A/N: For Valentine's Day, I present to you a chapter that contains… wait for it… platonic touching! Putting the 'slow' in 'slow burn' since early 2023.

Now that I think of it, does the phrase 'slow burn' refer to the number of chapters before you hit actual romantic interaction, or the passage of time within the story? Because it's really only been five days of story time. Who's to say? ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯


When they arrived at the edge of their campsite, the forest was mostly dark. Hermione and Malfoy had left their wands behind for the day's events, wanting to maintain the level of trust they'd fast-tracked with Unn. Fortunately for the two of them, they were near enough to camp by the time darkness fell that the lights—and sounds—had guided them the rest of the way.

Their farewell party, it seemed, was in full swing. Hermione heard the sound of upbeat music and raucous laughter bouncing around the clearing from the fire pit in the center of camp. She smiled at the thought of these almost-strangers sending the pair off with such celebration—either the research team truly cared about them after only a couple of days, or they would use any excuse to get completely pissed. Or both.

"Think we can sneak to the tent before anyone notices we're back?" she asked Malfoy quietly, turning to look at him. He raised an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes. "We've got to check in, and I want my wand." She looked down at her heavy jeans and hiking boots. "And more comfortable clothes."

Malfoy straightened his pack on his shoulders and nodded. "And they'll never let us leave once they see us," he agreed. "Come on, let's keep to the edges."

They made their way stealthily between the trees, approaching their tent from behind. They needn't have worried. Everyone was at the center of the campsite and having too much fun to have noticed their return so far from the fire's bright light. Shrugging at the wasted effort, she entered the tent and made her way to her gear. She heard Malfoy enter behind her and flop onto the ground with a small oomph.

"It's gonna be hard to get back up from this," he groaned, and Hermione turned to see him sprawled inelegantly over his sleeping bag.

"Never thought of you as a party pooper, Malfoy," she said lightly as she pulled her water bottle and wand toward her, trying to compose a message in her head that would sum up the enormity of today's events without filling her supervisor's desk with memos.

"Oh, I am definitely looking forward to throwing down with this crew tonight," Malfoy chuckled. "But it's so soft here, and even though we just walked a bit today, my body is absolutely exhausted."

"We did much more than 'walk a bit' today, Malfoy," Hermione shot back, a little irritated at the understatement. "It's just that most of it was mental exercise." She held up her fingers as she counted off. "Speaking respectfully while honoring the true nature of our mission. Asking the right questions. Experiencing a level of connection with a centaur that is unheard of for humans. Witnessing brand new connectivity magic." Her breath hitched in her throat and she instinctively brought a hand to her chest, feeling her heart pounding wildly as the magnitude of the day hit her like a wall of water. She suddenly felt clammy.

"Granger?"

"This is—" she wheezed, furious with her body for doing this to her again, in front of him again. "—absolute bullshit—panic attack?"

Malfoy chuckled again as he sat up and made his way toward her. "Relax," he said, putting his hand on the wrist that was still in her lap. "Can't be a panic attack if there's nothing to panic about, right?"

Hermione glared at him. That was definitely not right, an absolute oversimplification—but she tried to internalize it anyway.

"You're right," Malfoy continued as if nothing strange was happening, as if he wasn't holding her gaze and her wrist and her wits together with such calming intensity. "Today was overwhelming. It makes sense that I'd be tired." He squeezed her wrist softly. "And it makes sense that you'd be… er, we'll call it tense."

Hermione let out a shaky laugh, feeling her chest loosen as her breathing began to regulate. She pulled gently out of his grasp and rubbed her face before running both hands through her hair. He leaned back on his knees.

"I say we just pop all that somewhere else," he said, moving his hands to shove their imaginary baggage clear off to one side, "to be dealt with over many years and, I'm sure, plenty of research. For now, we can let the energy out in a less productive but more immediate way." He paused. "I'm not sure if you're aware of this, Granger, but this was a very unique experience. We deserve to celebrate tonight."

Hermione let out a huff and glared at him. "It's weird knowing you like this," she said bluntly. He gave her a wry smile.

"Yeah, well, for what it's worth, it's weird being known like this."

She looked at him for a moment before shrugging, then grabbed her water bottle from where it had rolled to and stood up. "I'll touch base while you change? Then we can swap."

He nodded, and she stepped out of the tent.

Okay, message, she thought. Just figure out the message.

By the time Malfoy exited the tent wearing loose jeans and a high-collared black sweater, she was reading over what she'd written.

She turned the bottle to face him as he approached and cocked her head in question. He stepped closer, squinting a bit to make out the words through the darkness.

"'Meeting successful! Could not have imagined a more productive encounter. Feeling infinitely more prepared for our attempted engagements with merfolk in the coming week.'" He glanced up at her and took a step back. "Well, that about sums it up," he said. "Yet somehow I get the feeling he'll want to know more."

"Well, he'll get a full report when we get back," she replied, a little haughtily. "There's only so much space on a water bottle and we agreed ahead of time that we'd only communicate for necessary updates. If we can go the next eight days with minimal magic, he can handle that time with minimal information." Sending the message with a tap of her wand, Hermione walked to the tent. "I'll be out in a minute."

She paused before stepping inside. It had only been five days and she was already weirdly comfortable around him. "Not that you have to wait, of course," she clarified. "I'm sure I can follow the sounds of drunken celebration well enough on my own."

Malfoy let out a noncommittal grunt and Hermione shrugged, ducking into the tent.

When she emerged a few minutes later, notebook in hand, dressed in her coziest sweatpants and a blue Weasley sweater she had snagged from George who-knows-how-long ago, Malfoy was leaning against a nearby tree with his eyes closed, hands anchored in his front pockets.

"Ready?"

He started a little at her voice, eyes darting open. "I thought women were supposed to take ages to change," he grumbled. Clearly he'd been settling in for a quick kip.

"You know," Hermione said sweetly, "if you're really that tired, maybe you should just turn in." She smiled at him as she passed. "I'm sure the team will understand."

"Cheeky," she heard him mutter as he fell into step beside her.

They were nearing the festivities when Hermione felt an arm loop into hers—and it wasn't Malfoy's. She instinctively jumped closer to him with a small shriek of surprise before realizing it was Luna, who had materialized on her other side without so much as making a sound.

Luna said, "Welcome back!" at the same time that Malfoy shouted, "Merlin, Lovegood!" and Hermione couldn't help the breathless laugh that escaped.

"Where did you even come from?" she asked, giving her friend's arm a hug with her own.

"Oh, I went for a walk," Luna said airily. "Sometimes when I'm with a large group, I lose myself a bit in the crowd." She shrugged. "I like to make sure I'm not gone for too long."

"Well, welcome back to you, too, then," Malfoy grumbled, still rubbing a hand over his chest.

She positively beamed at him.

Suddenly, they heard a shout from up ahead, followed by a drunken cheer.

"Tonight is for celebrating," Luna said with a smile as the gangly figure of David came bounding toward them. "Now what can I get you to drink?"

The next couple of hours featured a delightful barrage of interactions. David, of course, had immediately wormed his way between Hermione and Malfoy, hooking his arms in theirs as he rattled off question after question about the day's events. Christopher was watching from a nearby armchair, quill and notebook in hand as he took down what they said, while the rest of the team lobbed the occasional question as their curiosity was piqued.

They had handled David's enthusiastic curiosity surprisingly well, Hermione thought, providing high-level overviews while using the very legitimate excuse of diplomatic integrity to avoid sharing a detailed account of their experiences. In truth, Hermione wasn't sure how to handle the dissemination of what they'd been privileged to witness in Unn's colony since arriving in the Forest of Dean. She opened her notebook to the back where she had been logging future considerations and jotted down Integrity of sharing centaur experiences.

She was cuddling into a cushy loveseat (Luna had taken the initiative to transfigure it from an armchair as soon as the three of them had returned to the fire) when Jodie approached with two steaming mugs.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, offering Hermione one of the beverages. "I brought my specialty, hot-and-heavy cocoa." Feeling plenty relaxed already, Hermione smiled and reached for the proffered drink with a small laugh.

"Why Jodie, whatever could have inspired such a name?"

Jodie smiled as she took the seat next to Hermione. "I know, it sounds rather suggestive," she said with a grin. "But 'spiked' seems so juvenile, like something we'd do at a Hogwarts dance." She shrugged. "And the firewhisky does tend to sink to the bottom if you don't stir it from time to time, so really it's perfectly innocent."

"Well, cheers," Hermione said pleasantly, clinking their mugs together. "I'm sorry to say I don't remember you from school. Is that terrible?"

Jodie smiled brightly as she crossed her legs under her. "Oh, not at all! We never had any classes together or anything. It was just…" her smile turned a little awkward. "Well, I mean it's not like anyone at Hogwarts didn't know who you were."

Hermione felt her face heat up a bit and took a sip of her cocoa. No matter how much time had passed, she didn't think she would ever get used to the recognition that came with being Harry Potter's best friend.

"You were a real inspiration my third year," Jodie continued, apparently unaware of Hermione's discomfort. "There was so much going on, with the other schools visiting and Harry's name ending up in the Goblet of Fire and Viktor Krum walking around Hogwarts' halls and I'm sure you were helping Harry prepare for the tasks… but it was like you didn't even care," Jodie said, turning in her seat to face Hermione directly. "All of that drama and excitement and you just…" she looked at Hermione with what she had come to recognize as awe. She shifted uncomfortably and Jodie continued, "you just went and started a campaign for house-elf rights."

Hermione couldn't stop her jaw from dropping at that.

Jodie continued unfazed. "I'd never really considered it, you know? I was raised in a pureblood wizarding home that had two house-elves on staff—Hessy and Poldo. They'd been in my family since before I was born, and I never really questioned the situation. But when—" she glanced across the fire and Hermione followed her gaze to where Malfoy was chatting with Forrest. "When some of our housemates got ahold of your pins to, erm, adjust them a bit in support of Cedric," Jodie said delicately, and Hermione snorted at the oh-so-Slytherin presentation of the truth, "I started looking into it more. I actually did join S.P.E.W. anonymously, but I couldn't exactly support it publicly without being ostracized." She looked up quickly, a bit of panic on her face. "That must sound terribly privileged. Not making a stand for what I believed in to avoid tension with my fellow Slytherins."

Hermione smiled compassionately and reached out to briefly squeeze Jodie's hand. "It's hard to loudly support an unpopular opinion no matter who you are," she said. "And it can be even harder when you have an established community that holds certain expectations of you. In a way, I was lucky." Her eyes found Malfoy again as she thought back to the prick who had done his level best to make her Hogwarts years miserable. He was watching her. She looked back to Jodie before continuing. "I didn't have many friends, and everyone expected me to be a bit clueless with how the wizarding world worked anyway. So when I started challenging it, I was mostly written off as an idiot, or given a pat on the head and sent on my way." She rolled her eyes. "Change is slow to come but worth working toward. I just wish someone had tried to have a productive conversation with me about how I might adjust my approach to actually achieve progress, instead of just telling me I was barmy for even trying."

"Well, I'm certainly glad you tried," Jodie said, relaxing back into the cushions. "It started me asking questions that I hadn't even thought to consider before. I held secret meetings with Hessy and Poldo when I was home on break and I asked them whether they liked serving our family, and how things could be better for them. I started being more intentional with my requests and thanking them more directly for their services. I was almost disinherited when my mum caught me helping them clean up after a family party in my fifth year." She laughed, the sweet sound of tinkling crystal, and for the first time Hermione was able to see a hint of the pureblood girl she must have been at Hogwarts.

"But after several awkward conversations with her and my father both, we all sat down together with the elves and had a household meeting." Jodie rolled her eyes in amusement. "I don't know who was more uncomfortable with the idea of speaking as equals, my parents or Hessy and Poldo."

This time when Jodie laughed, Hermione joined in. Her heart had been lifting higher and higher as Jodie had told her story, and now she felt like it was soaring somewhere behind her eyes. Sure, she had worked on plenty of legislation for changes in the legal status and treatment of house-elves since gaining employment in the Department of Magical Creature Representation, and the wizarding world had made great strides in those areas since the war's end. But something about hearing Jodie's experiences and realizing that her individual efforts, which were largely sneered at and discounted, had made an impact on an individual witch—then the house-elves who served her family, and then her family and household as a unit—made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

She was already getting a bit teary (it's been a long week, dear) when Jodie shifted in her seat again, leaning forward. "You advocated for their welfare and treatment even when you had very little support," she said earnestly. "You're the reason I signed up for Care of Magical Creatures with Professor Hagrid in my fourth year, which got me into magizoology and working respectfully with all types of magical beings. I'm… very proud to say you inspired me even before you had saved the wizarding world."

Well, if you don't count helping Harry reach the Philosopher's Stone or solving the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets or rescuing an innocent Order member from a fate worse than death…

Double-checking that she had only said that last bit in her head, Hermione smiled brightly at Jodie.

"Thank you so much for saying so," she said. "I'm glad to have been able to meet you properly these past couple of days. Your team is doing such incredible work. Malfoy and I never would've made the progress we did without the strong foundation of trust you all have built with Unn's colony."

At that moment, they were interrupted by a slurred, "Wands at the ready!"

Hermione's head snapped up as she slipped her wand from her leg holster in one fluid movement. Old habits, her mind sighed as she caught sight of David and Malfoy facing off, wands raised as they laughed.

"Get in on this, Granger," Malfoy called over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving David's.

"I'm all set on dueling, thanks," she replied lightly, snuggling deeper into the loveseat and contenting herself to watch. Truly, it had been years since she'd been in a proper duel, and she didn't want her competitive nature to ruin an otherwise pleasantly relaxed evening.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and slid his wand into the holster around his waist. "We're not dueling," he said, making his way to where she was sitting. "I've no intention of getting grievously wounded because a bunch of drunks—" he shouted the last word behind him and David booed in response—"thought it'd be fun to start throwing hexes." Hermione straightened up in her seat and eyed his approach warily. "We're practicing."

"Practicing," Hermione repeated, deadpan.

"Yes, Granger, practicing. 'Scuse me, Ryder." Malfoy maneuvered past Jodie and held out his hand to Hermione. "How else do you suppose we'll master the art of underwater bowing?"

She perked up further at that. "I'm listening."

"Well stop listening and start helping," Malfoy huffed, reaching forward and pulling her up by the arm. "We need to figure out the best way to do this without going for a swim—or breaking our necks."

Hermione laughed as she stood to follow him. But she'd been sitting on her feet for quite a while at this point, and she didn't realize that her legs were asleep from the knee down until she was stumbling heavily against Malfoy as he led her back to the small group that had formed.

"Damn, Granger, never thought of you as a lightweight," he grunted, shifting his arm around her shoulder to help support her weight.

"Sod off," she grumbled, "my legs have fallen asleep. I'm perfectly sober." He laughed and she took a moment to reflect. "Well, not perfectly sober. But I'm certainly not stumbling drunk."

"Whatever you say," he said cheerfully and gestured to the assembled team. "After what they witnessed this week, they'd follow your lead even if you were stumbling drunk." Then he turned to face them.

"Attention, everyone! The Brightest Witch of Her Age is going to lead this lesson, so you had all better be on your best behavior."

This statement was met with cheers and whistles and Hermione laughed as she shook out the remaining needles from her legs. "Alright then, class" she clapped her hands in her best impression of Professor Flitwick, sending Luna into a peal of delighted giggles. "Everyone remember your basic levitation charm? Win-gar-dium levi-o-sa, swish and flick. Now partner up!"

Luna drifted over to her. "I've always enjoyed practicing magic with you, Hermione," she said contentedly. "It's nice to do so in a non-life-threatening capacity." Malfoy snorted from where he stood as David rejoined him.

"Everyone cast a cushioning charm in your partner's general space!" Jodie had wandered over and was standing opposite Christopher, appraising the situation with a look of amusement. "Can't have you lushes all cracking your skulls."

"That's why this one's in strategy!" Char called from her seat across the fire, pointing at Jodie with fierce approval but otherwise making no move to join them. Forrest laughed a few seats away and leaned back to observe.

"Right," said Hermione when everyone had finished idiot-proofing their spaces. "We're going to be taking turns levitating one another a couple feet above the ground. The person being levitated will be attempting 'a low bow of deep respect.' You'll start in a vertical position with your feet held together as though a tail. When you bow—" Hermione gave a theatrical bow, stepping back and spreading her arms openly behind her—"your 'tail' will form an arc so that your feet end up above your head, your chest and face parallel with the ground.

"The message to convey with your entire body and all your intent is deference," Malfoy added. "Bit of a challenge, really, because if they don't believe we're placing all of our trust in them, they might cause us physical harm."

Hermione shot him a dirty look. He wasn't wrong, but did he have to be so pessimistic about it?

"Well then we'll just have to actually believe that we trust and respect them implicitly, so they in turn believe us, won't we?" she shot back. David and Christopher each let out a low "ooooh" and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Actually, Granger, I'm still not sure I can imagine the posture," Malfoy said, crossing his arms with a smirk. "Maybe you could show us?"

Hermione swallowed. She loved the idea of practicing, and she loved even more the idea of practicing in the midst of a group so she wasn't the center of attention. Call it a product of her reputation, but Hermione didn't like doing things in front of people that she wasn't already somewhat confident that she could do. And coordination while airborne was certainly not on her list of skills.

But she would never in a million years turn down a challenge from Malfoy, no matter how weirdly kind and supportive he'd been this week.

She smiled sweetly at him and turned to her partner. "Luna?"

/\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\

After they had all mastered the art of drunken merfolk bowing (or collapsed laughing in their efforts), Hermione and Malfoy begged off from the festivities, using the very valid excuse of an early boat to catch the next day. Instead of traveling by muggle means, Char would see them off in the morning, apparating them to their next location to avoid disrupting their agenda any further. David looked ready to throw himself around Malfoy's ankle again, but either by sheer force of will or drunken exhaustion managed to refrain and settled for a handshake instead. Hermione hugged Luna tightly, promising to meet up the next time her friend was in London.

When they'd finally managed to break away, Hermione summoned her hygiene bag with a lazy accio and headed towards the blue tent, weaving slightly, to brush her teeth and shower.

/\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\

Malfoy was already lying in his sleeping bag, eyes unfocussed, when she entered their tent a quarter of an hour later. His gear was neatly stacked against the back wall, ready to go for their early start tomorrow. She knelt on her side of the tent and gathered her things together as well, piling them next to his for quick access in the morning.

"Hemera," he said, almost dreamily, as she crawled into her sleeping bag. Hermione snorted at just how much he sounded like Luna in that moment. He turned onto his side and shifted up on one elbow. "Why did she call you that?"

HEMERA

She let her eyes drift shut and the name floated behind her closed eyelids, the font changing languidly from block letters to lowercase to script in the most soothing way.

"Mmm," Hermione said, following the flow of the ink in her mind. "That's what they called me during the war."

She relaxed into the comfortable silence that followed… until she realized that no, it definitely wasn't comfortable. Because what she'd just said was in no way normal. The self-consciousness Hermione normally felt at being incredible—because she was, and she knew that—was nowhere to be found, dulled by a night of celebratory drinking. Her eyes opened lazily at the realization and she turned, propping her head up on her hand. Malfoy was, in fact, staring at her, looking as though he had only recently remembered to close his mouth.

"It's a very odd thing," she said directly. "I'd never imagined myself to be that important."

Malfoy recovered with a shake of his head. "Well of course you're that important, Granger," he said incredulously. "You do realize you're publicly acknowledged as one of the key players in the downfall of a twice-risen, virtually immortal, basically soulless tyrant?"

"Well in the wizarding world, yes, of course!" she shot back, and Malfoy chuckled and whispered what sounded suspiciously like Muffliato. "But this… they're so…" she gestured wildly with one hand, not really sure what she was trying to communicate, but Malfoy seemed to understand.

"Bloody impressive is what it is, Granger, and you know it," he said, rolling his eyes. "It seems you garner praise and recognition wherever you go. I cannot tell you how delighted I am to exist in the enormity of your shadow once more."

Hermione snorted indelicately, finding his gaze. Her expression turned serious. "Merlin, in school, you were just…" she sighed and shook her head, watching his mouth harden into a thin line. She only felt a little guilty. "You were so much fun to be better than."

This time, she was watching as Malfoy's jaw dropped. He sputtered indignantly and she laughed, lying down again and rolling her shoulders against the oh-so-wonderful cushioning charm on the ground.

"What I think is odd," Malfoy said after a time, and Hermione started a bit—she'd apparently been falling asleep—"is how close the two names are. Hemera. Hermione. Not too similar etymologically, of course, beyond their Greek origins. Meanings are totally different. But somehow that makes it all the more peculiar."

Several thoughts flitted through Hermione's mind as she turned onto her side to look at him once more. I've never heard him say my name before fought for prominence with He is absolutely sloshed and just pronounced 'etymologically' perfectly. But what she said was, "What does it mean?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. "She's the personification of fucking day, Granger."

Hermione felt her cheeks flush, pride and embarrassment adding to what alcohol had long since started. The personification of day. She coughed to cover her smile and instead offered a delicate, "Oh."

He snorted, and she felt her smile widen.

"And what was it she called you? Soter, was it?"

"Ah, yeah, she must've been a bit rushed on that one."

"Go on, then."

There was a long pause, and then: "A daimon of safety and deliverance." Malfoy's voice had hardened, his eyes narrowed in bitterness. "The personification of preservation from harm."

The silence was definitely uncomfortable.

"Oh!" Hermione said suddenly. "That reminds me! Thanks for pulling me back me from an unintentional swim tonight." She gave a brilliant, exaggerated smile and he laughed, his posture relaxing as he shifted onto his back.

"Merlin, tonight was incredible, wasn't it?" he said, tucking his hands under his head. "That song…" Malfoy started humming, his voice low and dissonant. It wasn't quite what they had heard today, but it felt like a distant echo of the tune that had called to her so soothingly. She sighed and let his melody relax her body even further.

"You know," she said after he'd drifted into silence. "It is possible to sleep comfortably in a muggle tent."

"Bollocks," Malfoy yawned. "It's clearly a barbaric practice driven by the masochistic desire to suffer."

Hermione chuckled. "Suit yourself," she said sleepily. "But we'll be tent camping again before you know it, and this time, no cushioning charms."

Malfoy groaned. "Fine, Granger," he huffed. "What's your secret?"

"Side sleeping," she said, snuggling into the downy fabric and facing the tent wall, resting her head on the crook of her elbow. "And lose the pillow if you can't get comfortable with it." She yawned widely. "It's amazing how quickly the human body adjusts to using itself as cushioning."

Malfoy snorted, clearly unconvinced. "Whatever you say," he muttered, but from the shuffling sounds that came from his side of the tent, she was nearly positive he was putting her suggestion to practice. Hermione felt a smile tug at her lips.

"'Night, Malfoy," she mumbled softly, and quickly slipped into sleep.