully recognizes the stiffness within his trousers. Absolutely mortified, Draco places his hands on either side of her arms and slowly shoves her back. He catches a glimpse of her face; it mirrors his own. Surprise, worry, and distrust but there's a hint of what he thinks is lust.

Please let this be a bad dream. Please let this be a bad dream.

Draco opens his mouth to say something, but the fact that he's now desperate for that delectable scent of cinnamon and sour apples has thrown him off. It is driving him mad. He closes his mouth, fearing he'll make this moment worse. Granger cautiously side steps out of his touch and reaches for the books still on the ground, not taking her eyes off of him as she retrieves them.

"Ahem," someone clears their throat. Granger and Draco snap their heads to the noise to find Blaise smirking at the two of them. Draco glances at Hermione out of the corner of his eye, seeing her face turn bright red. A sense of protection falls over him and he steps in front of Granger to hide her from Blaise. Blasie's eyes drift to Draco's obvious erection and then back at Draco's face. Blaise tilts his head with a wide-eyed curious expression. Draco moves his robes to hide his now slowly-dying erection and pulls on Blaise's shirt to indicate to follow him, "Come on."

"Oh, is that for me Draco?" Blaise winks at Granger before following his friend.

"I really do fucking hate you sometimes," Draco sneers, knowing he's out of earshot from Granger.

"You know I wouldn't mind a show of it. Granger's rather attractive for a Mudblood."

Draco stops and shoots a death glare at Blaise.

"What?" Blaise says with a cautious worried expression.

"Don't fucking call her that." Darco warns.

Blaise nods his understanding with the same cautious expression.

Pointing with his thumb towards McGonagall's office, "McGonagall's ready for you by the way."

Draco shoves his fingers through his hair trying to regain some kind of resemblance of composure. He exhales a long breath before responding, "Right, thanks." He turns around to head to the Headmistress's office without saying goodbye to Blaise.

* . * . *

"You've got to be fucking joking!"

"I would not consider myself a humorous person, Draco. So, I can confirm that I am in fact not joking with you."

He glares at McGonagall, his hands balled into fists.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy," she extends her hand out expectantly waiting for his wand.

Draco curses her under his breath as he pulls his wand out from his robes to roughly place in her hand.

"I've been informed that you're only allowed to floo into Hogsmeade or use your elves to apparate onto the property. Now, just as a reminder of what I stated previously, I do expect you no later than this Saturday evening with all your belongings you should feel you need in tow for the semester."

Draco crosses his arms while rolling his eyes, facing his body away from her.

She continues, "You're well aware of the mandatory grieving sessions that will take place once a week for you and your friends. More can be provided if requested." She eyes him in an asking manner.

Draco, repulsed by the idea, voraciously shakes his head expressing his disgust.

Unphased by Draco's reaction, she nods and continues, "I would like to also remind you that this is your final year at Hogwarts and a sense of reconciliation amongst certain students is highly encouraged. But what's expected of you Mr. Malfoy is your full cooperation this year. We both know that the Ministry has given you a short rope of sorts and as much as you might not agree, I don't want to be the one who hangs you."

Draco, still wearing a scowl, looks over at his Headmistress.

She sighs with a sincere voice, "I don't know what your future entails, Draco, but I do wish that you try to enjoy the brief final moments of your time here. Hogwarts may not be your home, but there's always a place for you here."

* . * . * . * . * . *

Later that evening Pansy, Theo, Blaise and Draco are sitting in one of the many parlors of the manor shooting the shit.

"That old bat really confiscated your wand?" Theo asks, smirking and shaking his head in disbelief.

"Apparently the Ministry found it most appropriate and requested for McGonagall to take it during our meeting."

"Probably thought you'd make another attempt at killing another Hogwarts Headmaster." Pansy smirks at him, raising her small glass of firewhiskey at him, everyone chuckling.

"Yeah, only to also fail at that!" Blaise barks out.

Theo and Blaise clutching onto one another cackling wholeheartedly.

Draco deadpans Blaise, "As stated earlier today, I do fucking hate you sometimes."

Narcissa makes a pleasant sound, letting the gang know she's interrupted them. She's standing in the doorway wearing a genuine smile, a small array of sweets and drinks floating about near her shoulders.

"Please forgive my intrusion, I just wanted to offer you lot something before I retire for the evening," she flicks her wand, sending the offering to the coffee table in front of the group.

Theo lets out a soft moan, "Yes! Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. Your biscuits truly are one of my favorites!"

Narcissa's face lights up, her cheeks flush, "Thank you, Theodore. "

Mum has always had a soft spot for Theo.

Draco takes note of his mother's joyous grin. It's been a while since he's seen it.

"It's so nice to have company, right Mother?" Draco asks, acknowledging her smile.

She turns her head to her son, "Yes, Draco. I do miss hearing laughter in the manor. Anyway, I'm off for the rest of the evening. Please stay as long as you'd like." Still wearing her enormous grin, she glanced around the room at everyone.

The group bids their respected good evenings to Narcissa as she leaves.

"I do love your mother's sweets, Draco!" Blaise says grabbing a few biscuits and topping off his drink.

"Better than mine, Draco?" Pansy inquires with a knowing smirk.

Draco chuckles and shakes his head, "Of course not Pans. Yours are world class."

"Oi! How come I've never had these world class biscuits?" Theo asks Pansy.

"They're to be earned Theodore," she winks at Draco while answering Theo.

"Ew," Blaise says in a loud dull voice.

Everyone, besides Blaise laughs.

"But hey. Fucking grieving groups? You've got to be kidding me!" Pansy exclaims changing the subject.

The boys make a displeased and irritated groan in unison.