authorsnotes: an update before the end of the year!
thank you to the lovely reception to the first chapter! and so we continue.
I anticipate this being long, a slowburn (except for draco aha), with lots of flights of fancy, charming cups of tea and monsters that want to eat hermiones eyeballs! sound like your thing? do subscribe!
songrecs: the ballad of lucy gray baird - rachel zegler
Species Classification: Wizard (male).
Description: A man who has magical powers, or meaning wonderful/excellent.
Verb: How absolutely wizard!
'Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards for they are subtle and quick to anger'
- J.R.R Tolkein, a muggle, talking to an amused Albus Dumbledore at a muggle writers retreat (a favourite pastime of the eccentric Headmaster)
-x-
Hermione was quite sure she'd been clobbered around the back of the head.
After all, there could be little other explanation for why Draco Malfoy, Wizengmont member, aristocrat, reformed Death Eater (said mark was covered, it was always covered), was on her doorstep. Said doorstep being a freezing, snow blocked place in the middle of remote Norway, forwhere the snowstorm was really whipping up well … a storm.
So perhaps she'd been smacked by the door when she'd opened it, Malfoy had now wrestled it shut with the air of a man who seemed a bit baffled himself (but hid it well, even she couldn't really tell), or maybe this wasn't Malfoy but some magical shapeshifting creature (exciting!) that had knocked her out and then induced hallucinations, perhaps she'd simply had some kind of magical ailment that was making her see things.
It was ill advised but she raised her fingertips to Malfoy, almost like a wary observer looking at something inexplainable and mad, she was half convinced he was an apparition, and yet as she brushed her fingers over the expensive fabric of his robes, he was here, solid, real.
So not an apparition, the working theory would have to be some kind of shapeshifter.
After all there was no universe in which Draco Malfoy could actually be here.
"What grade did you get in Potions in third year?" She blurted out, an odd question to ask for sure, but one suitably difficult enough to throw off any potential shapeshifter.
She was already circling through her mind in how best to deal with a shapeshifter, ideally in a way she could interrogate it, surely such an amazing creature would warrant a chunky chapter in her new book.
So, no permanent damage or maiming, she cocked her head, a sleep spell? Or paralysis? Many options really, all more interesting than the last.
"96% to your 100" Malfoy drawled in such a Malfoy like drawl she wasn't sure a shapeshifter could imitate that "And stop looking at me like you're about to knock me out, I assure you I am Draco Malfoy"
"That is exactly what a non-Draco Malfoy would say" She threw back, because it was really.
"No, a non-Draco Malfoy would surely overly protest or say anything reassuring" He countered, and Hermione sighed because he was probably right, meaning she was wrong, and she hated little else than that.
"Or the non-Draco could be acting the opposite to how a shapeshifter would act to throw me off" Hermione threw back.
"Or, presuming said shapeshifter had done his or her research by torturing me with a spot of legilimens and more, they would see that is exactly how your brain works and do the opposite" His drawl didn't break a beat.
"The opposite of shouting?" Hermione asked, she rarely got lost in conversation, usually she was the one running people around in circles but with Malfoy it was quite different.
Quite different indeed.
In fact she'd noticed this the handful of times they'd spoken at the Ministry (she doing thankless work for no money, he swanning about the place whilst sitting in his inherited Ministry seat, or at least she presumed he was swanning, she didn't see him much), he was like this, able to match her toe for toe, something she both hated and found quite exciting, it being such a rarity and all.
Exciting if it were not Draco Malfoy, who though childhood hatred may have given away to indifference she still aired on the side of disliking.
"No, surely I'd continue with reassurance, as I am, because its what you'd least expect and so expect" Again he didn't miss a beat, and Granger frowned.
Frowned, something she didn't like to do much, trying to stay positive and all, but she frowned.
So, Draco Malfoy (presuming he wasn't a shapeshifter, she had to admit, unfortunately his arguments were sound), was here, had perhaps just beaten her in an argument, and had done so without breaking a sweat, or missing a beat.
She wasn't sure how to feel about that.
Thankfully she was given a reprieve as a crack of thunder sounded outside, and she jumped in the air, Crooks scuttled under the sofa, and Malfoy seemed to take a step towards her.
Odd.
This entire thing was odd, perhaps they were both hallucinating, perhaps she was asleep and this was all a dream, perhaps she'd gone insane.
All seemed more viable than this scene, Draco Malfoy a step closer to her, Crooks with a hiss, and she, feeling completely off kilter, being real.
"If I accept you are you … " She began, but warily.
"How generous of you" He quipped and was met quickly with a glare, she didn't like to be mocked or interrupted.
"Then what in merlins name are you doing here?"
His answer was even more odd.
Insane indeed.
To understand why Draco Malfoy, Wizengmont member, aristocrat, reformed (mostly) Death Eater (mostly in that he was done with blood purity, done with ever speaking to his Father again, but still quite liked a bit of a illegal magic in a useful situation), was on Hermione Grangers (brilliant scholar, harpy) doorstep, you had to go back exactly one month, one week and three days.
It was quite complicated.
"I need you to go to Norway"
Actually, it was quite simple.
Dead simple really.
"Norway?" Malfoy asked, eyebrow raised, wondering how Harry Potter of all people (boy wonder, rising star in the Auror office, still reckless, still irritatingly good), had found him here, in the bowls of the Ministry archives, alone, awaiting a Wizengmont session, but relishing being, well, alone.
He often did nowadays, in truth more often than not.
No one knew he came here, no one knew he could barely tolerate people nowadays, or rather could barely tolerate the people whose families he'd put in prison, the people who sneered at him and then flinched in succession, could barely stand the women after his looks or his money or both, or the people after favors, or fame or anything he wanted well out of.
He wanted well out of most things now though.
It was strange, being a Malfoy, fallen out of favor, but still a Malfoy, still disgustingly richer than most of Wizarding Britain combined, still looked to as a leader in the Wizengmont, even if his Father had been forced into retirement as part of his parole, Draco inheriting the seat (and ignoring any well meaning advice from said Father he no longer spoke to), still relevant, still important, but dangerous, hated, reviled by the blood purists, looked upon as a potential to be redeemed by the side of the light who desperately wanted to enact change and couldn't do so without the Wizengmonts sign off.
A Wizengmont he had a startling amount of power in.
Something he didn't want nor thought he should have.
Like Granger, with her bills about magical creatures, her crest fallen face flashed across his memory as Potter said her name, as he thought of how devastated she'd been to have her House Elf bill shot down, but how (and he admired her for it), she didn't dare cry, but promised she'd be back.
He didn't admire many people, but he admired Granger, hatred for her fallen away, he could admire.
From a far, from a purely intellectual perspective, from a place of that she had purpose and he none.
None at all.
"Malfoy are you listening?"
He most certainly hadn't been, he'd heard Granger and his mind had wandered, to her brown eyes, wide with both fury and devastation as the Wizengmont had shot her down, he hadn't said a word, the bill hadn't even made it to vote, and it was not his area.
He'd told off one of the more patronizing of the objectioners after she'd left, the look in her eye lingering.
It had lingered ever since.
She had just looked … heartbroken, but also furious, a deadly combination, and one he hadn't seen often. Few people could charge from disappointment to righteous anger and determination in one swing and yet she had.
But then she'd always been extraordinary, he'd just been too much of a fool to see it.
Well, he'd been a fool about a lot of things back … then, he still was in many ways.
"Malfoy!" Potter interrupted his musings again and Malfoy, a renowned legilimens (renowned to himself for his incredible skill, otherwise he kept it quiet, he didn't need people knowing he might be the best legilimens this side of the world after Voldemort and good old Snape had passed on, no he didn't need anyone knowing that at all), pulled his mind together and forced himself to focus.
And occlude, he knew Potter couldn't know a scrap of legilimens, but it was always good to be careful, and Occulmency was so innate to him it was easy to snap his barriers into place.
They'd come a bit undone, thinking of … well, her.
That had become a problem of recent, one he should rectify.
But first Potter, and ?
"Norway?" He asked again, eyebrow raised, drawl in place, he didn't give a smidge away, he never did, "Why Norway?"
"I have a friend in trouble up there, they need help, I can't get it off work, we're tracking Dolohov at the moment, you know he slipped out at the final battle? And we're real close, so I can't take any time off, but you don't work – "
"Rude" He interrupted, but it was true, Malfoys didn't work.
One of the many things wrong with them, on reflection, and he'd been doing much reflection since the wars end.
Much indeed.
"But you don't, and so you can go, and this person needs a good wizard to help them, and as much as I hate to admit it –"
"I'm better than good" He didn't make a habit of interrupting people, that was rude, but with Potter there were one too many things he had to rectify to resist the urge, a good wizard? Was Potter blind, deaf and dumb? If so, Malfoy should inform the Auror Office their best and brightest wasn't dueling with a full stack.
"Fine, whatever, I just need you to go" Potter repeats, and Malfoy scoffs.
"And why do you think I would? We're not friends Potter" He doesn't have friends, except maybe Theo and Blaise, but even then his self-loathing limits him from relying on that, he's self-aware enough for that at least.
Not for much else, not about her, not yet at least.
"It doesn't matter" Potter continues, and then he gets a glint in his eye, a glint that reminds Malfoy this was the man that defeated Voldemort, the monster who still gives him nightmares. He reminds himself not to underestimate Harry Potter, and to do so would be his peril.
Malfoy may be proud, but hes not stupid.
Especially, as following said glint, Potter proves hes not just brave, and reckless, and all of those things Malfoy already knew (and loathed many), he's competent.
Perish the thought.
As he says …
"Because you owe me"
Damn him.
Because Malfoy does, he owes him completely.
He remembers the trials, remembers the Wizengmont and the Courts excusing him for his age (something he disagreed with, he'd known, but he hardly wanted to be locked up and thus had kept his mouth shut), stripping his Father of everything that mattered and two years in Azkaban to boot, but it was his Mother, his Mother he'd worried for, and always had.
Half the things in the war, when it was clear blood purity was horseshit, and Voldemort was a mad man, had been done to save her, what an effective tool the Dark Lord had realized he'd had, a mention of Narcissa and Malfoy had been a willing and very able soldier.
And once again, as the Courts had mumbled, and Draco had tried to push past his to his Mother holding strong, hands manacled, had offered to go to Azkaban in her place, until Potter, good, glorious Potter had stood up, not even in the Wizengmont, and announced Narcissa Malfoy, for her sacrifices, for saving him, should be found innocent.
And so she was, rang in as free of guilt in the next declaration, you didn't go against Harry Potter, not if you wanted to be voted back in, not if you didn't want Butotuber Pus mailed to your house for the next six months. It was a shame Potter didn't want to be Minister; he could run now at just 20 and win by a landslide.
But all in all, Narcissa and Draco walked free, their Father spent a year in the cell (even he was too powerful, too rich to lock up for good, feelings included, Draco thought they should have thrown away the key), and Draco knew he owed Potter, knew he owed him and then some.
Two- and a-bit years since the war, his Father had been out for one month and Malfoy had been wondering when Potter would cash in on the favor.
And what a favor it was.
Honestly, part of Draco hadn't thought he would, he was too righteous for that, which meant this had to be serious, which meant Potter was worried, really worried, and this friend really was in trouble, big trouble.
Still …
"I need you to do this, she's … she's quit her job, and insisting this will work, and she's so brilliant it might, but she's many things, brilliant like I said, but she's not a duelist, and its dangerous out there, and she didn't tell any of us, knowing we'd stop her and … "
"I'll go"
Because he knew Potter, he knew only a few people would make him this worried, and knew Potter had a handful of close female friends who would be deemed 'brilliant'
It couldn't be the Weasley girl, she had a mean bat bogey hex, not a duelist indeed.
Which meant it could only be one person indeed.
It was her.
"I'll do it, and then no more owes" He said, mostly to save face, mostly to force himself to occlude, mostly to ensure Potter didn't see the flicker across his grey gaze.
Mostly …
"Of course" Potter replied, they shook on it, and that had been …
Three days ago.
And now he was here, and Grangers brown gaze was trained on him, and what was he supposed to say? And were those flecks of gold around her eyes and … ?
Thankfully he was given reprieve (one of the few in his life), from answering, by the door being near ripped off its hinges, another crack of thunder, and the sound of the window smashing.
Both had their wands out in an instant.
"You the window, I'll do the door" Granger spoke brusquely, and Malfoy shook his head, though he admired her logical head.
He admired a lot about her actually.
"You get near the table, it's one of the least vulnerable points in the room" Malfoy said glancing over the room, he'd had no Auror training (Malfoys didn't have jobs), but he'd all but been a child soldier, second in DADA to only wunderkid Potter, and second in every other class to Granger, he knew what he was doing.
And Potter had given him a job, one he was more than capable of doing.
And was doing for more than a favor owed.
"I'll take care of these" He said, a flick of his wand at the ready, he jabbed it harshly to smack the door shut and added a bracing charm, this storm had magic on its air, and he knew reinforcing was as important as fixing.
It often was.
"I am quite capable - " Granger bristled, and he near grinned, a close run (and terrifying thing), he was well aware of how capable she was.
Too much so, that was what had started all of this.
"I'm well aware of that, but that's not what you're here for is it?" He asked, and Grangers brow scrunched, how many people had baffled her twice in one hour? He felt he should make a note of it, perhaps he'd be awarded a certificate for the feat.
"Well – " She began, and Malfoy, being the rude one now cut her off as he repaired the window and added a strengthening charm with a wave.
"No, you're here to study magical creatures" He continued, another wave reinforced the second window, and then he turned back to Granger as she bristled again, it was a thing to watch, and one he relished, watching her that was.
He was thankful he could occlude easily here, though meeting Grangers eyes again promised to unravel it all.
"I'm here to do a bit more than study" She said outraged at his pedestrian phrasing, "I'm here to create a magical compendium to secure creature rights and – "
"Yes" He said with a nod, and "And I'm here to protect you whilst you do so"
Now he had the benefit of seeing Granger baffled twice, and furious once.
A certificate indeed.
(If he survived the hex no doubt coming his way).
(Which he did easily deflecting it, and he realized Potter was right, Granger was many brilliant things but no duelist).
He'd be staying, and as Granger demanded he leave, he realized he would have to explain why.
And do so whilst looking into those brown eyes that left him babbling.
so thoughts?
dracos ... reasons for those mushy feelings will make themselves known
oh and if it isn't obvious, no one can make draco malfoy do anything if he doesnt want to, take from that what you will ...
do enjoy, do review if you can!
do subscribe! and happy new year!