Interhouse Fest 2016: Where Home Is (5 of 5)
Chapter 5
The next morning, Hermione woke up with a severely throbbing head, feeling disoriented, while her eyes refused to open in the bright morning light. Was it really morning? She didn't know, having lost her sense of time in her attempt to drown herself in alcohol. She groaned, and tried to remember how she got back home last night-it was a bit hazy, but somehow Draco had been involved. Draco! Hell yes, she had left him a note not to bother waiting for her to come out, and then he just picked her up... That was when she noticed that she wasn't alone in the bed but had arms wrapped around her as if protecting her from something. He had stayed. She opened her eyes carefully one by one but was still blinded by the light for a moment; she let out another groan as her head started throbbing even more. After a deep breath-and with sheer will-she was able to keep her eyes open and look down. Yes, that were his hands, lying protectively around her waist; she had to smile at the fact that he made sure that they were placed in safe spots, like a gentleman. She could hear him breathe behind her, even felt the breath brush over the skin on her neck. As weird as this might have looked, most probably, to others, she hadn't felt as comfortable and safe in months-just because he had been there when she had needed him. He, of all people. He had caught her; he was letting her feel safe now. Why was it so hard to understand that he had taken the chance to change, to open up to her? That war questioned everyone's world-view and changed people? She intertwined her fingers with his, and nestled up closer to him.
"Hey," he whispered sleepily when he noticed her shifting. "Feeling better?"
She smiled gently. "Head hurts."
"I figure. Didn't know you could stomach that much alcohol without passing out. You do remember that you threw up in front of your house?"
“I did?”
“Yes.” He let his thumb run over hers. “I could put something together for your head if you want...”
"I've got something in the kitchen. Just too comfortable to get up," she replied softly, enjoying his gentle strokes on her thumb.
"Hm-hm..."
Hermione could feel him brush a kiss on her neck, and it sent a shiver down her spine. "Hmm... That's nice."
"Couldn't resist, sorry."
“Hm-hm... Your lips are so soft, you know?” she whispered, licking hers; she had really loved how his lips had felt the last time they had kissed-though she was quite sure they hadn't kissed the night before.
“I know.”
“Wish you would continue,” she murmured, pressing his hand in encouragement; she didn't really think that he would repeat that kiss on her shoulder, or do even more, but that didn't mean she couldn't hope for it.
"Could you turn around?" he asked, letting out a small sigh.
She nodded, and then-groaning rather deeply from the renewed throbbing in her head-she eventually managed to turn around to face him. This was the first time she ever saw him in the morning, not styled or anything, and she actually liked the light mess in his hair as well as the still rather sleepy look in his eyes. Yet, there was something else as well-openness. The last time she had seen it was when he had taken her out for dinner to that small Italian restaurant, and he had ended up asking her for forgiveness. But she was mostly surprised that he let her see the affection and the respect he had for her-or at least she thought she could see it. Smiling softly, she let her hand run over his cheek, feeling the soft stubble. The feeling actually made her chuckle briefly because she had never imagined him with anything less than a perfectly shaved face.
Draco placed his hand on hers, smiling at her chuckling. "Look... I loved our kisses, they were fantastic. But this... I mean, don't you think we should know first what we really want before we go further? Because I really don't want to fuck everything up again..."
"I know." She nodded gently.
"I really mean it. I don't want to hurt you, okay?" He placed a gentle kiss on her palm, his fingers still wrapped around her hand. "You deserve something better than just a one-off, you know?"
Despite being rather hung-over and sleepy, Hermione was touched by his care to do it right this time. "It's okay," she finally said, "I don't want to fuck it up either."
He smiled in relief, and placed another soft kiss in her palm. "Breakfast?"
She shook her head. "I'd like to stay like this a bit longer; it's comfortable."
***
A few days later, Draco found a surprisingly upset Hermione when he arrived at her place. "Hey, you okay?" he asked worried when she let him in.
She first nodded, but then started shaking her head. "It was a weird day," she replied, and closed the door behind him. "Dad and I brought Mum home today. I helped him get her settled."
"You mentioned that yesterday, I remember that you were rather glad about it."
"Mum said she wanted to talk with me, said she had noticed me withdrawing, and that she couldn't bear seeing me like this any longer..."
"And? Did you talk?" He unbuttoned his coat.
"Yeah. They told me that they do understand why I had done it, to protect them from a war they couldn't fight themselves. And they are actually rather proud of me, you know?"
"I don't know whether I would be proud or scared shitless to know that my daughter fought in this War."
"Oh, you'd be scared shitless for sure," she countered, flashing a smirk, though she continued to hug herself.
He noticed her attempt to hold on to herself; in this regard she was just like him, preferring to hide her emotions, but he knew her well enough to know the signals by now. So, in order to soothe her, he took one of her hands. "But that's not what's upsetting you, isn't it?" He let out a small growl when he saw her shake her head. "It's that bunch of idiots you still call friends, I guess?"
She just nodded, and wrapped her arms around his waist for support, breathing in deeply.
"Hey..." As she had slipped underneath his unbuttoned coat for her embrace, he now wrapped his coat and his arms around her to provide a safe bubble. When he finally felt her sigh against his chest-a sign that she was feeling a bit better-he slowly opened his embrace. "It is your friends, then," he whispered, trying to keep a soft voice, though he was starting to boil on the inside. Mostly as a distraction from his irritation, he started to rake his fingers through her mass of curls-then he realised that she welcomed the distraction of his touch just as much.
"Hmm," she let out, "that's nice." She finally turned her head upwards. "You like doing that, don't you?"
"Yes." He gently started massaging her scalp, smiling when he heard a low purr. "What did they do?"
Hermione enjoyed his massage in silence for a few long moments, even closed her eyes in the process. "They've sent an owl. I tried to read it, but it was just them questioning my decisions again. I've sent the letter back with the owl."
He stopped his massage, and took a deep breath because inside, his anger was reaching the boiling point -he was close to just show up at that shack the Weasley's call home and let her friends know what pricks they were for treating her like that. Oh yes, that would definitely satisfy him!
"Why did you stop?" she asked, and opened her eyes again.
"Nothing." He smiled, hoping that his anger wasn't visible on his face. "If you want, I could take you out for a small dinner, my treat. I'm sure the Italian has tiramisù on again tonight... Or I could go and check whether they also do take away. Your choice, I'm paying either way."
"You paying-I could get used to that," she replied, returning his smile.
He chuckled, relieved to see her smile. "Of course you could."
"But take away sounds nice, you know? I'm not in the mood to go out now, though a big Peperonata sounds about perfect."
"Good thing then that I'm still wearing my coat, right?" He raked through her hair once more. "Big Peperonata for you it is. And I'll bribe them to make you an extra-large pizza."
"My hero!" she joked. "But you know what? We could watch a film while eating. You do remember what a film is and a telly, right?"
"Hero..." He let out a short laugh, and then let go of her. "Yes, I kind of remember what a telly is. But whatever makes you feel better tonight."
Hermione was sitting comfortably on the sofa, skimming her way through the TV program when Draco made it back with the orders-she had left the door unlocked for him. "Did you get it?" she asked, and turned off the telly.
"You'd be surprised." He placed a surprisingly huge pizza box on the sofa table, topped with two smaller boxes. He grabbed the bigger one. "I didn't understand everything the old lady in the kitchen said, but she looked at me as if I should better apologise to you for whatever I did that made me order a big pizza. And then she gave me this." He opened the box, and carefully showed her the contents.
"Tiramisù!"
"And she was adamant that this is for you-all of it," Draco added to her amusement. He was glad that he could make her laugh. "Italian women definitely have some fire."
"Yes, they do."
He grabbed the other box, put it on the side and opened the pizza box. "I do hope I'll get one piece of it."
"You and pizza?" she replied teasingly, grabbing the first piece and rolling it up to be able to take a bite while Draco removed his coat and then placed himself next to her on the sofa.
He watched her stuff her mouth with that first piece of pizza, little moans of pleasure escaping her that let his mind drift off for a short moment. No, he didn't need to imagine that just yet. Maybe another day... To distract himself from his straying thoughts, he finally started his own dinner, the same as last time-his now all-time favourite because of the memories connected to it, Spaghetti Arrabbiata.
"You want the last piece now?" Hermione asked a short while later, licking the oily sauce from her fingers; she had ravished the rest of the pizza in record time, and was now eyeing the box with the tiramisù. "Just be careful, it's rather juicy..."
"You mean to say that I should protect my shirt?" he replied with an amused smirk, and reached for the last piece of pizza.
"You're the one with the expensive taste in clothes, not me," she countered, cocking her eyebrow.
Her continued finger licking didn't exactly help his focus, so he folded the last piece rather slowly, and in the way he had seen her do with the rest. As soon as he took a bite, he however understood why she had been letting out all those small moans that he had found so distracting-even slightly cooled, it was still delicious.
She chuckled, and then leaned back with a spoon and the box of tiramisù, ready to devour it all, on top of the pizza she had just stuffed herself with. "I like that sound you make."
He pushed the last bite in his mouth, and then leaned back as well, feeling stuffed. "You should have heard yourself," he replied after swallowing, "lost in pleasure." He imitated one of her delighted moans.
Hermione hid her blushing cheeks behind a big scoop of tiramisù. "Just me and good food."
Draco bit his tongue to keep another teasing comment to himself. He remembered all those little moans she had let out during their second kiss, they had vibrated all the way back into his throat; so, right now he wasn't sure how suggestive she actually sounded... Or maybe she knew? "Feeling a bit better?" he asked instead.
She nodded. "Yes. Thanks for doing all this."
"You weren't the only one with a crappy day. And this is a nice distraction..."
Licking the spoon clean after ingesting another load of tiramisù, she looked at him. "But-"
"You looked worse than I felt."
"What happened?"
"The usual."
"Fight with your father, then?"
Draco nodded. Taking care of Hermione for a moment had distracted him enough from the fight. Today had even been worse because his mother had been in the room, trying to stop them. The whole situation only ended when he left the Manor, as was their habit. "He found some of my notes. I only scribbled down a few ideas, things I wanted to do now... I mean, you said I should still try to make amends when I took you out for dinner.”
"I think I said that I won't free you from making amends," she clarified with a serious tone, raising her index finger upwards-but the teasing glint in her eyes betrayed her.
“Different words, same thing,” he retorted, grimacing.
Smiling softly, she put the box with remaining tiramisù on the table, and shifted her position so that she was now fully facing him. "What did he say this time?"
He gave a brief smile when he noticed her hand intertwine with his; he loved her touch, loved how her skin felt on his. "I'm not sure whether you know that I inherited part of the Malfoy fortune when I legally became an adult. I haven't really used that money for anything... It's a substantial sum, it really is." He sighed. "I thought of maybe turning parts of it into a fund, a charity or something similar. So I scribbled down a few ideas of what might be worth supporting. Just ideas at the moment. But it does feel a bit like I have a purpose in life again, you know?" He smiled again when he saw her nod. She was right, it was great to have someone who just understood, who didn't question every step you tried to take in life. "And he found those notes. Called them thoughtless and what not. 'Malfoys are not a charity', he said. For fuck's sake, it's my money, I can do whatever I like with it." He let out a frustrated groan that turned into a low growl. He was fed up with those constant fights about what he was supposed to do. At least, he was trying to do something to stop being seen as a pariah!
"I like the idea of putting up a charity. I do think you'd be able to help a lot of people," said Hermione.
"You do?"
"Yes."
"The thing is, if I'm going through with it, I'll need someone to help me with the organisational aspects and who can be charmingly convincing..." The eagerness with which she was listening to his idea filled him with hope that it might actually work; it was the feedback he had somewhat been hoping for. “So, just hypothetically speaking, would you be interested?”Hermione mulled about his proposition for a moment; and as always Draco watched how she furrowed her brows a little-it was a sign of her thinking deeply about something, as he had learned during all their talks. “Only hypothetically speaking, what would be your conditions?” she finally asked, smiling.
Draco got the impression that she wasn't just hypothetically asking but that she was genuinely interested. “I haven't thought that far yet. But why not some sort of equal partnership? We both have a say in what to support? I don't think you'd take anything less-I know your mind by now.”
She smiled teasingly. “You’ll be surprised, but I do like your idea of working together. I most definitely don't want to work for the Ministry should I ever come back-but in the wizarding world, you're either working for the Ministry in some form, or you're a shopkeeper or you're freelance. Or you're stinkingly rich.”
“Guilty of the last. But I wouldn't want to work for the Ministry either...”
“So, yes, I like your idea, even if we're just hypothetically speaking about it.” She leaned back on the sofa, her head coming to rest on his shoulder.
“Thanks. I wasn't so sure you'd agree with the idea-”
“Nah, you're doing it for the right reasons. And you want me on board because I'd keep you on the right track.”
“You got me.” Draco placed a soft kiss on her head, taking in that subtle scent of jasmine in it. Of course she was right, he did want her on board because she wasn't afraid to tell him her mind, and would keep him on track.
“Have you ever thought of moving out of the Manor?” she asked then, breaking the comfortable silence between them. “I mean you seem to fight with your father almost every day, that can't be a healthy atmosphere, you know?”
“Constantly. However, I told you before that as soon as anyone sees the name Malfoy, they don't want to be associated with me. I can't find anything, so I'm stuck there.”
“What about moving in here? I do have a spare room I don't really use. Most probably not what you're used to, and I don't have any house-elves, but you'd have your peace. And we could talk all night about stuff.”
“I... You think that a good idea?”
She looked up, smiling warmly. "Yes," she replied, and shifted upwards. "You're here most of the time anyway now... You arrive earlier and leave very late at night."
Draco did notice that she moved closer, until her face was only inches away from his. "Yes," he whispered, "I like spending time here..." He pulled an obstinate strand of hair out of her face, and studied her for a moment. He wondered why she was doing this, offering him her spare room, but then he got lost in her dark amber eyes, even found himself mesmerised by the fire glowing in them; only the touch of her fingers on his cheek finally brought him back.
"Then move in," she said, her eyes now fixed on his lips.
The deeper meaning of her words-that she wanted him to stay with her-let him feel a warmth radiate through his body, leaving him slightly light-headed. And the way she was looking at him right now, with that affection in her eyes, he realised that he wouldn't mind turning it into a more permanent situation. Guided by that thought, he cupped her face, and then let his thumb brush over her lips, parting them slightly.
"Draco-"
"Shh..." He stopped her by claiming her lips with a kiss. Their first two kisses had been great, exhilaratingly so, but this one was even better. It was tender, yet passionate; slow, but intense-it let his senses tingle and his heart race. Gods, she was intoxicating!
After what seemed like half an eternity, Hermione broke off, completely out of breath but smiling broadly. "Stay, please," she whispered softly, running her fingers through his hair.
"We'll collect my things tomorrow," he rasped in response, and started kissing her again, more possessive this time.
***
"Draco! What is the meaning of this?" Lucius demanded when he stormed into his son's room in the Manor.
"I think you can see what I'm doing," Draco retorted cynically. He was currently collecting his clothes, levitating them in one swoop into the magically enhanced suitcase he and Hermione had brought along. "I'm moving out."
"And where do you think are you moving?" Lucius tried to stop his son from putting any more shirts into the suitcase, earning himself a contemptuous glare from Draco, who then continued to collect everything. “You will stop immediately...”
“I won't-”
"My place, Mister Malfoy," Hermione replied from the en-suite bathroom where she was collecting the rest of his things.
"YOU BROUGHT HER HERE?"
Draco didn't even flinch at his father's outburst-he had witnessed enough of them to know that they were usually empty threads these days. "Yes, she is helping me," he replied calmly, without stopping to empty his wardrobe, not hiding the sneer in his voice, while trying to work around his father. “You're in my way.”
"Lucius? What's going on? Why are you shouting?" Narcissa joined them, though she remained at the door, watching the scene with wide eyes. "Draco! What are you doing?"
"Your son is moving out, Cissa," Lucius informed her, not even attempting to hide the spite in his voice. "That Mud-"
"Don't you dare say it, or I will make sure you'll regret it," Draco stopped his father, hissing loudly.
"Draco? Can you check the bathroom if I got everything you want to take with you?" Hermione came back into his room; she spoke calmly as if she hadn't heard the last exchange between the men, yet she threw her iciest glare at Lucius.
Draco saw her glare at his father, and nodded. "I'm almost finished here..." He put the last of his shirts in the suitcase.
"Why are you moving out, Draco?" Narcissa asked in disbelief, wrapping the house robe she was wearing these days a bit tighter around her body.
"Mother," Draco sighed. "You've seen us fight. You really think I could stay under the same roof as the man who still tries to control me, who still tries to manipulate me? This after everything he has done to us?” As much as he was looking forward to leaving his father behind, he didn't like leaving his mother in this cold place, knowing that she already felt lonely enough.
"I manipulated you? How dare you! Everything I ever did was to keep this family safe!" Lucius countered, raising his voice, demanding authority. "And you WILL NOT move out!"
"You cannot tell me what to do! You are the bloody reason why we're stuck like this, why we're considered pariahs in society. You, you selfish snake!"
“Watch your tongue, boy, or I will teach you to respect your parents-”
“Respect? For you? No. Not after everything you've done to me.” Draco shook his head; he was trembling now, his hands turned into fists.
"Draco, stop it." Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him back, fearing that the two men were going to attack each other any moment. She noticed that Narcissa was doing the same with Lucius, though more discreetly. "Let me."
"Hermione, he just used me to save his own skin,” Draco seethed; he took several deep breaths to calm himself. “I've done everything I could to save this family, and it was just about him!"
"It's okay," Hermione replied as calmly as she could. "Please, just go check the bathroom. The sooner we're finished, the faster we can leave..."
He huffed, and glared at his parents, then did indeed walk towards the en-suite, muttering all the way.
"He told me everything, Mister Malfoy," Hermione then continued icily when Draco was out of earshot. “And I've been at his hearing-”
"You don't know anything about how things work in our family-"
"THAT might be, Mister Malfoy. But-"
"You gave him ideas, you planted that damn idea about forgiveness in his head-"
"Lucius, stop now," Narcissa intervened. "I have had enough of your constant fights. You can't stop him."
"Cissa, she's beneath him-"
"She's the one who forgave him his sins... Do you really think he still cares about her blood?"
"She gave him those books to read, and it's because of her that he wants to waste his inheritance in a charity! What do you think he is going to do when he inherits the rest?"
"He tries to make amends for his family," Hermione threw in, irritated about his obstinacy. "For the mistakes you made. You forced him to do things he didn't want to. And you still try-"
"Hermione, let's go. He won't ever understand, as stubborn and self-centred as he is." Draco came back from the bathroom, a few last things in his hands that he added to the suitcase, and then, with a fast swish of his wand, he closed everything.
"Draco, dear..." Narcissa finally entered his room, suddenly looking rather lost.
"I'm only sorry for you, mother." Draco took her hand, completely ignoring his father now. "I'm going to miss you, and I do worry about leaving you alone here with him... But I cannot stay in this place any longer. It's not a good place..."
"No, it's not," she agreed. "You know, she's not what I had in mind for you when you were younger. I thought you would marry maybe one of the Greengrass girls one day, you know?” she continued with a softer voice, filled with regret. “But now, after that war, all I want is for you to be happy... You still have the chance for it. Take it, even if it's with her."
"Thanks." Draco hugged his mother for goodbye. After a deep breath, he let go of her to grab his things. He smiled faintly when he noticed that Hermione had already shrunk the pieces for easier transport through the Floo Network.
"I'm still disappointed that you no longer want to be part of this family," Lucius sneered when his son passed him.
Draco stopped, only to throw his father one last contemptuous glare. "Nothing new then. I've always been a disappointment to you. I just don't care any longer because I'm done with you. Goodbye." And with that, he continued his way back down to the main hall with its fireplace connected to the Floo, Hermione following closely behind.
****
"What's going on, Hermione?" Draco asked about a week after moving in; he held up a letter in the living room as he saw her enter the flat they now shared.
"Why are you going through my stuff?" she retorted defiantly, having just come home from her parents' place to look after her mother for a few hours, helping her father out who had been called for an emergency.
"It was lying on the table; I wasn't going through your things." He put the letter back down, straightening it a bit. "Why are you sending everything back?"
"I don't know what you mean," she huffed, pulling off her coat to hang it up.
"Oh come on, I saw you sending the owls straight back as soon as you saw the name of the sender. You sent everything back except this one, from the Weasley mother. So, what's going on?" He thought he heard a low growl coming from her in response. He just didn't care any longer, after having watched her grow more and more upset with every letter arriving from her so-called friends. Some friends they were-not caring enough to come by, or maybe not courageous enough? Gryffindors!
"Just because you live here doesn't mean I have to tell you everything," she retorted walking past him to the kitchen.
He followed her. "You know that I don't just live here, Hermione. You know it's more than that-and it means I worry, because I can see what those letters do to you-"
"I just don't want to talk to them, okay?" she growled, opened the fridge to check for something to drink.
"I think you should-"
"No!" she slammed the fridge door shut. "I'm not going to talk to them as long as they don't get it, and those letters are a sign that they haven't understood yet."
Draco said nothing, sensing that any reply would only make it worse, and he wasn't in the mood to be on the receiving end of one of her hexes. However, he had understood by now that-as much as he would have loved to have her to himself-she still needed that bunch of blithering idiots she called friends. If only they all-Hermione included-weren't so damn proud and stubborn.
"What? No sarcastic comeback?" she finally commented on his silence.
"No." He shook his head. "Not this time. As much as you'd like me to, but no."
"Why would you even care about my friends?"
"I don't care about them, I care about you! They could rot in hell for all I care, and for how they treat you. Only the gods know what you see in them, but whatever you might think, you still need them."
"I don't-"
"You do, Hermione." He took a step towards her, stretching out his hand to her in an offer of peace, and softening his voice. "I know you do, or you wouldn't react like you do to all those letters."
She shook her head in defiance, and narrowed her eyes. "No, I don't, Draco." With that, she left the kitchen again. "I'm not going to talk about it any further, understood? And I think I'd rather be alone tonight."
Draco wanted to retort something, but then swallowed his words, and only watched her leave the room to go upstairs. With a frustrated sigh, he realised that he had to do something in order to fix the situation, or else it would always loom over them, and-in the worst case-destroy whatever they had been exploring over the last few days; he didn't want to lose that, oh no! Besides, as much as he still disliked the group, he didn't want to be the cause for a break-up between them and Hermione, not after having witnessed her behaviour since their last fight... Bloody thick-headed Gryffindors and their damn pride!
****
"Potter. A word with you." Draco leaned against the door frame of Harry's office the next day, amused at the chaos that apparently prevailed any system of order.
"How did you find here?"
"Oh, I do have my charms with some ladies. But I'm not here to talk about that."
Harry closed the file in front of him and leaned back, crossing his arms. "Hermione."
"Yes." Draco acknowledged the still defiant position of the other with a short smirk. "Let me see, one of the words she mentioned most in relation to you and your gang was idiots-"
"I'm sure you suggested it."
"No, I'm even being nice right now, sparing you from the more salacious words she used. You pissed her off, not me."
"What do you want? Gloat about that fact?"
"It's tempting, Potter. But no. I'm here because I think the two of us need to come to an understanding-"
"Pff."
"Potter, stop your act for a moment. You can't be that thick-headed not to see the hurt you're causing."
"What do you mean?"
Draco was not in the least intimidated by Potter's glare in response to his words. “Really, Potter? I've seen her sent your letters back, all of them-”
"Yes, she sent them all back. Except George's and Molly's."
"Exactly."
"Why do you even care about it?"
"And here I was thinking you might have finally understood the wink, but it seems you haven't got the slightest clue. You really should have believed her when she told you that we're just talking. And no, that wasn't a euphemism... Happy with the results?"
Harry let out an irritated sounding sigh. "No."
"I figured. So, this is a favour for Hermione, because-"
"You use her first name?"
"Problem with that? Or are you jumping to conclusions again, Potter? Better live with it."
"Yeah, I figured as much." Harry rubbed his eyes. "Molly told us the same."
Draco nodded. The letter he and Hermione had argued about the day before was the letter from the Weasley matron-the only one he saw opened. The old woman had invited her for a tea to the Burrow, and asked how she was. He wasn't surprised to hear that she had given that group of tossers an earful of her mind, and it seemed to have worked, too. "As I said, this is a favour for her. I'm not here because I suddenly like you, but for Hermione's sake-"
"-we should let go of the past and be friendly enough with each other. Is that what you want?"
"More or less."
"Again, Molly said the same..."
"So, you and your friends will be coming over next Friday to Hermione, and then you'll have that deep conversation with her that she deserves, and you will listen to what she has to say...” Draco made a pause to let his words sink in, and used the time to study his old rival closely, before he continued. “However, you might need to bring the food and drinks. I'm not going to tell her that you're coming because otherwise she might disappear-"
"-before we even arrive. Yes, she can be that stubborn. Okay, we'll come over next Friday. For her, not because you asked."
"This meeting never happened."
Harry nodded, and then pinched his nose bridge before setting his glasses straight. "What's in it for you, by the way? You haven't suddenly turned into a selfless person, have you?"
"Like you? Bloody hope not. But I won't let that one person down who does have the strength to forgive me while you nurtured your prejudices..."
Now Harry started to grin. "You want her."
"Never said that, Potter."
"You know that's hopeless..."
Draco ignored Harry's remark, knowing that the situation was rather different. "You better be there on Friday. I make sure she's home."
***
That next Friday evening, Hermione was preparing for some comfortable reading on the sofa, with Draco next to her, as they now spent most their evenings ever since he had moved in to leave the toxic atmosphere of the Manor. She was, however, not at all prepared for the knock that pulled her from her thoughts.
Draco shrugged when she looked at him questioningly, and continued reading. "I don't think I should open any doors at the moment."
Hermione got up with a sigh when the knock was repeated. "They all know better," she muttered, and finally opened the door.
"Hermione! You're home!"
"What the fuck are you doing here?" she retorted irritated when she saw her friends stand outside her door.
"We're here to apologise," Harry said, "all of us."
"Took you long enough."
"Hermione, we're really sorry. We were just worried you were making a mistake..." Ginny came up. "I mean it was-or rather still is-difficult to understand that you and Malfoy became friends after everything that happened-"
"Maybe you're right, and we should be the better ones," Harry added, mostly to stop Ginny from blabbering on.
"Maybe I'm right?" Hermione retorted.
"Okaaay, you are right, and we were idiots to treat you like that."
"That's better."
"Look, we really mean it-we were lousy friends to let you slip like that," Harry continued. "We didn't listen, and we'd like to remedy that." He held up a bag filled with what looked like groceries. "My pasta is Molly-approved; you wouldn't have to do anything. Well, maybe except let us know where your things are in the kitchen."
Hermione looked at every single one of them-Harry, Ginny, Ron, all of them looking something between embarrassed and apologetic. She just didn't trust the whole thing.
"Please, give us a chance to makes things better. We all promise to listen and not judge," Ginny added, sounding sincerely apologetic.
"Draco's here," Hermione replied coolly, noticing them flinch at her using his first name. "And I won't throw him out just for you..."
"We said we won't judge. So we can live with it, I think."
"All right, you idiots, come in." Hermione stepped aside to let the group in, and pointed them to the kitchen, before going back to the sofa. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked Draco, who was still reading through his book, albeit rather disinterestedly so.
"They claim to be your friends, ask them," he replied without even looking up, though he couldn't hide the smirk fast enough.
"We'll talk later,” she said, having noticed the smirk on his face. “Right now, I'd prefer if you could stay upstairs. They might say that they won't judge, but those are so far just words."
He finally looked at her, and slowly nodded before he got up. "Don't hold back, okay? They promised to listen, and they should. Let them know that they really were idiots." With that, he went for the stairs.
"Malfoy."
"Potter."
"What's going on?" Hermione asked suspiciously, once Draco was out of sight.
"Nothing."
"As if." She followed Harry into the kitchen where everyone else was already trying to find utensils and cutlery. In a way, she was glad they had the courage to come over, but that didn't mean they were excused just yet; she sat down at her small kitchen table to keep an eye on them.
"Out of curiosity-why is Draco here tonight? Did we interrupt one of your talks?" Ginny asked, filling the pot with water.
"He currently stays in the spare room." Hermione had to smirk at their reaction to that information-they all stopped whatever they were doing and just blankly stared at her slack-jawed. "What? The Daily Prophet didn't mention that he moved out of the Manor? They were so keen on everything else..."
"He moved in here?" That was Ron, finally breathing in again.
"What did you think? Nobody wants to sell or rent anything to the Malfoys, and he wants to find something in the Muggle world anyway. I'm just helping out."
"And you really aren't...? I mean... you know," Ginny stammered.
"No." Hermione shook her head; she preferred to keep any further details about her relationship with Draco a secret for the moment-him as her flatmate was already stretching it enough. However, seeing her friends' shocked faces was definitely worth mentioning his moving in.
"You should have heard Mum have a go at us after you left that Sunday," Ron finally continued. "What did she say? Stubbornly blinded by prejudices... I think, idiots was mentioned several times too."
Hermione smirked deviously. "You definitely deserved it, especially for not trusting my word when I said we were only talking."
"It just sounded so incredible, you know? He wasn't one of the good guys-"
"You mean, one of us. No, he wasn't. But who are we to judge him now for that? We all did what we had to do to keep the ones we love as safe as we could, he just had different cards to play and lost."
"But-"
"Ginny, no. You have no idea how lonely he must have been to come to my place. Lonely enough not to care any longer. You haven't seen his eyes that day, you haven't heard him talk. You just assumed. And you didn't even give him a chance when you discovered him after our dinner, Harry. You just insisted on having him chased away."
"It was based on our experience with him, Hermione-"
"Molly was right, stubbornly blinded," Hermione retorted, "I would add stuck in the past to the list."
"Hey, we learned the lesson!" Harry exclaimed, raising his hands in defence.
"Have you?" Hermione looked at every one of them, eyeing them closely. "Are you all willing to see past his mistakes?" She saw them all look at each other, questioning themselves. "Because you will see more of him in the future, whether you like it or not."
"I think we could manage-"
"We'll see about that," Hermione interrupted Harry sceptically. "Merlin knows I'm not asking you to become best friends with him, just to give him a chance to show that he has changed. Because he has. Or I wouldn't let him live here, you know?"
They all nodded. "We get that, now. It might take a while to get comfortable with the idea of Malfoy living here, though," Ron added with an unsure smile.
Hermione smiled genuinely for the first time ever since they arrived; that was what she had wanted all along. "There's another thing I think you should know-I'll return more fully to the wizarding community, and start a new job-"
"Coming back to the Ministry?" Harry asked. "You'd be perfect for that new project-"
"Or join George as a partner, he's looking for one-"
"Hogwarts is searching for new staff-"
"Neither of them. Draco is about to found a charity with the money he's so far inherited-I've seen the number, it's a hilariously substantial sum-and I join him as an equal partner. It's in his name, but besides that, we share all the responsibilities." The kitchen was suddenly quiet, except for a knife falling to the ground; Hermione had expected this reaction to the news, had even joked with Draco about it. "And yes, it was all his idea. He wants to help, and make amends for his family's wrongdoings."
"That..." Ginny was the first to break the silence. "That is... wow."
"It's not going to be easy to convince the society that he means it-" Harry added, agreeing with his girlfriend.
"That's why we join forces-his money, my reputation."
"It's a lot to get used to," Ron admitted. "He's going to be around you all the time."
"Yes. Is that a problem?" Hermione eyed her ex closely, who eventually shook his head.
"Why are you joining him?" Harry asked, sounding something between curious and still sceptical. "I mean it's a good idea and all..."
"Because it gives us both some purpose in life." She saw her friends nod. "I mean I don't want to disappear behind some desk at the Ministry, you know? I want to help others, and his idea sounded good. And maybe we can also steer somewhat against the current course of action the Ministry seems to have taken..."
"And he pays you rather decently."
"I'm not doing it for the money, but yes," she replied with a short grin. It started to feel as if she finally found the connection to her friends once again-they might struggle a bit with her and Draco working and temporarily living together, but at least they were willing to give him a chance now...
"So, want to tell us more about that charity?" Harry finally asked. “I mean it's important to you, so we'd like to know more.”
“Yeah, maybe we could even help out with showing up somewhere, you know?” Ron agreed, and snagged a piece of tomato from the cutting board.
***
It was late that evening when Hermione finally made it to bed; she was tired but content-the dinner had turned into a long-needed conversation with her friends, and she had been able to get it all off her chest. And they even listened to her in earnest when she told them more about their plans with the fund; and she had to admit that she had been pleasantly surprised about their genuine curiosity about both the fund and Draco. But now, all she wanted was drifting off to sleep while spooning comfortably against Draco's chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her. “You talked to Harry, didn't you?” she whispered, when he pulled her closer under the blanket.
“Yes,” he replied with a soft murmur. “You were upset...”
“Draco-”
“Shh...” He placed a sleepy kiss on her shoulder. “As much as I'd like to have you all to myself, I get that you come in a package. You need them, I can live with that.”
She gently took his hand that was placed on her stomach and twined her fingers with his. “Thanks. And I'll make their lives hell if they won't accept you.”
“You don't need to-”
“I do.” She pressed his hand in affirmation. “Just as you accept that I come in a package with them, they'll have to accept that I come in a package with you.”
He pulled her closer in response, and placed another kiss on her shoulder. “This is more than I could ever have hoped for when I came to your place the first time...”
That made Hermione turn around and look at him, surprised to find him gazing at her once more with a surprisingly honest face-it was an expression she now figured fitted him much better than that mask he had worn before. “I know,” she finally whispered softly, and let her fingers run through his hair, pulling him gently closer, until his lips were almost brushing hers.
“I think that saying is true,” he breathed over her lips, “home is where the heart is, I mean.” He kissed her gently, only letting his tongue run over her lips. “And you make me feel home, Hermione.” With that admission, he claimed her lips in a deep kiss.
Hermione was blown away by his words, and she responded with all she got to his kiss, relishing once more that slow, but intense passion between them. “You make me feel home, too,” she murmured breathlessly between kisses. “You, no one else.” She smiled into their kiss when he started to turn on his back, pulling her along until she ended up lying on him. Her smile grew even wider when she could feel his hands sneak under her pyjama top, brushing lightly over her skin. “Just don't stop.”
“Never,” he replied teasingly, and started pulling her top up. “Never...”
END
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The next morning, Hermione woke up with a severely throbbing head, feeling disoriented, while her eyes refused to open in the bright morning light. Was it really morning? She didn't know, having lost her sense of time in her attempt to drown herself in alcohol. She groaned, and tried to remember how she got back home last night-it was a bit hazy, but somehow Draco had been involved. Draco! Hell yes, she had left him a note not to bother waiting for her to come out, and then he just picked her up... That was when she noticed that she wasn't alone in the bed but had arms wrapped around her as if protecting her from something. He had stayed. She opened her eyes carefully one by one but was still blinded by the light for a moment; she let out another groan as her head started throbbing even more. After a deep breath-and with sheer will-she was able to keep her eyes open and look down. Yes, that were his hands, lying protectively around her waist; she had to smile at the fact that he made sure that they were placed in safe spots, like a gentleman. She could hear him breathe behind her, even felt the breath brush over the skin on her neck. As weird as this might have looked, most probably, to others, she hadn't felt as comfortable and safe in months-just because he had been there when she had needed him. He, of all people. He had caught her; he was letting her feel safe now. Why was it so hard to understand that he had taken the chance to change, to open up to her? That war questioned everyone's world-view and changed people? She intertwined her fingers with his, and nestled up closer to him.
"Hey," he whispered sleepily when he noticed her shifting. "Feeling better?"
She smiled gently. "Head hurts."
"I figure. Didn't know you could stomach that much alcohol without passing out. You do remember that you threw up in front of your house?"
“I did?”
“Yes.” He let his thumb run over hers. “I could put something together for your head if you want...”
"I've got something in the kitchen. Just too comfortable to get up," she replied softly, enjoying his gentle strokes on her thumb.
"Hm-hm..."
Hermione could feel him brush a kiss on her neck, and it sent a shiver down her spine. "Hmm... That's nice."
"Couldn't resist, sorry."
“Hm-hm... Your lips are so soft, you know?” she whispered, licking hers; she had really loved how his lips had felt the last time they had kissed-though she was quite sure they hadn't kissed the night before.
“I know.”
“Wish you would continue,” she murmured, pressing his hand in encouragement; she didn't really think that he would repeat that kiss on her shoulder, or do even more, but that didn't mean she couldn't hope for it.
"Could you turn around?" he asked, letting out a small sigh.
She nodded, and then-groaning rather deeply from the renewed throbbing in her head-she eventually managed to turn around to face him. This was the first time she ever saw him in the morning, not styled or anything, and she actually liked the light mess in his hair as well as the still rather sleepy look in his eyes. Yet, there was something else as well-openness. The last time she had seen it was when he had taken her out for dinner to that small Italian restaurant, and he had ended up asking her for forgiveness. But she was mostly surprised that he let her see the affection and the respect he had for her-or at least she thought she could see it. Smiling softly, she let her hand run over his cheek, feeling the soft stubble. The feeling actually made her chuckle briefly because she had never imagined him with anything less than a perfectly shaved face.
Draco placed his hand on hers, smiling at her chuckling. "Look... I loved our kisses, they were fantastic. But this... I mean, don't you think we should know first what we really want before we go further? Because I really don't want to fuck everything up again..."
"I know." She nodded gently.
"I really mean it. I don't want to hurt you, okay?" He placed a gentle kiss on her palm, his fingers still wrapped around her hand. "You deserve something better than just a one-off, you know?"
Despite being rather hung-over and sleepy, Hermione was touched by his care to do it right this time. "It's okay," she finally said, "I don't want to fuck it up either."
He smiled in relief, and placed another soft kiss in her palm. "Breakfast?"
She shook her head. "I'd like to stay like this a bit longer; it's comfortable."
***
A few days later, Draco found a surprisingly upset Hermione when he arrived at her place. "Hey, you okay?" he asked worried when she let him in.
She first nodded, but then started shaking her head. "It was a weird day," she replied, and closed the door behind him. "Dad and I brought Mum home today. I helped him get her settled."
"You mentioned that yesterday, I remember that you were rather glad about it."
"Mum said she wanted to talk with me, said she had noticed me withdrawing, and that she couldn't bear seeing me like this any longer..."
"And? Did you talk?" He unbuttoned his coat.
"Yeah. They told me that they do understand why I had done it, to protect them from a war they couldn't fight themselves. And they are actually rather proud of me, you know?"
"I don't know whether I would be proud or scared shitless to know that my daughter fought in this War."
"Oh, you'd be scared shitless for sure," she countered, flashing a smirk, though she continued to hug herself.
He noticed her attempt to hold on to herself; in this regard she was just like him, preferring to hide her emotions, but he knew her well enough to know the signals by now. So, in order to soothe her, he took one of her hands. "But that's not what's upsetting you, isn't it?" He let out a small growl when he saw her shake her head. "It's that bunch of idiots you still call friends, I guess?"
She just nodded, and wrapped her arms around his waist for support, breathing in deeply.
"Hey..." As she had slipped underneath his unbuttoned coat for her embrace, he now wrapped his coat and his arms around her to provide a safe bubble. When he finally felt her sigh against his chest-a sign that she was feeling a bit better-he slowly opened his embrace. "It is your friends, then," he whispered, trying to keep a soft voice, though he was starting to boil on the inside. Mostly as a distraction from his irritation, he started to rake his fingers through her mass of curls-then he realised that she welcomed the distraction of his touch just as much.
"Hmm," she let out, "that's nice." She finally turned her head upwards. "You like doing that, don't you?"
"Yes." He gently started massaging her scalp, smiling when he heard a low purr. "What did they do?"
Hermione enjoyed his massage in silence for a few long moments, even closed her eyes in the process. "They've sent an owl. I tried to read it, but it was just them questioning my decisions again. I've sent the letter back with the owl."
He stopped his massage, and took a deep breath because inside, his anger was reaching the boiling point -he was close to just show up at that shack the Weasley's call home and let her friends know what pricks they were for treating her like that. Oh yes, that would definitely satisfy him!
"Why did you stop?" she asked, and opened her eyes again.
"Nothing." He smiled, hoping that his anger wasn't visible on his face. "If you want, I could take you out for a small dinner, my treat. I'm sure the Italian has tiramisù on again tonight... Or I could go and check whether they also do take away. Your choice, I'm paying either way."
"You paying-I could get used to that," she replied, returning his smile.
He chuckled, relieved to see her smile. "Of course you could."
"But take away sounds nice, you know? I'm not in the mood to go out now, though a big Peperonata sounds about perfect."
"Good thing then that I'm still wearing my coat, right?" He raked through her hair once more. "Big Peperonata for you it is. And I'll bribe them to make you an extra-large pizza."
"My hero!" she joked. "But you know what? We could watch a film while eating. You do remember what a film is and a telly, right?"
"Hero..." He let out a short laugh, and then let go of her. "Yes, I kind of remember what a telly is. But whatever makes you feel better tonight."
Hermione was sitting comfortably on the sofa, skimming her way through the TV program when Draco made it back with the orders-she had left the door unlocked for him. "Did you get it?" she asked, and turned off the telly.
"You'd be surprised." He placed a surprisingly huge pizza box on the sofa table, topped with two smaller boxes. He grabbed the bigger one. "I didn't understand everything the old lady in the kitchen said, but she looked at me as if I should better apologise to you for whatever I did that made me order a big pizza. And then she gave me this." He opened the box, and carefully showed her the contents.
"Tiramisù!"
"And she was adamant that this is for you-all of it," Draco added to her amusement. He was glad that he could make her laugh. "Italian women definitely have some fire."
"Yes, they do."
He grabbed the other box, put it on the side and opened the pizza box. "I do hope I'll get one piece of it."
"You and pizza?" she replied teasingly, grabbing the first piece and rolling it up to be able to take a bite while Draco removed his coat and then placed himself next to her on the sofa.
He watched her stuff her mouth with that first piece of pizza, little moans of pleasure escaping her that let his mind drift off for a short moment. No, he didn't need to imagine that just yet. Maybe another day... To distract himself from his straying thoughts, he finally started his own dinner, the same as last time-his now all-time favourite because of the memories connected to it, Spaghetti Arrabbiata.
"You want the last piece now?" Hermione asked a short while later, licking the oily sauce from her fingers; she had ravished the rest of the pizza in record time, and was now eyeing the box with the tiramisù. "Just be careful, it's rather juicy..."
"You mean to say that I should protect my shirt?" he replied with an amused smirk, and reached for the last piece of pizza.
"You're the one with the expensive taste in clothes, not me," she countered, cocking her eyebrow.
Her continued finger licking didn't exactly help his focus, so he folded the last piece rather slowly, and in the way he had seen her do with the rest. As soon as he took a bite, he however understood why she had been letting out all those small moans that he had found so distracting-even slightly cooled, it was still delicious.
She chuckled, and then leaned back with a spoon and the box of tiramisù, ready to devour it all, on top of the pizza she had just stuffed herself with. "I like that sound you make."
He pushed the last bite in his mouth, and then leaned back as well, feeling stuffed. "You should have heard yourself," he replied after swallowing, "lost in pleasure." He imitated one of her delighted moans.
Hermione hid her blushing cheeks behind a big scoop of tiramisù. "Just me and good food."
Draco bit his tongue to keep another teasing comment to himself. He remembered all those little moans she had let out during their second kiss, they had vibrated all the way back into his throat; so, right now he wasn't sure how suggestive she actually sounded... Or maybe she knew? "Feeling a bit better?" he asked instead.
She nodded. "Yes. Thanks for doing all this."
"You weren't the only one with a crappy day. And this is a nice distraction..."
Licking the spoon clean after ingesting another load of tiramisù, she looked at him. "But-"
"You looked worse than I felt."
"What happened?"
"The usual."
"Fight with your father, then?"
Draco nodded. Taking care of Hermione for a moment had distracted him enough from the fight. Today had even been worse because his mother had been in the room, trying to stop them. The whole situation only ended when he left the Manor, as was their habit. "He found some of my notes. I only scribbled down a few ideas, things I wanted to do now... I mean, you said I should still try to make amends when I took you out for dinner.”
"I think I said that I won't free you from making amends," she clarified with a serious tone, raising her index finger upwards-but the teasing glint in her eyes betrayed her.
“Different words, same thing,” he retorted, grimacing.
Smiling softly, she put the box with remaining tiramisù on the table, and shifted her position so that she was now fully facing him. "What did he say this time?"
He gave a brief smile when he noticed her hand intertwine with his; he loved her touch, loved how her skin felt on his. "I'm not sure whether you know that I inherited part of the Malfoy fortune when I legally became an adult. I haven't really used that money for anything... It's a substantial sum, it really is." He sighed. "I thought of maybe turning parts of it into a fund, a charity or something similar. So I scribbled down a few ideas of what might be worth supporting. Just ideas at the moment. But it does feel a bit like I have a purpose in life again, you know?" He smiled again when he saw her nod. She was right, it was great to have someone who just understood, who didn't question every step you tried to take in life. "And he found those notes. Called them thoughtless and what not. 'Malfoys are not a charity', he said. For fuck's sake, it's my money, I can do whatever I like with it." He let out a frustrated groan that turned into a low growl. He was fed up with those constant fights about what he was supposed to do. At least, he was trying to do something to stop being seen as a pariah!
"I like the idea of putting up a charity. I do think you'd be able to help a lot of people," said Hermione.
"You do?"
"Yes."
"The thing is, if I'm going through with it, I'll need someone to help me with the organisational aspects and who can be charmingly convincing..." The eagerness with which she was listening to his idea filled him with hope that it might actually work; it was the feedback he had somewhat been hoping for. “So, just hypothetically speaking, would you be interested?”Hermione mulled about his proposition for a moment; and as always Draco watched how she furrowed her brows a little-it was a sign of her thinking deeply about something, as he had learned during all their talks. “Only hypothetically speaking, what would be your conditions?” she finally asked, smiling.
Draco got the impression that she wasn't just hypothetically asking but that she was genuinely interested. “I haven't thought that far yet. But why not some sort of equal partnership? We both have a say in what to support? I don't think you'd take anything less-I know your mind by now.”
She smiled teasingly. “You’ll be surprised, but I do like your idea of working together. I most definitely don't want to work for the Ministry should I ever come back-but in the wizarding world, you're either working for the Ministry in some form, or you're a shopkeeper or you're freelance. Or you're stinkingly rich.”
“Guilty of the last. But I wouldn't want to work for the Ministry either...”
“So, yes, I like your idea, even if we're just hypothetically speaking about it.” She leaned back on the sofa, her head coming to rest on his shoulder.
“Thanks. I wasn't so sure you'd agree with the idea-”
“Nah, you're doing it for the right reasons. And you want me on board because I'd keep you on the right track.”
“You got me.” Draco placed a soft kiss on her head, taking in that subtle scent of jasmine in it. Of course she was right, he did want her on board because she wasn't afraid to tell him her mind, and would keep him on track.
“Have you ever thought of moving out of the Manor?” she asked then, breaking the comfortable silence between them. “I mean you seem to fight with your father almost every day, that can't be a healthy atmosphere, you know?”
“Constantly. However, I told you before that as soon as anyone sees the name Malfoy, they don't want to be associated with me. I can't find anything, so I'm stuck there.”
“What about moving in here? I do have a spare room I don't really use. Most probably not what you're used to, and I don't have any house-elves, but you'd have your peace. And we could talk all night about stuff.”
“I... You think that a good idea?”
She looked up, smiling warmly. "Yes," she replied, and shifted upwards. "You're here most of the time anyway now... You arrive earlier and leave very late at night."
Draco did notice that she moved closer, until her face was only inches away from his. "Yes," he whispered, "I like spending time here..." He pulled an obstinate strand of hair out of her face, and studied her for a moment. He wondered why she was doing this, offering him her spare room, but then he got lost in her dark amber eyes, even found himself mesmerised by the fire glowing in them; only the touch of her fingers on his cheek finally brought him back.
"Then move in," she said, her eyes now fixed on his lips.
The deeper meaning of her words-that she wanted him to stay with her-let him feel a warmth radiate through his body, leaving him slightly light-headed. And the way she was looking at him right now, with that affection in her eyes, he realised that he wouldn't mind turning it into a more permanent situation. Guided by that thought, he cupped her face, and then let his thumb brush over her lips, parting them slightly.
"Draco-"
"Shh..." He stopped her by claiming her lips with a kiss. Their first two kisses had been great, exhilaratingly so, but this one was even better. It was tender, yet passionate; slow, but intense-it let his senses tingle and his heart race. Gods, she was intoxicating!
After what seemed like half an eternity, Hermione broke off, completely out of breath but smiling broadly. "Stay, please," she whispered softly, running her fingers through his hair.
"We'll collect my things tomorrow," he rasped in response, and started kissing her again, more possessive this time.
***
"Draco! What is the meaning of this?" Lucius demanded when he stormed into his son's room in the Manor.
"I think you can see what I'm doing," Draco retorted cynically. He was currently collecting his clothes, levitating them in one swoop into the magically enhanced suitcase he and Hermione had brought along. "I'm moving out."
"And where do you think are you moving?" Lucius tried to stop his son from putting any more shirts into the suitcase, earning himself a contemptuous glare from Draco, who then continued to collect everything. “You will stop immediately...”
“I won't-”
"My place, Mister Malfoy," Hermione replied from the en-suite bathroom where she was collecting the rest of his things.
"YOU BROUGHT HER HERE?"
Draco didn't even flinch at his father's outburst-he had witnessed enough of them to know that they were usually empty threads these days. "Yes, she is helping me," he replied calmly, without stopping to empty his wardrobe, not hiding the sneer in his voice, while trying to work around his father. “You're in my way.”
"Lucius? What's going on? Why are you shouting?" Narcissa joined them, though she remained at the door, watching the scene with wide eyes. "Draco! What are you doing?"
"Your son is moving out, Cissa," Lucius informed her, not even attempting to hide the spite in his voice. "That Mud-"
"Don't you dare say it, or I will make sure you'll regret it," Draco stopped his father, hissing loudly.
"Draco? Can you check the bathroom if I got everything you want to take with you?" Hermione came back into his room; she spoke calmly as if she hadn't heard the last exchange between the men, yet she threw her iciest glare at Lucius.
Draco saw her glare at his father, and nodded. "I'm almost finished here..." He put the last of his shirts in the suitcase.
"Why are you moving out, Draco?" Narcissa asked in disbelief, wrapping the house robe she was wearing these days a bit tighter around her body.
"Mother," Draco sighed. "You've seen us fight. You really think I could stay under the same roof as the man who still tries to control me, who still tries to manipulate me? This after everything he has done to us?” As much as he was looking forward to leaving his father behind, he didn't like leaving his mother in this cold place, knowing that she already felt lonely enough.
"I manipulated you? How dare you! Everything I ever did was to keep this family safe!" Lucius countered, raising his voice, demanding authority. "And you WILL NOT move out!"
"You cannot tell me what to do! You are the bloody reason why we're stuck like this, why we're considered pariahs in society. You, you selfish snake!"
“Watch your tongue, boy, or I will teach you to respect your parents-”
“Respect? For you? No. Not after everything you've done to me.” Draco shook his head; he was trembling now, his hands turned into fists.
"Draco, stop it." Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him back, fearing that the two men were going to attack each other any moment. She noticed that Narcissa was doing the same with Lucius, though more discreetly. "Let me."
"Hermione, he just used me to save his own skin,” Draco seethed; he took several deep breaths to calm himself. “I've done everything I could to save this family, and it was just about him!"
"It's okay," Hermione replied as calmly as she could. "Please, just go check the bathroom. The sooner we're finished, the faster we can leave..."
He huffed, and glared at his parents, then did indeed walk towards the en-suite, muttering all the way.
"He told me everything, Mister Malfoy," Hermione then continued icily when Draco was out of earshot. “And I've been at his hearing-”
"You don't know anything about how things work in our family-"
"THAT might be, Mister Malfoy. But-"
"You gave him ideas, you planted that damn idea about forgiveness in his head-"
"Lucius, stop now," Narcissa intervened. "I have had enough of your constant fights. You can't stop him."
"Cissa, she's beneath him-"
"She's the one who forgave him his sins... Do you really think he still cares about her blood?"
"She gave him those books to read, and it's because of her that he wants to waste his inheritance in a charity! What do you think he is going to do when he inherits the rest?"
"He tries to make amends for his family," Hermione threw in, irritated about his obstinacy. "For the mistakes you made. You forced him to do things he didn't want to. And you still try-"
"Hermione, let's go. He won't ever understand, as stubborn and self-centred as he is." Draco came back from the bathroom, a few last things in his hands that he added to the suitcase, and then, with a fast swish of his wand, he closed everything.
"Draco, dear..." Narcissa finally entered his room, suddenly looking rather lost.
"I'm only sorry for you, mother." Draco took her hand, completely ignoring his father now. "I'm going to miss you, and I do worry about leaving you alone here with him... But I cannot stay in this place any longer. It's not a good place..."
"No, it's not," she agreed. "You know, she's not what I had in mind for you when you were younger. I thought you would marry maybe one of the Greengrass girls one day, you know?” she continued with a softer voice, filled with regret. “But now, after that war, all I want is for you to be happy... You still have the chance for it. Take it, even if it's with her."
"Thanks." Draco hugged his mother for goodbye. After a deep breath, he let go of her to grab his things. He smiled faintly when he noticed that Hermione had already shrunk the pieces for easier transport through the Floo Network.
"I'm still disappointed that you no longer want to be part of this family," Lucius sneered when his son passed him.
Draco stopped, only to throw his father one last contemptuous glare. "Nothing new then. I've always been a disappointment to you. I just don't care any longer because I'm done with you. Goodbye." And with that, he continued his way back down to the main hall with its fireplace connected to the Floo, Hermione following closely behind.
****
"What's going on, Hermione?" Draco asked about a week after moving in; he held up a letter in the living room as he saw her enter the flat they now shared.
"Why are you going through my stuff?" she retorted defiantly, having just come home from her parents' place to look after her mother for a few hours, helping her father out who had been called for an emergency.
"It was lying on the table; I wasn't going through your things." He put the letter back down, straightening it a bit. "Why are you sending everything back?"
"I don't know what you mean," she huffed, pulling off her coat to hang it up.
"Oh come on, I saw you sending the owls straight back as soon as you saw the name of the sender. You sent everything back except this one, from the Weasley mother. So, what's going on?" He thought he heard a low growl coming from her in response. He just didn't care any longer, after having watched her grow more and more upset with every letter arriving from her so-called friends. Some friends they were-not caring enough to come by, or maybe not courageous enough? Gryffindors!
"Just because you live here doesn't mean I have to tell you everything," she retorted walking past him to the kitchen.
He followed her. "You know that I don't just live here, Hermione. You know it's more than that-and it means I worry, because I can see what those letters do to you-"
"I just don't want to talk to them, okay?" she growled, opened the fridge to check for something to drink.
"I think you should-"
"No!" she slammed the fridge door shut. "I'm not going to talk to them as long as they don't get it, and those letters are a sign that they haven't understood yet."
Draco said nothing, sensing that any reply would only make it worse, and he wasn't in the mood to be on the receiving end of one of her hexes. However, he had understood by now that-as much as he would have loved to have her to himself-she still needed that bunch of blithering idiots she called friends. If only they all-Hermione included-weren't so damn proud and stubborn.
"What? No sarcastic comeback?" she finally commented on his silence.
"No." He shook his head. "Not this time. As much as you'd like me to, but no."
"Why would you even care about my friends?"
"I don't care about them, I care about you! They could rot in hell for all I care, and for how they treat you. Only the gods know what you see in them, but whatever you might think, you still need them."
"I don't-"
"You do, Hermione." He took a step towards her, stretching out his hand to her in an offer of peace, and softening his voice. "I know you do, or you wouldn't react like you do to all those letters."
She shook her head in defiance, and narrowed her eyes. "No, I don't, Draco." With that, she left the kitchen again. "I'm not going to talk about it any further, understood? And I think I'd rather be alone tonight."
Draco wanted to retort something, but then swallowed his words, and only watched her leave the room to go upstairs. With a frustrated sigh, he realised that he had to do something in order to fix the situation, or else it would always loom over them, and-in the worst case-destroy whatever they had been exploring over the last few days; he didn't want to lose that, oh no! Besides, as much as he still disliked the group, he didn't want to be the cause for a break-up between them and Hermione, not after having witnessed her behaviour since their last fight... Bloody thick-headed Gryffindors and their damn pride!
****
"Potter. A word with you." Draco leaned against the door frame of Harry's office the next day, amused at the chaos that apparently prevailed any system of order.
"How did you find here?"
"Oh, I do have my charms with some ladies. But I'm not here to talk about that."
Harry closed the file in front of him and leaned back, crossing his arms. "Hermione."
"Yes." Draco acknowledged the still defiant position of the other with a short smirk. "Let me see, one of the words she mentioned most in relation to you and your gang was idiots-"
"I'm sure you suggested it."
"No, I'm even being nice right now, sparing you from the more salacious words she used. You pissed her off, not me."
"What do you want? Gloat about that fact?"
"It's tempting, Potter. But no. I'm here because I think the two of us need to come to an understanding-"
"Pff."
"Potter, stop your act for a moment. You can't be that thick-headed not to see the hurt you're causing."
"What do you mean?"
Draco was not in the least intimidated by Potter's glare in response to his words. “Really, Potter? I've seen her sent your letters back, all of them-”
"Yes, she sent them all back. Except George's and Molly's."
"Exactly."
"Why do you even care about it?"
"And here I was thinking you might have finally understood the wink, but it seems you haven't got the slightest clue. You really should have believed her when she told you that we're just talking. And no, that wasn't a euphemism... Happy with the results?"
Harry let out an irritated sounding sigh. "No."
"I figured. So, this is a favour for Hermione, because-"
"You use her first name?"
"Problem with that? Or are you jumping to conclusions again, Potter? Better live with it."
"Yeah, I figured as much." Harry rubbed his eyes. "Molly told us the same."
Draco nodded. The letter he and Hermione had argued about the day before was the letter from the Weasley matron-the only one he saw opened. The old woman had invited her for a tea to the Burrow, and asked how she was. He wasn't surprised to hear that she had given that group of tossers an earful of her mind, and it seemed to have worked, too. "As I said, this is a favour for her. I'm not here because I suddenly like you, but for Hermione's sake-"
"-we should let go of the past and be friendly enough with each other. Is that what you want?"
"More or less."
"Again, Molly said the same..."
"So, you and your friends will be coming over next Friday to Hermione, and then you'll have that deep conversation with her that she deserves, and you will listen to what she has to say...” Draco made a pause to let his words sink in, and used the time to study his old rival closely, before he continued. “However, you might need to bring the food and drinks. I'm not going to tell her that you're coming because otherwise she might disappear-"
"-before we even arrive. Yes, she can be that stubborn. Okay, we'll come over next Friday. For her, not because you asked."
"This meeting never happened."
Harry nodded, and then pinched his nose bridge before setting his glasses straight. "What's in it for you, by the way? You haven't suddenly turned into a selfless person, have you?"
"Like you? Bloody hope not. But I won't let that one person down who does have the strength to forgive me while you nurtured your prejudices..."
Now Harry started to grin. "You want her."
"Never said that, Potter."
"You know that's hopeless..."
Draco ignored Harry's remark, knowing that the situation was rather different. "You better be there on Friday. I make sure she's home."
***
That next Friday evening, Hermione was preparing for some comfortable reading on the sofa, with Draco next to her, as they now spent most their evenings ever since he had moved in to leave the toxic atmosphere of the Manor. She was, however, not at all prepared for the knock that pulled her from her thoughts.
Draco shrugged when she looked at him questioningly, and continued reading. "I don't think I should open any doors at the moment."
Hermione got up with a sigh when the knock was repeated. "They all know better," she muttered, and finally opened the door.
"Hermione! You're home!"
"What the fuck are you doing here?" she retorted irritated when she saw her friends stand outside her door.
"We're here to apologise," Harry said, "all of us."
"Took you long enough."
"Hermione, we're really sorry. We were just worried you were making a mistake..." Ginny came up. "I mean it was-or rather still is-difficult to understand that you and Malfoy became friends after everything that happened-"
"Maybe you're right, and we should be the better ones," Harry added, mostly to stop Ginny from blabbering on.
"Maybe I'm right?" Hermione retorted.
"Okaaay, you are right, and we were idiots to treat you like that."
"That's better."
"Look, we really mean it-we were lousy friends to let you slip like that," Harry continued. "We didn't listen, and we'd like to remedy that." He held up a bag filled with what looked like groceries. "My pasta is Molly-approved; you wouldn't have to do anything. Well, maybe except let us know where your things are in the kitchen."
Hermione looked at every single one of them-Harry, Ginny, Ron, all of them looking something between embarrassed and apologetic. She just didn't trust the whole thing.
"Please, give us a chance to makes things better. We all promise to listen and not judge," Ginny added, sounding sincerely apologetic.
"Draco's here," Hermione replied coolly, noticing them flinch at her using his first name. "And I won't throw him out just for you..."
"We said we won't judge. So we can live with it, I think."
"All right, you idiots, come in." Hermione stepped aside to let the group in, and pointed them to the kitchen, before going back to the sofa. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked Draco, who was still reading through his book, albeit rather disinterestedly so.
"They claim to be your friends, ask them," he replied without even looking up, though he couldn't hide the smirk fast enough.
"We'll talk later,” she said, having noticed the smirk on his face. “Right now, I'd prefer if you could stay upstairs. They might say that they won't judge, but those are so far just words."
He finally looked at her, and slowly nodded before he got up. "Don't hold back, okay? They promised to listen, and they should. Let them know that they really were idiots." With that, he went for the stairs.
"Malfoy."
"Potter."
"What's going on?" Hermione asked suspiciously, once Draco was out of sight.
"Nothing."
"As if." She followed Harry into the kitchen where everyone else was already trying to find utensils and cutlery. In a way, she was glad they had the courage to come over, but that didn't mean they were excused just yet; she sat down at her small kitchen table to keep an eye on them.
"Out of curiosity-why is Draco here tonight? Did we interrupt one of your talks?" Ginny asked, filling the pot with water.
"He currently stays in the spare room." Hermione had to smirk at their reaction to that information-they all stopped whatever they were doing and just blankly stared at her slack-jawed. "What? The Daily Prophet didn't mention that he moved out of the Manor? They were so keen on everything else..."
"He moved in here?" That was Ron, finally breathing in again.
"What did you think? Nobody wants to sell or rent anything to the Malfoys, and he wants to find something in the Muggle world anyway. I'm just helping out."
"And you really aren't...? I mean... you know," Ginny stammered.
"No." Hermione shook her head; she preferred to keep any further details about her relationship with Draco a secret for the moment-him as her flatmate was already stretching it enough. However, seeing her friends' shocked faces was definitely worth mentioning his moving in.
"You should have heard Mum have a go at us after you left that Sunday," Ron finally continued. "What did she say? Stubbornly blinded by prejudices... I think, idiots was mentioned several times too."
Hermione smirked deviously. "You definitely deserved it, especially for not trusting my word when I said we were only talking."
"It just sounded so incredible, you know? He wasn't one of the good guys-"
"You mean, one of us. No, he wasn't. But who are we to judge him now for that? We all did what we had to do to keep the ones we love as safe as we could, he just had different cards to play and lost."
"But-"
"Ginny, no. You have no idea how lonely he must have been to come to my place. Lonely enough not to care any longer. You haven't seen his eyes that day, you haven't heard him talk. You just assumed. And you didn't even give him a chance when you discovered him after our dinner, Harry. You just insisted on having him chased away."
"It was based on our experience with him, Hermione-"
"Molly was right, stubbornly blinded," Hermione retorted, "I would add stuck in the past to the list."
"Hey, we learned the lesson!" Harry exclaimed, raising his hands in defence.
"Have you?" Hermione looked at every one of them, eyeing them closely. "Are you all willing to see past his mistakes?" She saw them all look at each other, questioning themselves. "Because you will see more of him in the future, whether you like it or not."
"I think we could manage-"
"We'll see about that," Hermione interrupted Harry sceptically. "Merlin knows I'm not asking you to become best friends with him, just to give him a chance to show that he has changed. Because he has. Or I wouldn't let him live here, you know?"
They all nodded. "We get that, now. It might take a while to get comfortable with the idea of Malfoy living here, though," Ron added with an unsure smile.
Hermione smiled genuinely for the first time ever since they arrived; that was what she had wanted all along. "There's another thing I think you should know-I'll return more fully to the wizarding community, and start a new job-"
"Coming back to the Ministry?" Harry asked. "You'd be perfect for that new project-"
"Or join George as a partner, he's looking for one-"
"Hogwarts is searching for new staff-"
"Neither of them. Draco is about to found a charity with the money he's so far inherited-I've seen the number, it's a hilariously substantial sum-and I join him as an equal partner. It's in his name, but besides that, we share all the responsibilities." The kitchen was suddenly quiet, except for a knife falling to the ground; Hermione had expected this reaction to the news, had even joked with Draco about it. "And yes, it was all his idea. He wants to help, and make amends for his family's wrongdoings."
"That..." Ginny was the first to break the silence. "That is... wow."
"It's not going to be easy to convince the society that he means it-" Harry added, agreeing with his girlfriend.
"That's why we join forces-his money, my reputation."
"It's a lot to get used to," Ron admitted. "He's going to be around you all the time."
"Yes. Is that a problem?" Hermione eyed her ex closely, who eventually shook his head.
"Why are you joining him?" Harry asked, sounding something between curious and still sceptical. "I mean it's a good idea and all..."
"Because it gives us both some purpose in life." She saw her friends nod. "I mean I don't want to disappear behind some desk at the Ministry, you know? I want to help others, and his idea sounded good. And maybe we can also steer somewhat against the current course of action the Ministry seems to have taken..."
"And he pays you rather decently."
"I'm not doing it for the money, but yes," she replied with a short grin. It started to feel as if she finally found the connection to her friends once again-they might struggle a bit with her and Draco working and temporarily living together, but at least they were willing to give him a chance now...
"So, want to tell us more about that charity?" Harry finally asked. “I mean it's important to you, so we'd like to know more.”
“Yeah, maybe we could even help out with showing up somewhere, you know?” Ron agreed, and snagged a piece of tomato from the cutting board.
***
It was late that evening when Hermione finally made it to bed; she was tired but content-the dinner had turned into a long-needed conversation with her friends, and she had been able to get it all off her chest. And they even listened to her in earnest when she told them more about their plans with the fund; and she had to admit that she had been pleasantly surprised about their genuine curiosity about both the fund and Draco. But now, all she wanted was drifting off to sleep while spooning comfortably against Draco's chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her. “You talked to Harry, didn't you?” she whispered, when he pulled her closer under the blanket.
“Yes,” he replied with a soft murmur. “You were upset...”
“Draco-”
“Shh...” He placed a sleepy kiss on her shoulder. “As much as I'd like to have you all to myself, I get that you come in a package. You need them, I can live with that.”
She gently took his hand that was placed on her stomach and twined her fingers with his. “Thanks. And I'll make their lives hell if they won't accept you.”
“You don't need to-”
“I do.” She pressed his hand in affirmation. “Just as you accept that I come in a package with them, they'll have to accept that I come in a package with you.”
He pulled her closer in response, and placed another kiss on her shoulder. “This is more than I could ever have hoped for when I came to your place the first time...”
That made Hermione turn around and look at him, surprised to find him gazing at her once more with a surprisingly honest face-it was an expression she now figured fitted him much better than that mask he had worn before. “I know,” she finally whispered softly, and let her fingers run through his hair, pulling him gently closer, until his lips were almost brushing hers.
“I think that saying is true,” he breathed over her lips, “home is where the heart is, I mean.” He kissed her gently, only letting his tongue run over her lips. “And you make me feel home, Hermione.” With that admission, he claimed her lips in a deep kiss.
Hermione was blown away by his words, and she responded with all she got to his kiss, relishing once more that slow, but intense passion between them. “You make me feel home, too,” she murmured breathlessly between kisses. “You, no one else.” She smiled into their kiss when he started to turn on his back, pulling her along until she ended up lying on him. Her smile grew even wider when she could feel his hands sneak under her pyjama top, brushing lightly over her skin. “Just don't stop.”
“Never,” he replied teasingly, and started pulling her top up. “Never...”
END
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