The Seine
The air off the Seine was cold but not biting. They had found a bench that looked out over the water and had stayed until the last of their coffees were gone and their fingers were numb. The sun hadn't quite set but the light had taken on a golden hue. Loops of red string stood out starkly against the stone pathway. It wove itself up the bench legs, twined around wrists and was held between fingers.
They had spoken more words to each other in a few hours than they had in all of their years of schooling. Not one of them was filled with the hate that used to coat so much of their language. Some of them had however been accompanied by tears.
Draco's apology to her had been thoughtful and more detailed than she had expected
ed. He told her how often he and his Mind Healer had discussed her. He explained the resentment he had held towards her for breaking down so many of his fundamental beliefs. That she eroded all of the ideals that had been drilled into him since birth. That had been drilled into his entire family line since it's very beginning.
She had not interrupted. Her silence began to make Draco nervous. Maybe he was doing it all wrong, saying it all wrong. She was usually so opinionated and was never one to hold back.
But she had stayed quiet through it all. Her shoulder pressed to his while they both looked at the river and he spoke. He spoke until the words ran dry. Then she slid her hand into his and entwined their fingers. She looked at him with the hazel eyes that he thought of too often and said, "Thank you. I forgave you a long time ago but thank you." He could only nod in response, unshed tears choking back his words.
Draco held his string tightly as he described his condition after Azkaban. Tear drops slid down Hermione's face as she listened.
"Why did you leave?" He asked her after a long silence.
"A number of reasons." She blew out a breath and shut her eyes. "Watching your trial and what happened after it, I realized so much of what we fought for hadn't changed. The anger and hate was just directed differently. The resentment and the corruption were still there."
"I'm sorry." No number of hours with a Mind Healer had helped him with the guilt of his next statement. "I'm sorry you lost your friends because of me."
Her head whipped around to face him. "I did not lose them because of you." She said it so firmly. "I did not and I can see on your face that it isn't the first time you've been told that."
She took a deep breath and he suppressed a smile. He could tell there was a Hermione Granger Rant coming along. He had seen and heard many of them, sometimes directed at him but this was the first time it felt like one was for him.
"My friends—" She ground out the word. "Chose to stay in a prejudiced mindset that I do not agree with. What Harry said during your trial—" She squeezed the hand she had not let go of, he had not realized that it felt like a permanent lifeline. "It sealed your sentencing. We all knew it. He as The Chosen One" The words came out bitter. "Had more sway than anyone else in that court room. And he knew it. He knew the kind of impact his words would have. Harry may not have known everything about you. About us—" She looked down at the red string that had wrapped itself around their wrists and a small smile crept across her face, cutting into her anger. It faded quickly. "I never told him about this. About the strings. But he knew how I felt about you going to Azkaban. He knew it was wrong too. He just let that old hate and rivalry take over."
Draco tried to let his own resentment of Harry Potter roll off his shoulders. He took three deep breaths. "I don't blame him." He huffed out a laugh at her disbelieving look. "Okay, I did blame him."
He thought back to his outlook just after Azkaban. "I blamed Potter for Azkaban. I blamed my father, for so many reasons. For instilling his beliefs in me, for my own Branding." He took a breath to steady himself. "I blamed Dumbledore. He knew what I was tasked with, knew I didn't want to do it and didn't offer to help me until literally the last moment." Hermione made a sound of agreement. She had many feelings on the old headmaster and not many were positive.
"But after two years and all of the Mind Healing, I finally accepted that I don't necessarily need to blame anyone. It all happened. I did terrible things." He cut her off as she tried to interrupt, an outraged look coming over her face. "I was forced to do some terrible things yes, but I still did them. I hurt people. People were hurt because of me. I have to own my part in that." He was quiet for a moment, absently running his thumb over her hand, brushing up against the string wound around them. "I wrote a lot of apology letters during my house arrest."
She looked at him quizzically. "Did you send them?"
"I did." Then he quickly added as he saw her face begin to fall. "I wrote you so many but I didn't want to say it all in a letter. It didn't feel like it was enough." He looked into her eyes and hoped he conveyed everything he felt. "Hurting you feels like the most terrible thing I've done. I know I apologized and you said you forgive me, which I honestly cannot thank you for enough. But it doesn't change the fact that it happened"
They were both quiet for a long while. The waves from the boats passing through the water the only sound to be heard.
"So what now?" She finally asked the question that had been swirling in her mind.
He quirked an eyebrow at her. False confusion written across his face.
She pushed through. She was a Gryffindor for a reason. "Well is this your in person letter that you're finally sending so you can get closure?" She unconsciously gripped his hand tighter. "Or is this—" Her heart stuttered. Bravery. She could—
He got there before she did. "I hope it's more than that."
His eyes were like liquid silver. She saw that same hope from the coffee shop swim in them now.
He took a breath and looked away from her, gathered his own courage.
"Would you like to have dinner with me?"
"Yes." The word was out of her mouth before he had finished the statement.
A beat passed between them before a smile broke across his face. It was breathtaking. She had never seen that smile on him before. Smirks. Sneers. The quirking of his lips when he'd successfully brewed a potion. But never this smile. It captivated her.
"I can cook for you, if you'd like?" He was trying to hold onto his confidence.
"You cook?"
Hermione looked at him with such a look of shock that he laughed. A full, beautiful laugh. "The elves taught me." His smile stayed. "Mother freed them after someone— convinced her." He looked at her with a mock accusatory glare, she met his gaze with a level one of her own. She had no issue debating House Elf rights. "They decided that I needed to learn to fend for myself. I think they were also bored. And enjoyed bossing someone around rather than being given orders themselves." Her heart warmed at his words and the grin that never left his face. "It was a lot like potions. So yes, Hermione, I cook."
The way he said her name, the way his eyes shone with a levity she had never seen in them before and that beautiful smile stole any response she might have had.
"What?" He finally asked as the silence stretched between them.
The look she gave him left Draco without words as well. She looked so focused, so intent. He had seen her with that look so many times. Absorbed in whatever she was reading. It had never been directed at him before.
"You have become a good man Draco Malfoy." Her voice was soft but strong. Her words gave him a courage Godric Gryffindor would have been proud of.
He reached with his free hand and tucked a curl that had been lazily flying by her face behind her ear. He heard her breath catch and saw her eyes flick to his mouth. He leaned in slowly. He wanted to give her the chance to pull away. It would hurt, but it had to be her choice too.
She did not pull away. When his hand found the side of her face and his thumb ran along her jaw she leaned into it.
When his lips did finally meet hers it did not feel like an ending. Hermione would think later how so many stories ended with a kiss and a Happily Ever After. But this kiss did not feel like an ending.
It was a beginning.
When they finally broke apart, she felt breathless but managed a question.
"So, dinner?"
Their string tugged them from the bench and his smile was answer enough.