Harry Potter 1. It's Sudden

**Disclaimer: "I own Harry Potter!" said JK Rowling.**

**A/N: First fanfiction ever. Please be gracious.**

**Chapter 1: It's Sudden**

"Oomph!" Hermione stumbled, rather ungraciously, to the floor, her list of clients fluttering around like confetti. She growled, swiveling her gaze around angrily. "What in Merlin's name—oh."

A young toddler sat dumbfounded on the floor, too stunned to cry. He was dressed in a Muggle blue jumper with blue sneakers to match. His lower lip quivered as he nervously clutched his charmed teddy bear, his large grey eyes looking straight back at her. Her stomach lurched, her heart automatically reaching out to the young boy. "I'm sorry," she crooned. She reached out to touch his satiny blond hair, but he immediately retracted, tears finally overflowing his pale chubby face. "Papa!" he bawled, scooting closer to the wall. Hermione sat there in disbelief before shaking her head and pulling out her wand to collect the papers. She stood up and dusted herself off, grimacing at the thought of her coworkers seeing her. _Let his father deal with this. I'll just go and apologize. Even though no one should be bringing their child to work anyway_. She turned her head to look at him once more. The boy had somehow stopped crying and simply sat there, watching Hermione's every move. The bear wiped the remainder of the tears away with its fluffed up paw and gazed at her as well. She frowned. "I—"

"There you are!" Harry exclaimed. He jogged down the hallway, his face showing his great relief. Hermione grinned. "Har—"

"Don't go running off like that. You worried me and your father," Harry bent down to the little boy, scruffing up his platinum blond hair. She gaped in disbelief; Harry was looking for him. She rolled her eyes, tucking her wand back in her pocket and making her way down the hallway. _Of course he wasn't looking for me. We haven't talked since—_

"Hermione?"

She froze, turning her head first, then the rest of her body. Harry had the young boy in his arms, a sympathetic look on his face. He smiled nervously. She couldn't help but smile back. "Hey," she replied softly. He looked away before forcing himself to look back into her almond brown eyes. "Listen, I'm sorry I haven't spoken to you lately…you know how Ron is right now…but you don't deserve to be ignored by me. And it was your decision to end it, but I'll still be your best friend no matter if you're dating Ron or not so…"

He coughed nervously, eyeing the hallway behind her. She nodded, knowing he was on lookout for Ron. _It's been two months…_

She placed an affectionate hand on his arm, showing him all was forgiven. "It-It's alright, Harry. I…understand. I would prefer if you stayed with him and helped him through this. I know he might be taking it hard."

"Might?" he asked jokingly with the familiar spark in his green eyes. She laughed and nodded, feeling a tad guilty for speaking about Ron's feelings and laughing about it. "I miss hanging out with the three of us, you know? But it's a little too soon to ask for that right now. Could you…come by my flat tonight?"

He smiled and nodded. "I'll come around seven and we'll have some dinner."  
>Hermione adjusted the heavy load of papers in her arms. "Okay," she breathed excitedly. He smiled, tilting his head and adjusting his glasses. She turned around slowly, biting her lip from excitement. "'Mione?"<p>

"Yes?" she raised a brow at him.

"I missed you," he grinned boyishly and turned on his heel to his office.

"I haven't had such a good dinner in a while," Hermione sighed, leaning back on her couch and patting her stomach. Harry lay comfortably next to her with a contented smile on his face. Boxes of Chinese food were strewn all over her coffee table, Crookshanks occasionally taking a nibble at the leftover orange chicken. Harry tossed her a fortune cookie. "Open it."

She nodded, grabbing each end and cracking it down the middle. She popped one half of it in her mouth and gingerly pulled out the small piece of paper. Hermione grinned in amusement. "Hey, get a load of this. 'Save _your patience for what lies down the road'_."

They both laughed until Harry pulled his out. He coughed and sat up, smiling to himself. "_'Be prepared to change your life for the better_.'"

They laughed again, falling in a comfortable silence in each other's presence. "How's Ginny?" she asked, standing up and clearing away the table. Harry did as well, lazily pulling out his wand. "She's doing very well. So are James and Albus. They miss you a lot, you know. Two months is a lot."

She couldn't help but smile at the thought of the Potter family. They were practically picture-perfect: beautiful, doting wife; caring, loving (albeit cheesy) husband, and two well-behaved children. Anyone and everyone wanted to be like them. Even she had entertained the idea of having a family like that, but pushed it away when she ended it with Ron. Hermione was surprised she didn't cry over him—over the break up, actually. He had made her cry too many times in the past. She sighed, gathering the trash in her arms. Harry raised a brow curiously, but she beat him to it. "I prefer doing it this way. It's fine, really," she assured him as she dumped the boxes in the trash. He nodded, glancing at the clock. It was already 8:30. Hermione returned, wiping her hands on her jeans and sitting back down in her usual spot. "Sorry, I just washed my hands. Harry, I've been dying to know…who was that boy I ran into in the hallway this morning?"

Harry chuckled. "I had a feeling you'd ask sometime. He's the son of a friend of mine. He brought his son with him when he came to see me."

An owl appeared, pecking furiously at Hermione's window. Harry recognized the black creature and bolted to the window. He opened it and allowed the bird entrance. It didn't budge, simply extending its leg for him. Harry rolled his eyes. "Always in a rush, aren't you, Poseidon?"

The owl cooed in agreement before flapping off into the night. Harry unraveled the note and shut the window. He frowned. "Hermione. How would you like to meet the boy and his father again?"

Hermione shrugged indifferently. "Why not? I'm free tomorrow, surprisingly."

Harry grinned, kissing the top of her head and heading to the fireplace. "Wonderful. I best be getting home. I'll pick you up tomorrow at ten."  
>He picked up some Floo powder, and with one more happy grin, left Hermione. She sank into the couch, drumming her fingers against her flat stomach. Her familiar settled comfortably next to her, his tail swishing back and forth contentedly. She couldn't help but smile; Harry had invited her somewhere. She couldn't possibly say no!<p>

The two stood in front of a large, towering estate, the cold wind nipping at their cheeks. Hermione looked around the abandoned road for any sign of life. Nothing. She was about to cast a warming charm on themselves before Harry tugged her along gently toward the grand estate. "You didn't tell me he was your friend," Hermione hissed, punching him in the arm. He winced and looked apologetically at her. "I'm sorry, but Malfoy asked for you."

"Why? I see no reason to see him. Unless he wants to insult me again." she crossed her arms defiantly and huffed. Harry rolled his eyes. "'Mione, you're the one who suggested we forgive the bloke."

"But I thought we would never see him again!" she countered, shooting daggers at the Malfoy Manor in front of them as though it should feel disgusted with itself. Harry shook his head. "C'mon, 'Mione. He asked for you. And he's...different now."

Hermione rolled her eyes but followed Harry up the pathway to the Manor. She would admit that it changed in appearance. It no longer had a gloomy aura surrounding it, and the landscape was simply bursting with life. Weeping willows swayed gently in the chilling breeze, and small clusters of flowers surrounded the Manor, most likely thanks to magic. Hermione couldn't help but admire the estate itself, temporarily forgetting what had happened in there. Harry knocked thrice on the giant black door, unconsciously smoothing out his jacket. A small house-elf opened the door, a toothy grin spreading over her face. "The Boy Who Lived! Crumpy is happy to see Master Potter!"

Harry rubbed the top of Crumpy's head affectionately. "Hello again, Crumpy."

The elf turned and curtsied to Hermione. "Hello, Master. Crumpy is pleased to meet you. Yes, yes, very."

Hermione forced a smile, looking over the elf carefully. "Hello, Crumpy. I'm Hermione."

Crumpy bobbed his head up and down and bowed deeply. "Crumpy will show Master Potter and Master Hermione to Master Draco."

He skipped merrily, stopping every once in a while to make sure they were following. They turned down one hallway and climbed up one set of stairs, bumping into other elves as they went. They were just as jolly as Crumpy. "What is going on here?" Hermione whispered, eyeing a painting of a beautiful young woman. She glared at Hermione, covering half of her face with an ornate fan. "Look, girls. We have...company," she uttered with complete distain. The other portraits pointed and giggled at her, whispering and rolling their eyes. Harry frowned and wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulder. She shook him off, jutting her chin up with pride. She squared her shoulders and huffed, catching up to Crumpy. He was waiting patiently by the door, holding it open for the two of them before disappearing with a pop. Hermione looked around the quaint little study. It was mainly emerald green with green carpet, a green sofa pushed in the corner, and matching green curtains surrounding a window overlooking the gardens below. The walls were lined with all kinds of books, even more were cluttered around the mahogany desk in the middle of the room. Harry settled down on the sofa, pulling off his glasses and wiping them on his shirt. Hermione decided to stand, looking at his massive collection of books. There were plenty that she had never seen or heard of before, and that was saying something.

"Hey, Potter. Scorpius is-Hello there."

Hermione whirled around. There stood the one and only Draco Malfoy. He was donning a navy blue suit and white tie, his platinum blond hair was combed neatly to the side, steel grey eyes wide in mild surprise. Hermione fought the urge to cross her arms and spit out an insult. It was natural habit. She dug her hands into her pockets nervously. "Malfoy."

He glanced at Harry uneasily before resuming his gaze on Hermione. "Granger. I can't believe you actually showed up."

She rolled her eyes. "Spit it out, Malfoy."

He held up his chin smugly and made his way to his desk. "Of course. I'm sure Harry has informed you of the proposition I made for you."

Harry squirmed in his seat, flashing him a weak smile. Draco sighed, folding his hands in front of him. "I'm here to ask for your help. There's been…Death Eater-like activity going on."

"We're hoping to keep this under wraps," Harry piped in. Draco nodded and continued. "Potter and I have agreed to work this together, but we can't have him constantly leaving the office when things turn up. That's where you come in."

Hermione raised her brow, lips pursed. Draco pulled out a piece of paper and slid it across the desk for her to see. It was an application sheet. Her face contorted with disgust. "I'm supposed to be your secretary?"

Harry immediately stood up and placed a soothing hand on her shoulder. He had warned Draco beforehand on his best friend's reaction, but that didn't deter him at all. "It's just a cover up, 'Mione."

"Do you _KNOW_ who I am?" she screeched, whipping out her wand and ignoring whatever Harry said. "I am one the best Aurors in the ministry. I am the brightest witch of our age. I helped bring down Voldemort. I—" she huffed, narrowing her eyes. "Don't think for one second I'll degrade myself to serve you and your whimsical purposes!"  
>She huffed in indignation, staring him straight in the eye. Sure, she had taken things out of proportion, but Hermione was sick and tired of being pushed down into doing things she knew she didn't have to do. She was regarded as the brightest witch of her age, but treated like a student fresh out of school. They regarded her as a fragile being, and only sent her on missions where she didn't do much. Most of her work was in her office, doing opened her mouth to say more, but Draco cut her off. "Whimsical purposes you say? Might I inform you how dangerous Death Eaters ARE?"<p>

"I know that," she snapped. "But how do I know for sure they're the ones behind everything?"

"We don't," he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "But we're taking precautions here. We don't want anybody's blood spilled because we weren't aware of the Death Eaters' presence."

That very phrase shook her back to reality. It wasn't about her. She had to do whatever it took to keep the wizarding world—Heck, even the Muggle world—safe. Her pride didn't matter. Her needs didn't matter. Her hopes didn't matter. What mattered was saving the world by Harry's side. Even if she had Draco Malfoy as the other teammate instead of Ron. She slowly wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the floor. "How can I help?"

Draco, slightly amused by her sudden change in attitude, pulled out a quill and handed it to her. "Resign your job and become my personal secretary. You'll still work for me, of course, but the work is very light. I need someone who can get up and go in a moment's notice. If I ever catch a lead, you and I will go and investigate and inform Potter. It's a good thing he's the head, if something ever happens, we've got the Ministry on our side."

Hermione nodded, reading over the document carefully. She read it thrice more to make sure she didn't miss any important details. The terms were all agreeable, and the pay was extravagant. She furrowed her brow in confusion. "Malfoy. I have to live here?"

He nodded, fiddling with his wand lazily. "Yes, but you're free to go and do whatever you need. I only request you stay on weekdays, and that you're easily contacted when you're away."

Hermione nodded. That was rather unsuspected. She figured she would be a prisoner if she stayed, but if all she needed to do was be ready for secret missions, she was perfectly fine. Harry squeezed her shoulder, urging her to finish up. She signed her name quickly, sliding the paper and quill across the desk. Draco took it, raising a brow curiously. "Still a Granger? I'm surprised."

"Malfoy..." Harry warned. Draco held up his hands in mock surrender. "Anyway, I've got to run. Granger, I'll see you next week."

Draco excused himself with a swift nod and left without another word. Hermione relaxed once she no longer felt Draco's presence. Harry gave her an uncertain smile. "Sorry, 'Mione. I-I know that I could trust you with this." Hermione looked at him and waved it off. "Anything for the Boy-Who-Lived."


	2. It's Secretive

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns these beautiful people and the Harry Potter Universe itself.**

**A/N: Just one click of a button and you get the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to dun dun na nun! Review!**

**Chapter 2: It's Secretive**

"Honestly, Harry, it's not like I'm going to kill the guy," Hermione rolled her eyes, shrinking down her luggage and shoving it in her pocket. Harry nodded dumbly, shifting the weight on his feet. He had insisted on accompanying her to the Manor and helping her settle in, more along the lines of making sure Draco would see to it that Hermione would have a comfortable stay. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. No one would hurt Hermione ever again. She bustled about, setting up everything once more in her small flat. No matter what, Hermione was insistent she clean her home before she left it. _She's probably doing it to stall…_ he thought as she vigorously searched her home for something she might have missed. Hermione sighed, placing her hands on her hips and making her way to the fireplace. "I guess this is it."

After one last glance at what she considered home, she took some Floo powder and left with Harry following soon after.

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><p>"Pleasure to meet you again, Granger," Draco greeted casually. She merely gave him a curt nod and stalked inside. Draco raised a curious brow at Harry. "What's up her arse?"<p>

Harry shrugged. "She's taking it better than I expected. Let's just leave it at that."

The two followed her as she was guided by one of the elves to her new room. Harry shoved his hands in his pockets. "You gave her a good room, right, Malfoy?"

He waved it off, a smug smile playing on his features. "Of course. Only the best for the Golden Girl."

Harry was about to question if his friend was serious or not, but decided against it. He would see it for himself, after all. They climbed up a set of stairs and walked down an airy hallway. It seemed strangely damp thanks to the weather outside. Draco jutted his chin out, gesturing to an open door at the end of the hallway. "That would be Granger's room."

The room was a pleasant shade of creamy white, a large bay window overlooking an empty plot of land next to the Manor. A desk was placed in the corner of the room, complete with parchments of paper and several sets of ink. The king-sized bed was covered in golden tapestry, two night-stands standing on either side of it. A large white wardrobe stood on the opposite wall. The loo was right next to it, and from what Harry could see, it looked as fancy as the bedroom itself. _Hmm…White…_ he dully noted the choice of color; he figured Draco would have chosen what his assumptions would have: red. Or he would have used green just to spite her. Hermione sat on her desk chair and crossed legs lazily, pulling out her wand and moving all her clothes from the trunk to the wardrobe in less than a minute, looking carefully at the two men in the doorway. Harry grinned. "Do you like it?"

She nodded, much to his relief. Draco looked around, his grey eyes scrutinizing every single detail in the room. He blinked twice, looking straight at Hermione. "You actually _like_ it?"

"What?" she sneered. "Is there something wrong with simple?"

He held up his hands in surrender, shaking his head. "Not at all."

He turned to Harry. "Stay as long as you want. I'll bring Scorpius around and introduce him to her in about an hour. He's still taking his nap."

He nodded, flopping down on Hermione's bed. It was very soft; like sitting on a cloud. "Sure thing."

An awkward silence filled the room, the trio occasionally glancing at each other, waiting for someone to say something. It didn't happen, and Draco excused himself for some work in his office. Hermione stared out the window, her hands resting on either side of her face, her elbows on her knees. Harry watched her for a moment, trying to decipher what exactly was going on in her mind. Obviously, there was her living situation to think about, but the far-off look in her eyes implied something else. Harry took this chance to finally study her after two months of silence. Her hair was still the same, caramel curls ending just a little past her shoulders. Her doe-like eyes were filled with thoughts Harry wished he could intrude upon and figure out—but then again, she would simply hex him to oblivion if he tried to read her mind. Her face had grown a little thin, but barely. Her porcelain skin was as pale as before, so Harry didn't bother worrying over that. Hermione snapped out of her trance on her own, sweeping her gaze over to Harry. "How's Ron?" she hoarsely whispered. _So that's what she's been thinking about_… He shrugged. "He's doing better recently."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Really?"

"Well...Yeah. Sorry, 'Mione. He still-"

She shook her head and smiled somberly. "No, Harry. Don't be sorry. I'm glad he's getting better."

"He still gets temper tantrums whenever he gets reminded of you, though," he softly finished. He searched her face for any signs of alarm, or sadness, or anger. Nothing. It looked like she was expecting it. Harry fought the urge to jump up and hug her, not really knowing what response he would get from the almighty Hermione Granger. He picked up his wrist, looking up at Hermione. "I-I have to go..."

She nodded, dragging her feet toward him and wrapping her arms around him as he stood up. He hugged her back and kissed the top of her head, murmuring into her soft, sweet-scented head, "Draco will take care of you."

And with that, he left, leaving a very befuddled Hermione in her room.

* * *

><p>Hermione lay on her bed, mulling over ideas of decoration. She figured she would be here awhile. Boredom got the best of her, and she slipped on a pair of sneakers and a warm sweater and ventured outside her room. She shut the oak door carefully, tucking a curl behind her ear and walking cautiously down the hallway. She made her way down the stairs, wand in hand. <em>Merlin, it's like I'm trying to escape…<em> She paused, looking at a grand painting of Draco. He had his arms folded behind his back, gazing at something afar off. His lips wore a faint smile, his grey eyes soft with an emotion she didn't recognize.

"Draco's a sweetheart. And good looks to boot," a cheery voice said. Hermione whirled around to see an elderly woman knitting in a chair. Her auburn hair fell loosely around her shoulders, warm green eyes peering down at the young witch. She set her knitting aside and smoothed out her emerald green gown. "Don't you think so, dear?"

She furrowed her brows. "Who are you?"

The woman smiled. "I'm a painting Draco rescued."

"Rescued?"

She nodded, her smile faltering. "Yes, my dear. I was being tossed out because I wasn't as beautiful as a previous painting. Draco saw me and took me home. He comes by every once in a while to check on me. Good boy, that one is."

Hermione shook her head in disbelief, turning to look at Draco's portrait once more. The woman sighed contentedly and picked up her knitting once more. "My name is Lady Faye. Who might you be?"

"Hermione Granger. It's a pleasure to meet you."

She couldn't help but tear her gaze away from Faye to look up at Draco's face again. He didn't look like the sneering, annoying, insufferable git in that painting. His calm demeanor proved otherwise. Hermione wondered how they were able to get his face to look like that.

"That was painted soon after Scorpius was born," Faye added lowly. "You should have seen him, dear. He was practically glowing. This painting does him no justice."

Hermione tilted her head and squinted her eyes, trying to imagine exactly how he must have looked. She couldn't. She bade the portrait goodbye and continued along the first floor, occasionally seeing house-elves working or playing around. She would have been indignant about living in a place with working house-elves, but seeing them running around and playing was enough to satisfy her for the time being. She turned down another hallway, wondering why it seemed so gloomy. "Master Hermione!"

She had pulled back a curtain, hoping to find a window overlooking some scenery outside, only to discover a bolted up door. It was covered in cobwebs and dust, magically locked and, surprisingly, locked the Muggle way as well. Hearing Crumpy's voice, she kept her curiosity at bay and looked up at the frantic house-elf. He tugged on her sleeve, eyes wide in worry. "Master Hermione must not go near here. Master Draco doesn't want anyone to go near here. Crumpy and the others are not allowed to clean here either. Must also make sure Master Scorpius does not come close to the bad door too. No one must come close to this door."

"But I was just—"

"Crumpy?" Draco's voice called from the top of the stairs. Crumpy yelped, tugging on Hermione's sleeve. "Crumpy?" he called again. "Would you mind fetching Miss Granger and sending her to the dining room? It's lunch time."

"Yes, Master! Crumpy will fetch Master Hermione!" he smiled up at Draco, even though they both knew he wouldn't see. Hoping not to distress the elf any further, she allowed him to take her to the dining room. He held the door open for her and pulled out the chair, promising to escort her wherever she wished to go. As long as it wasn't the 'Forbidden Door'. The room was large but simple, containing a large mahogany table adorned with a golden table cloth, a two warm chandeliers hanging above them. A plush grey carpet covered the wooden floors. Hermione was tempted to bend down and touch it. A simple portrait hung above the massive fireplace, the old musician smiling playfully at her. She smiled back of course, wondering why Draco had so many portraits that seemed irrelevant to his tastes. The wallpaper was a deep shade of blue with golden trimmings. Draco appeared not long after, nodding at the portrait and sitting in the chair across from her. "Granger," he greeted, "I hope you're finding this not too bad."

She rolled her eyes. "It's great here, Malfoy. I—"

"Papa. I here," a small boy appeared in the doorway, dressed in a jean jumper and a plain white t-shirt. He looked rather sullen, making his way to his usual seat. He plopped his bear down on the table, his grey eyes staring up at Hermione. "What are you?"

"It's 'who', Scorp. You're talking to a lady," Draco gently chided, taking the bear and setting it down on a spare chair. Scorpius paid no attention to his father and frowned. "I no like her, Papa. Go away."

Hermione smiled dryly, her hand itching to smack some respect into the boy. But Draco beat her to it. "Scorpius Malfoy. Men don't treat ladies like that. Apologize."

Scorpius looked pleadingly at his father, but he refused to budge. He looked sullenly at her. "Sorry."

"Scorpius…" Draco warned, but Hermione held up her hand. "It's fine, Draco."

She looked down at the pouting toddler. "I forgive you. My name is Hermione."

He stared up at her with a bored expression on his face, merely nodding before staring down at his chubby hands. Draco frowned, looking up at her. "I'm sorry. He's not usually like this. Maybe he's just being cross from waking up from his nap."

Hermione nodded as the elves appeared and placed the food on the table. They bowed and scurried out of the room to play. Draco turned around to the portrait. "Pourriez-vous jouer pour nous, monsieur?"

The man nodded, pulling out his violin and playing a soft, but cheery tune. He took a bite of his salad. Hermione gawked in disbelief. "You speak French?"

He shrugged, a smug smile playing on his lips. She frowned. "Why?"

He shrugged again. "Astoria wanted me to speak to her in French, so I learned."

She looked down at her plate, hoping she didn't strike a nerve, and felt her stomach growl in anticipation. The elves served fettuccini alfredo, a side of salad, and pumpkin juice. She coughed hesitantly, reminding herself not to stuff her mouth in the presence of the Malfoys. She glanced up at Draco as she took a bite, inwardly cursing his etiquette. Even the boy was displaying some manners. They ate in silence until Scorpius scooted his chair back, took his bear, and left. Hermione pushed the plate away from her, leaning back in the chair and watching Draco warily. "I'm impressed, Malfoy."

He looked up at her with a confused expression. "What?"

"Your son. He's not half bad."

He puffed out his chest slightly, a cocky grin plastered on his face. "Thank you."

She rolled her eyes, standing up and making her way to the door. She paused, turning around and leaning on the doorframe. "Malfoy."

He was standing, conversing with the painting before switching his gaze back to her. "Yes, Granger?"

"What do you do for fun around here?" she asked, innocently enough. He grinned impishly at her.

* * *

><p>"You're good, Malfoy. But I've seen better," Hermione said in between gasps. Draco chuckled, buttoning up his shirt. He wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve and sat up. Hermione was content laying down, watching him with half-lidded eyes. "I won't go easy on you next time, Granger."<p>

She laughed haughtily. "Just admit you lost, Malfoy! I'm a better witch than you!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "You cheated."

"It's impossible to cheat in a duel. You know, unless you use an Unforgivable," she countered, sitting up and dusting the grass off of her sweater. Draco frowned, raising a single brow. "But Langlock? Really?"

"That's a simple spell!"

"And Jelly-legs jynx? What is with the elementary spells?"

She huffed, a smile playing on her lips. "Well, you lost because of them, so snap your trap."

Draco smirked and pushed himself off the floor. "We should get inside before you get sick."

"Me? Sick?" she asked, feigning disbelief. "Shouldn't you be worrying about yourself, Malfoy?"

He placed a hand on his chest, smiling pompously. "Malfoys _never_ get sick."

"Well, neither do _I," _she tugged off her dampened sweater and crossed her arms to emphasize her point. Draco shrugged nonchalantly and made his way inside. "Suit yourself."

"Don't even think of casting a warming charm, Malfoy!" she barked. He waved his wand mockingly, but she felt no change in the atmosphere. She leaned back, supporting her weight with her arms and looked up at the bleak grey sky. She actually liked the silence. It helped her concentrate more. She lifted up her t-shirt sleeve and used a healing spell on the bruise she received from one of Draco's spells. She flinched, feeling the spell take its toll, but the pain slowly ebbed away. Hermione actually enjoyed the duel. Draco didn't go easy on her like her previous spar partners, and she appreciated that more than the pampering and doting she received from her friends and family. "I don't need to be pampered and doted," she muttered to herself, closing her eyes and inhaling the cold, clean air. Maybe, just maybe, Malfoy really wasn't that bad. After about an hour of rest, she sauntered inside and retreated to her bedroom. After a long, relaxing, scent-filled bath, Hermione sat at her desk, fiddling with her quill. She bit her lip and dipped the quill in one of the ink bottles.

_Dear Ginny,_

_ I hear you are doing well. I'm sorry for not contacting you these past few months. I hope you're not upset with me. You know why I didn't try to contact you, Gin. Harry says Ron is doing well, so I hope he isn't being a complete arse to you. I miss you terribly. I'm doing fine, no need to think this is an urgent plea for help. I accepted a job away from the Ministry. It's not as stressful, but not boring either. Give a kiss to James and Al for me would you? And, if you don't hate me anymore, would you like to go to Diagon Alley with me? _

_ Love,_

_ Hermione_

_ P.S. If you're not up for it, don't feel bad. I don't want to guilt trip you. Oh no, this looks like a guilt trip move. But it's not! Not that I'm discouraging you to come, I really do want to see you! But if you don't want to, I'm fine. Wait, not really. Well, I would, but not to the point where I'd hex you. I would never! I—nevermind. You shouldn't bother. It's fine. Hugs and kisses to the rest of the family from me._

_ Love, _

_ Hermione. Again._

Hermione didn't bother writing another, angrily noting all the parchments of paper she already wasted. She scanned over the letter once more; perhaps she could make Ginny laugh with her little side note. "Crumpy?"

The elf appeared with a bright smile on his face. He bowed. "Master Hermione called?"

She rolled up the parchment and looked around. "Where is the owlery?"

Crumpy bobbed his head in understanding. "If Master Hermione wishes, Crumpy will take it to the owlery. Yes, yes. Crumpy knows where the owlery is."

Hermione knelt down and handed it to him. "Can you make sure the owl isn't too feisty?"

Crumpy nodded, stepping back and disappearing with a loud 'pop'. Hermione laid down on her bed, embracing the wave of exhaustion she felt from her first day. She figured Harry would be a little worried, but dismissed the idea. Ginny would show Harry the letter. She stretched, her breathing slowing down as she fell into a deep slumber.


	3. It's Simple

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling has the mind of a bloody genius to create such wonderful people.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: It's Simple<strong>

A week had already passed, and Hermione was able to make her way around the inhabited part of the house without Crumpy's help. She still accepted his offer whenever he offered it, too afraid to make the poor house-elf cry. She was surprised at how well she had adjusted to her living conditions. She was even able to borrow some of the books she found in Draco's study, as long as she never took them out of the room. She would have thrown a fit, but thought it was pointless. Thus, she was found sprawled on his green couch as he scribbled away at his documents. They never spoke to each other unless informing the other that it was mealtime, or when Draco would excuse himself to play with his son, or when Hermione would go out on her daily walks.

"Granger," Malfoy called, rubbing his eyes with two fingers, a deep frown on his face. Hermione looked up from her book. "Yes, Malfoy?"

"I…I've decided to give you a task," he muttered, stifling a yawn. It was almost close to midnight, and Hermione chose to stay up with him in case anything went wrong. He had been staying up late ever since she began to live with him. Hermione sat upright, closing her book and using one of her fingers as a bookmark. She nodded, wondering what exactly he would have her do. Draco sighed, finally opening his eyes and looking affectionately at a photo of his son that he kept at his desk. "I need you to play Matchmaker."

She stifled a laugh, standing up and re-heating the tea he had left out. She set her wand down on the desk once she was satisfied the tea was warm, her eyes still twinkling at his request. "Malfoy, you're just really tired. Drink this up and go to bed."

"I'm serious, Granger," he grunted, snatching the tea cup and gulping it down. She frowned at him and shook her head. He merely glared at her and continued, "I can't stand the idea of Scorpius being alone anymore."

"He's not. He has you," she replied, taking the tea cup and refilling it again with a certain charm. She set it down, waiting for his reply. He tugged on his silvery white hair, shaking his head. "I'm not enough, Granger. "

"Don't say that," she urged, keeping her voice as low and soothing as possible. He shook his head again. "His mother left him as soon as she could. I _let_ her leave. And now, I need to find him a new mum. A good one."

"Why don't you just hire a nanny?" she asked, beginning to organize his papers. She was tempted to ask whatever happened to Astoria Malfoy-once-again-Greengrass, but decided her previous question was better. Hermione focused on the task at hand. She knew what to do with them anyway. Those moments when Draco would nearly pass out from exhaustion, she would make sure he got to his room, cleaning up after him and making everything readily available when he awoke the next morning. Draco stared at her in disbelief. "Did you not hear me? I said I needed to find him a _mum_. I can't just hire anybody. I need her to stay around, and the only way is to marry her."

Hermione remained silent to his crazy plan, glancing at him when she was finished with his papers. He rubbed his jaw with both hands, rolling his neck to get all the knots out. "So…go and matchmake for me."

She rolled her eyes, making her way back to the sofa and grabbing her book. "That's a stupid idea, Malfoy."

_But_ _he wants to date again for the sake of his son…_She frowned, standing on her toes to push the book back on the shelf. She sighed. It was half-way in, but she wasn't tall enough to push it all the way to its original spot. "Accio wan—"

"Granger!" Draco bolted up as the book toppled over and hit her forehead. She yelped in pain, gripping her head as she stared angrily at the book lying on the floor. Draco stood beside her, gingerly picking up the book and setting it on its original bookcase. "You okay?"

"Of course!" she snapped back, making her way to the door. A blush crawled up her cheeks in embarrassment. "I'll _matchmake_ for you tomorrow, Malfoy. Accio wand."

She caught it with her left hand, using her right to apply pressure to the bruise developing on her forehead. She made her way to her bedroom, hoping Lady Faye was awake. Much to her dismay, the woman wasn't even in her portrait. Her head was throbbing, forcing her to continue to her room. She tried in vain to use a charm to make the pain go away. _Damn pain won't even let me concentrate_… She plopped down on her bed, ignoring the urge to get up and brush her teeth. She lay there for a few minutes, the urge to brush her teeth getting stronger as the time passed. Habits got the best of her, and she stomped into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Her parents' career had driven that habit into her very soul. She didn't mind actually. Except for today. She squinted at her reflection, poking the bruise tentatively. "For Godric's sake…" she mumbled to herself as she snuggled under the covers.

* * *

><p>Hermione woke up later than she had planned, scurrying to the study as soon as she could to give Draco a piece of her mind. Her pain had subsided, leaving behind a big purple blotch on her forehead, much to her distaste. She brushed some curls back with her hand, peering in through the open doorway. It was empty. She cautiously stepped inside, her eyes glued to a piece of paper in the middle of his desk. She picked it up, rolling her eyes at the title.<p>

**List of Things I Want In THE Woman**

**1. Scorpius adores her.**

**2. Not the typical woman.**

Hermione tucked the piece of paper in her jean pocket and skipped down the stairs to breakfast. They served it the minute she arrived, bowing once before disappearing to Merlin-knows-where. She felt lonely as she picked at her pancakes, occasionally glancing at the door for Draco's appearance. He had always eaten every single meal with her and Scorpius. Gulping down the last of her pumpkin juice, she scurried back to the study to see if he had returned. He hadn't. Hermione returned to her room to take a bath, greeting good morning to Lady Faye. The woman laughed in astonishment. "My dear, it's already two in the afternoon!"

Hermione shook her head. "No, it's only ten 'o clock. I never wake up later than tha—"

"Hermione, is that a bruise on your forehead, dearie? Oh, you must be terrified, ruining that beautiful face of yours!" the woman exclaimed, placing a hand on her cheek. Hermione blushed, combing her fingers over her bangs to cover the bruise. "It-It's nothing, Lady Faye."

She looked up at the portrait. "I'm fine. I was just about to go ahead and get rid of it right now."

Lady Faye bade her goodbye and continued with the knitting she would never finish, glancing every now and then at the retreating witch. Hermione swung open the door, poking the bruise and muttering a string of curses under her breath. A rolled up parchment and a small vial caught her attention. She picked both up from her desk, lifting the vial up to the light cautiously. She put the vial down and unraveled the letter.

_Dearest Hermione,_

_ It's about time you wrote me! I miss you more than you know. I'd love to go to Diagon Alley with you. We need to catch up and what not. James and Albus have been wondering where you are, so I hope you don't mind if I bring them along. I sort of promised them. Your little note was cute, Hermione, don't get me wrong. Merlin, I miss you so much I kept reading your note over and over and over again. How about we meet Nov. 1?_

_ Write back soon,_

_ Gin_

Hermione grinned, forgetting all about her bruise for a moment. She pulled out a small piece of paper and scribbled, _I'd love to._

She rolled it up and dashed down the hallway and out to the courtyard. She nearly tripped over something and screeched to a halt. Scorpius' charmed bear looked up at her lazily, its buttoned eyes watching her every move. Hermione rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. "Scorpius? Don't just leave your toys laying around—"

Scorpius glared at her and placed a finger on his lips. He pointed to a few white peacocks nestled in the grass, his free hand holding his bear's. "Monsters," he whispered seriously. He nodded once at his bear and charged from his hiding spot, screaming his warcry. The peacocks shot up and dashed away, but Scorpius continued to chase them until he was out of breath. He sat there on the grass, smiling proudly. Hermione knelt down next to him, watching as the peacocks gathered once more and settled down in the grass. Scorpius looked up at her and grinned. "I kill monster."

Hermione nodded and chuckled, dusting off her jeans and heading to the owlery. She whistled for an owl, one perching immediately next to her and extending a leg. She tied it, petting its brown-feathered head. "Take this to Ginny Potter, if you don't mind. No need to wait for a reply."

The owl hooted in understanding and flew off. Hermione watched it go until it was a small speck in the distance. She shut the owlery cage door and ambled inside.

* * *

><p>"Honestly, Draco, you shouldn't keep randomly popping in here. My husband will think badly of me," a young woman drawled, wrapping a towel around her body. Her thick black hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, her skin glowing from the Mediterranean sun. She offered him a glass of lemonade which he coolly denied. Draco sat apprehensively on one of the white plush sofas in the picturesque villa overlooking the sea. "I'm here for Scorpius."<p>

"Again?" she pouted, setting the glass down on a nearby table. Draco frowned. "He's your _son_, Astoria. Shouldn't you care at least a little?"

She sat down on a chair across from him and crossed her long, lean legs. Astoria checked her fingernails casually, occasionally glancing at him under half-lidded eyes. "Draco, as much as I care, I've moved on with my life. That includes your son."

He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth together. "Astoria…"

She frowned, tightening her ponytail as an awkward silence filled the room. Draco stared at the floor, his hands clasped together. His hair was combed neatly to the side as usual, but his clothes were wrinkled and wreaked of firewhiskey. Astoria sat down next to him and patted his shoulder. "Draco Malfoy. Why do you keep coming back and reminding me of the past?"

His shoulders slumped, defeated. "I didn't know you'd actually leave us."

"Now, now, don't fret. You'll ruin that beautiful face of yours," she crooned, massaging his neck with one hand. He tensed up under her touch but finally gave in after a few minutes of silence. "You know, I'm never going to be able to thank you enough for what you did for me."

He scowled, but she pressed her thumb into a certain knot in his neck, making him relax once more. "What are you talking about? Once you gave birth to Scorpius, I didn't need you anymore, and I kicked you out."

She laughed, shaking her head. "You don't need to lie to me. I know the truth."

He grunted in response. She stopped massaging him and placed her hand on his knee. "You found out the reason you were marrying me, Draco. And do you remember what you promised me on our wedding day?"

He shook his head, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes. Astoria continued, "You said, 'Everyone deserves a chance at happiness. I promise to give you that.' I couldn't believe you actually followed through."

"Yeah, after finding a loophole in our marriage agreement," Draco opened one eye at her, bolting upright and pulling her closer to him as she broke down into a sob. "Why are you crying?"

"B-Because I'm h-happy," she hiccupped, smiling through her tears. He rolled his eyes, trying in vain to suppress a smirk. He always knew Astoria was a sensitive woman, but he never was able to get used to her tears. He remembered the first time he saw her cry. It was on the fateful night of their engagement, he caught her crying in another man's arms. He questioned her about that night, and she opened up honestly. She was in love with a younger man from Beauxbaxton, constantly writing him letters when he appeared as a delegate in the Triwizard Tournament. Draco swore he would help her, claiming it was something to do with her tears. _Those awful tears…_ he thought as he held her in his arms. He had planned on having her fall in love with him, and as a last minute resort, offered her freedom if she gave him a child. Yet, not even her own son could convince her to stay by his side. She sniffled, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. "You gave me what you promised. I-I didn't know I'd ever be able to be with Martin again."

_But that's not what I meant…_He ran a hand through his hair and smirked, hiding his disappointment at the mention of her husband's name. Astoria wiped her eyes. "Draco, darling, you've got to find love on your own."

"No need," he muttered, "I've got my secretary doing that for me."

Her eyebrows rose in surprise, her brown eyes glittering from the tears and joy. She stood up, readjusting her towel and looking down at him. He smiled innocently up at her, standing up as well. She handed him some Floo powder, pushing him gently to the fireplace. "Go on then. I'm sure she'll help you. Unless she made herself your first date."

He scoffed. "My secretary is the devil herself."

She raised a brow suspiciously. "Granger?"

He chuckled, glad she had caught on, but halted when she continued. "She's not that bad, Draco."

"W-Wait—" he stuttered as he neared the fireplace. She smirked. "There's nothing you can do, Malfoy. Scorpius deserves a better mother, and I will not visit him until you realize that."

"You can be a good mo—"

"Malfoy Manor!" she called, shoving him into the green flames.

Hermione looked up from her book in surprise. "Malfoy?"

He nodded his acknowledgement before continuing down the hallway. She got up and followed him. "Where have you been all day?"

"I was only gone for two hours, Granger. Relax," he muttered. Hermione scrunched up her nose in disgust. "You've been gone since I've been awake. Maybe even longer. Have you been drinking?"

He nodded, opening the door to his bedroom and collapsing on his bed. Hermione frowned in disgust. "I just came to tell you I'll be gone tomorrow. Maybe a few days after that."

He groaned, turning on his side. "Just go."

Hermione pursed her lips, shutting the door behind her. She never pegged him as the drinking type, especially how he cared so much on how he looked. She looked at a painting of a clock (Seriously, Malfoy?). 9:45pm. She shrugged, climbing up the steps to her room. She packed a few clothes in her charmed bag, as well as a few galleons for the next day before getting ready for bed. With a flick of her wand, a breeze blew by, snuffing out all the candles in her room.

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><p><strong>Thank you to my first ever reviewer, krista04! I really appreciate it. It made my day! Thank you so so so much! I'll be getting to the Forbidden Room someday haha!<strong>


	4. It's Sly

**Disclaimer: Thank you JK Rowling for creating the Harry Potter universe. Big fan, big fan.**

**A/N: Thank you all for reviews, story alerts, etc! It's a real confidence booster!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: It's Sly<strong>

Hermione sipped her lemonade indifferently, staring out the dusted window. After about four hours of window shopping, the group had decided to take a break in a small café wedged in between two clothing shops. The sky was clear again, but the weather remained bitterly cold. Few wizards decided to bear the strong gusts of wind, huddled close together as the shuffled down the sidewalk. She pulled her navy blue coat closer to her body, glancing at the two boys sitting at their own table. James watched in amusement as his little brother ripped apart his jelly filled pastry."You sure it's okay for us to leave the boys alone like that?"  
>Ginny nodded, smiling as James reached out and cleaned Albus' face with a tissue. She focused her gaze back on Hermione. "So...your job...you weren't kidding, were you."<p>

She pulled out the piece of paper Draco had given her. "I'm supposed to find him a girlfriend as my first task."

Her brows raised in surprise. Hermione nodded, leaning closer to the ginger. "I know. It's hard enough to please his son-"

"You have problems with his son?" Ginny interrupted. Hermione frowned and continued. "Yeah. Spoiled little brat. Every time I run into him, he always tells me to leave the house and sometimes calls me names."

"That's odd," Ginny murmured, taking a bite out of her sandwich. She chewed it slowly before swallowing. "I met Scorpius once. He was such a good boy. My thoughts on Malfoy improved from then on. I don't understand why he dislikes you so much."

Hermione couldn't believe what she just heard. Scorpius was a good kid? She still wasn't over their first, official meeting and how rude he was, no matter how many times Draco apologized. Or when he soiled one of her favorite shirts with ketchup. Or when he called her a 'hag'. And she definitely wasn't over the time she offered him a cookie and he called her 'fat'. Hermione gritted her teeth together, clenching her fist around her drink. Scorpius got on her nerves more than Malfoy himself!  
>Ginny patted Hermione's arm. "You alright?"<p>

Hermione snapped out of her trance and nodded quickly. "Sorry. I was just...thinking of work."

Ginny smirked, looking at the list once more. "Well, if Malfoy wants a girl that isn't like the others, just set him up with Luna."

Hermione grinned at the thought of the airy witch having dinner with her boss. She would drive him mad if they spent an hour together. She shook her head and chuckled. "I doubt that would work out."

"Aw, c'mon!" she protested. "Not only would it be fun, but it could work. Luna doesn't hold Draco's past against him, and I think that's pretty important."

"I don't know..." she trailed off, tucking a few curls behind her ear. Ginny smiled impishly. "It's just _one_ night."

"Fine," Hermione held up her hands in defeat, a smile tugging on the corner of her lips. Logically, it did seem to work. Luna was a pureblood, after all. "But wait...doesn't Neville like Luna?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "The lad's been mad for her, even after they broke up a few years back. When he finds out Luna's been with Malfoy, he'll definitely step up his game. It's a win-win situation!"

Hermione smirked. "Using jealousy to our advantage. That's a little Slytherin if you ask me."

Ginny rolled her eyes, placing a hand on her chest. "Helping our friends discover love again, that's Griffi-"

"Hufflepuff," Hermione cut her off, crossing her arms smugly. Ginny stuck her tongue out at her. "Fine. Let's see Luna now."

"Now?" Hermione gulped.

* * *

><p>"Hello, lovelies," Luna called, brushing dirt off of her jeans and standing up. She waved them over to her garden, peeling off her garden gloves. Her long blond hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail, fluttering slightly in the breeze. She grinned at them, her icy blue eyes twinkling.<p>

"What are you doing here, Lun?" Hermione asked, peering past the white picket fence. Luna shrugged. "What do you think I'm doing? I'm searching for Bloom Beetles. I heard them outside my window last night."

"What do boom beetlers do?" piped James. Luna wiped some sweat off her brow, leaving a smudge of dirt on her forehead instead. "They eat anything that is bound to bloom and sucks away its life. Terrible to have around couples in love or pregnant women. I heard once on The Qui-"

"Interesting. Great. Wonderful," Ginny cut her off, glancing at Hermione. "Lun, we were wondering if you were free tonight."

Hermione's jaw dropped. _Tonight? But Malfoy..._

Luna tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Well, I guess the frimpets can wait until another time...What's tonight?"

"We were hoping you'd consider going on a date...with Malfoy."

Luna's eyes widened in surprise. "Malfoy?"

Hermione fidgeted nervously. "You-You don't have to go. We're not forcing you or anything-"

"Sure," Luna regained her composure, looking up at the clear blue sky. "Mmm...I'll finally wear that dress I bought a few days ago..."

Ginny beamed. "Great! Come by the Malfoy Manor at..." she nudged Hermione. "Is seven okay?"

She nodded dumbly, pressing her lips into a firm line."I'll be sure to let the wards down for you," she murmured, her brown eyes still glued to Luna. She actually agreed.

Luna actually agreed. Luna Lovegood, prisoner of Malfoy Manor, agreed.

Ginny excused themselves, leaving Luna to her 'beetle' hunting again. She nudged Hermione once they were out of earshot and whispered, "Don't tell Malfoy Luna's his date tonight, okay?"

Hermione stared at her in disbelief. "You're really getting a kick out of this, aren't you?"

Ginny shrugged nonchalantly. "We might as well. Now go on to the Manor and tell Malfoy to be ready for the best night of his life."

Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. Hermione would never admit it, but she was scared of the 'matchmaker' Ginny. She didn't want to know what fired her up in the first place. Hermione hugged each of them goodbye once they reached the apparition point, promising to visit the next time she could.

* * *

><p>"Granger?" Draco looked up from his paperwork, setting his quill down. She fidgeted in front of him, occasionally glancing up into his steel grey eyes and cracking a nervous smile.<p>

"I thought you'd be gone for a while. Why'd you come back?" he leaned back, inwardly becoming nervous as well. He scowled. Malfoys _don't_ get nervous. He shook off the feeling and continued. "Well? Spit it out."

"I found your date," she smiled weakly. Draco's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He gulped, focusing on his paperwork again. "Um…great. When is it?"

"Tonight," she replied, looking around the study casually. Draco watched her, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. She was anything but casual. He smirked, opening his mouth to insult his date, but decided against it. After a few moments of silence, Hermione looked back at him and frowned. "What happened to you? Last night you were beyond wasted. Why are you working?"

He shrugged, dipping his quill in the ink bottle on his desk. "I used a sobering potion. Common sense, Granger. And here I thought you actually had some."

She clenched her fists, turning on her heel to the door. "Be ready by seven. Your date will arrive by then, Malfoy."

"Wait!" he called after her. She popped her head back in the door, a bored expression on her face. He glared back at her. Consider it a pet peeve, but he hated it when people looked at him like that. He swallowed. "Who is it?"

She grinned impishly at him, her eyes narrowing. "Don't worry. She's not bad at all."

That was enough to make him nervous. Once she was gone, he buried his face in his hands. He didn't have to go on that date. Granger probably just hired a troll to take him to the forest and probably bash his face in. No, he would ditch it. _You've got to find love on your own,_ Astoria's voice echoed in his mind. He automatically flinched when he heard her say the word 'love'. He finally offered some and she turned it down. Sure, she was another man's to begin with, but he _married_ her. Isn't that enough to get those special rights over with? He sighed, rubbing his jaw absent-mindedly. _I'll just go…she could be good…distraction anyway._

"Papa," Scorpius called, his face scrunched up in disgust. Draco's face softened, scooping his son up in his arms and planting a kiss on his forehead. "How's my boy doing?" he asked, setting him down on his knee. Scorpius shook his head. "Why is Mudblood in our house?"

Draco tensed at the word, his loving gaze immediately turning into a menacing glare. He studied Scorpius' face for about a minute and whispered as low as he could, "Where did you learn that word?"

Scorpius became nervous, fiddling with one of his father's suit buttons. Draco growled, squeezing his son's arm lightly. "Scorpius."

"Grandpapa," he whispered. Draco lowered his son to the floor, forcing him to stand. "Scorpius. You will _**never**_ use that word again. That word is a vile and disgusting word and I don't want to hear it ever again. Do you understand me?"

Silence.

He gritted his teeth together and forced himself to take a breath. "Do you _understand_ me, Scorpius?" he nearly hissed. Scorpius began to tremble in front of his father, biting his lip and nodding furiously. Draco exhaled again, sending his son off. "Go…Papa will play with you later."

Scorpius nodded, shuffling out of the room. Draco pulled out a piece of paper. _I need to see you. __**NOW.**_

"Plink!" he yelled. The elf popped into the room and bowed. Draco was fond of this elf; he was able to keep his composure whenever Draco was around screaming and breaking everything. Plink was...brave. He tossed the parchment to the elf and snarled, "Send this to my mother."

Plink bowed and popped out of the room. He pulled out his wand and stalked out of his office. He warned his mother about his father and the consquences if Scorpius ever met him. His father, that sly, conniving little man... He slammed his fist into the wall. He didn't know whatever seed his father planted into Scorpius, but he was pretty sure it had to do with blood. That conversation earlier proved it. Draco was able to successfully keep his father out of his life for three years while keeping his mother. His stress was burdening him. Working with Potter only added to it. He had his family, his ex-wife, his company. _Too much..._he thought to himself. He pushed through the French doors leading to the empty field. He needed to get rid of some of his worries.

* * *

><p>Hermione stood stiffly in Draco's room as he readjusted his tie, smoothing down his platinum blond hair. He watched her reflection in the mirror, narrowing his eyes. She couldn't help watching him, a sense of awe and a tinge of fear filling her being again. She was in her room when she saw him make his way outside. He began thrashing curses and spells everywhere, spells Hermione knew she would have trouble fending herself against. Her wonder turned to fear when she saw him burst a boulder into flames and launch it to a scraggly shrub about ten feet away. Draco kept flinging spells everywhere for about an hour, collapsing on his knees and simply staying in that position as he stared up at the sky. She didn't know how to react other than feeling guilty for watching him in such a weak state. She began to wonder what would trigger such an action.<p>

"Granger!" Draco barked. Hermione snapped to attention, looking straight back at him. He crossed his arms. He was wearing an all black business suit, bringing out his silvery blond hair more than ever. She tried to ignoring the thought nagging in the corner of her mind. She tried to ignore how he looked like his previous self. How he looked like the Death Eater that he was. She pushed the thought away, examining his face instead. "She better be pretty."

Hermione relaxed a bit and smirked. "That was never on the list."

His lip twitched in annoyance, brushing past her and out to the foyer. She trailed behind him, her lips in a tight frown. He wouldn't hurt Luna, right? She caught up to him and gently grabbed his forearm. He whirled around. "What?" he snarled. She glared back at him. "You won't hurt her, will you?"

He lowered his face to hers, sending a shudder going down her spine. "Understand this, Granger, no matter who you think I am, I am not what you expect me to be. Don't waste your breath on petty questions."

He stood up to his full height and turned on his heel. Hermione stood there, arms limp by her sides. Draco paused and breathed out an exasperated sigh. "My mother taught me enough sense to know to never hurt women."

Her shoulders relaxed a bit in relief, and she slowly began following him again. An elf popped up in front of them. "Master! A strange lady is in the den!"

"Pips, that lady is a friend of ours," Hermione interrupted. The elf nodded, eyes wide in realization. Draco thanked the elf and turned the corner leading to the den. Hermione was busy conversing with the elf, bumping straight into Draco's back. She rubbed her nose, flinching in pain. "Malfoy. Keep moving."

"Hermione? What a pleasant surprise. Are you going on a date with Draco too?" Luna's soft voice greeted. She was sitting neatly on a rather large, rustic brown sofa. Her blond hair was pulled up neatly into a half-ponytail, blue eyes twinkling innocently at them. If she was surprised seeing Hermione at the Manor, she hid it well. Draco coughed, extending his hand to her. "Good evening, Miss Lovegood."

"It's been a while, Draco," she replied, standing up and smoothing out her navy blue gown. She shook his hand readily, her gaze flitting between the other two. Hermione had to admit that Luna's gown was rather...formal. It reached well past her feet, clinging to her slim figure and diving down from the back. It was very... unlike Luna. She linked arms with Draco and brushed past Hermione. Draco gaze flickered between the two women uneasily. "Where would you like to go?"

"Paris would be nice," Luna replied, a faint smile playing on her delicate features. Draco gaped at her in disbelief and shot a look at Hermione. She shrugged, just as surprised as he was. Luna turned to the brunette and smiled. "Don't wait up, Hermione."

They disappeared out the door, and with a crack, they disappeared.


	5. It's Subtle

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. Boohoo.**

**A/N: Thank you so so so so much for those that made me giggle with glee by adding this story to your story alerts! It makes me feel so light and bubbly and everything's just right with the world. I get all these conflicting emotions inside me whenever I see it though. It's like, "should I post this chapter up for them? I mean, it's already finished…" and then the other side of me is like, "No! You can't do that! They'll realize that you don't have a life!" So yeah…**

**And last thing, I'm hoping to find a beta for this because I know this isn't perfect. But alas, I must keep searching because the one that I thought would make a nice beta didn't reply to my request. I'll still hope. Anyway, I apologize for such a **_**long**_** author's note, but I just love babbling on and on. And….**_**action!**_

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: It's Subtle<strong>

Hermione and Scorpius sat in the den next to a roaring fire, the scent of herbal tea and hot chocolate filling the air. It was one of those nights again, when Scorpius would refuse to sleep until he was sure his father was home safe and sound. She decided to stay up with the little boy, curious as to Draco's whereabouts as well. Secretly, she simply enjoyed watching the two interact. She enjoyed watching Draco change in an instant because of his son and vice versa. Her heart warmed seeing them chatter on and on about nothing in particular; something she wished she could someday experience on her own. She had been working with Scorpius about Muggles and their own world for a month while setting Draco up with other dates after Luna. She felt rather accomplished; Scorpius learned what a Muggle, a dentist, a surgeon (basic, non-gory version), a sewing machine, and a rabbit was. She never really intended to teach him what the latter was, but after discovering he barely knew anything about what lay in his backyard other than the albino peacocks and occasional sparrow she had no choice but to teach him the basics as well.

Hermione held up a picture for Scorpius to see. "This is a car."

Scorpius pointedly ignored her, tossing his bear into the air with a flurry of sound effects. Hermione rolled her eyes, tapping the picture with her wand. A miniature car rolled out of the picture and onto the floor complete with engine sounds and a realistic looking driver. The young boy continued to play with his bear, occasionally stealing glances at the sleek, black Jaguar racing around and following her wand. She smirked, tapping on the car and painting it silver. Hermione knew Scorpius. He was a sucker for anything silver.

"Give it to me, Mermy," Scorpius demanded, holding out his chubby hands. She smiled wryly at him, holding it above his head. "Why should I give it to a spoiled brat like you?"

"Mermy!" he whined. He pulled up his jeans and jumped up. She jumped at the same time, waving the car tauntingly at him. "C'mon, Scorp. What is it?"

"It's mine!" he huffed, pouncing on her leg. She pried him off with one hand, laughing as he growled at her and clung to her arm. "C'mon, I know you want it."

"Mine!" he declared, jumping off her and crossing his arms resolutely. She sat down again and held it behind her back. She shrunk it down and pushed it in her back pocket, holding out both hands for him to inspect. Scorpius stared at her in disbelief, grabbing her hands and searching between each of the fingers, much to her amusement. He looked up at her innocently, "Mermy, where's my car?"

Hermione grinned, scooping up the boy in her arms and swinging him around. "Scorp! You _finally_ got it! It's a car! After four days!"

She placed him on her hip and dug one hand into her pocket, pulling it out for him to see. The Jaguar returned to its original size in her extended palm, still retaining its silvery coat. Scorpius grinned, clutching it close to his chest. "It's grey! Like Papa's eyes!"

He pointed to his own and smiled cheekily at her. "Like my eyes!"

Hermione laughed, burying her face in his neck and tickling him with her nose, inhaling his scent. He smelled just like his father. He giggled, prying free from her grip and showing his newest toy to his bear. She let him go, her face frozen with confusion. _Did Scorpius and I just have a moment?_ She shook it off, taking the empty photograph and sending it to the trash with a flick of her wand. _I just miss Albus...that's all..._ The two had kept each other company whenever Draco wasn't around, usually breaking out into pointless bickering that brought them nowhere. Crumpy appeared with a box in his slim fingers. "Master Hermione?"

Hermione looked up from the documents she was working on in Draco's stead. "Yes, Crumpy?"

"This was delivered for Master Hermione," he smiled eagerly, bobbing his head up and down. "Master Hermione must have many friends for her to receive a gift! Unless...is it Master Hermione's day of birth! Crumpy apologizes! Crumpy will go make a cake for Master Herm-"

Hermione waved her hands and shook her head. "No no, it's not my birthday. I bought this myself. Thank you, Crumpy."

The elf visibly relaxed and bowed politely. "Would Master Hermione like a drink? Some food?"

She shook her head once more. "No thanks, Crumpy."

The elf bowed once more and disappeared from the living room. Hermione stared at the brown parcel in her hands, a smile playing on her lips as she unwrapped it. The flames flickered green, the mastor of the Manor stepping out of the flames, muttering and dusting off his leather jacket from soot and ashes. Scorpius shot up and raced to his father. "Papa!"

Draco chuckled, scooping up his son in his arms. "How's my little man?"

He held out his newest toy triumphantly. "Car!"

Draco smiled, kissing his forehead and setting him back down on the floor. He looked at her and smirked. 'You _finally_taught him something."

Hermione rolled her eyes and focused back on her package, draping her legs over the arms of the sofa. "How was your date?"

He shrugged, plopping down on the chair across from her and ran a hand through his hair. "Disaster."

"Oh?" she piped up, examining the box in the dim light. She snapped her fingers, increasing the chandelier's brightness. Draco nodded, examining the car Scorpius gave him. "Yeah. She has a particular thing against Slytherins. Oh well. She was too flashy for my taste."

"The Slytherin Prince doesn't like racy?" she asked, feigning interest. Draco didn't seem to notice, setting the car down on the floor and letting it roam around. "Yeah. No surprise for later."

She fake-gagged. "You're disgusting."

He shrugged, perking up when noticed what she was holding in her hands. "What do you have there?"

"This?" she held up the box. He sighed. "Yes, dipwit."

"_Dipwit?_" Hermione repeated, utterly surprised and repulsed that Draco knew the term. He tilted his head to the side. "Yeah. Isn't it another word for 'buddy'?"

She shook her head. "N-No. Anyway...it's a Muggle device called a cellphone. I've been meaning to get one for my job, but now that I work for you, I don't know what to do with it."

She pulled out a slim black cellphone and powered it on. It made a loud 'swoosh', startling both Malfoys. She muttered an apology and continued toying with the device. After recovering from his initail shock, the Slytherin extended his hand. "Let me see it."

"Why? It's mine," she retorted, sliding it open and randomly pressing buttons. He smirked. "Accio cellphone."

It flew out of her hand and straight into his. He grinned triumphantly as she sat back and crossed her arms, huffing crisply. "Blaise has been bugging me to get one of these...what's so special about them?"

"Nothing," she retorted. "Accio cellphone."

She caught it, shooting him a glare and daring him to get it back. He decided against it, pulling his son into his lap. "You know, I'm starting to doubt your skills as a matchmaker."

"Well, you could consider being...you know..._civil,"_she replied, setting the correct time and date on the contraption in her hands. Draco smirked. "Well, that wouldn't be very _Malfoy_ would it."

She nodded. "True. Being an insufferable git is what makes you a Malfoy."

"Granger..." he warned, smoothing down his son's hair. She focused on her phone and muttered, "Right. Sorry."

After a few minutes of silence, she glanced at him, a smile tugging on the corner of her lips. Draco sat in the chair, legs pulled up, creating a small cradle to hold his son. One arm acted as a pillow, his free hand tenderly running a hand across the toddler's hair. His eyes looked tenderly at his son, bending down and kissing his nose. "Granger, you better find him a good mum."

"Bu-But, Malfoy," she stammered. She had actually hoped she was forgotten and she could watch this moment in peace. He gazed up at her slowly.

"I-I'm running out of purebloods for you to date," she finished, biting her lip. Which was true. Hermione was only able to track down purebloods using the Ministry's files (thanks to Harry). And then finding out about them, making sure they weren't stupid or rude meant precious time slipping through her fingers following them around when the files didn't give her enough information. She honestly wasn't even sure why she was working so hard when he could have done the searching himself. Oh, right. Because Hermione wanted to do a good job at whatever she did.

Draco stood up, careful not to awaken the boy in his arms. "I never said she had to be."

He left swiftly without another word, leaving Hermione with her own thoughts. She scowled, mentally punishing herself for assuming something about him and being wrong. Again. _She doesn't have to be a pureblood…what exactly happened to you, Malfoy?_

He was different than what he was like in Hogwarts. He never scowled all the time, his words weren't always getting under her skin, and his insults when they broke into fights were actually intelligent. He never used the term 'Mudblood' on her anymore, and she never questioned him lest he revert back to the old Draco Malfoy she clearly despised. But the one that had just graced her presence…she didn't hate him. No, not at all. She enjoyed being in the new Draco Malfoy's presence. He had depth. He seemed real. She was amused by him as well, like a new puzzle for her to solve. She figured he would want what she thought most men would: a beautiful, sexy woman with the charms that could seduce anyone within a matter of minutes. No, she was wrong. After the first couple dates she set up, all which resulted in failure, Draco had to point out that he wanted a woman with intelligence and wit over charms and fake beauty. When he said he wanted a woman that wasn't like the others, he meant one that was interesting. Sure, looks mattered to him, but it was overshadowed by how much he stressed that he wanted someone who could keep him entertained throughout their date. "Beauty is wasted if there's no brains behind it, Granger," he drawled once when they were discussing after he complained about the airhead he was supposed to meet at a restaurant downtown. Hermione shook her head. _Whatever happened…I like this new Malfoy better._

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><p><em>Dear Hermione,<em>

_We missed you at the Burrow. Bill really likes the present you gave him. He wears it sometimes around the house. He says the scarf smells like you and that it's 'Typical Hermione.' I think it was very sweet of you to remember his birthday. Ugh...he told me to tell you that he says hello and that he misses you more than me. Which isn't true at all. Anyway, I hope you get this as a clue that we all want you to come over and play with the kids...and George of course. C'mon, don't be scared. You know Ron doesn't hate you. He misses you too, by the way. He told me that he missed his best friends and having those friendship moments and what not. I'm terribly sorry I didn't meet up with you when you asked. My coach kept us all in longer than she should have that day. _

_Love, Ginny_

_P.S. We would love for you to come over to the Burrow for Christmas._

Hermione smiled, folding the letter neatly and placing it in one of her desk drawers. She could reply to that later. She looked out her window, her heart beginning to race. Snow! After bundling up in a thick coat and a scarf, she slipped on her sneakers and nearly ran down the hallway outside. "Make sure you don't get too much snow on your face, dear!" Lady Faye called. "It's bad for your skin!"

She was too excited to heed the painting's words as she pulled out her wand and waterproofed her shoes. Everything was coated in white, from the trees surrounding the estate to the never-dying flowers lining the house. Everything was just so perfectly still. Draco and Scorpius were probably still sleeping, so she had nothing to worry about. She breathed in the clean, cold air, bending down to feel the snow sting against her bare hands. Her curls shielded her face from the rest of the world like a curtain, hiding her giddy smile as she squeezed the snow between her hands. She stood up, looking around for a target. She settled on a spruce a few yards down, reeling her arm back and tossing the snowball at the base of the trunk. She frowned when it missed, startling a nearby hare.

"Mermy, what you doing?"

Hermione shot up, wiping her hands on her jeans hurriedly. She looked at the young boy yawning sleepily at the entrance. "I-I was just…"

She froze, her lips pursing into a thick line when his father leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Nothing," she finished, staring down and kicking the snow. She heard snow crunching as he strode toward her, but she didn't dare looking up. Memories from school popped into her mind; she figured she would have been over it by now, but she wasn't. Not when he was involved. He brushed past her without a word. The silence was killing her now, ringing in her ears. "Look, Malfoy," she turned around to face him. "If you're here to make fun of—"

She stumbled back, wiping snow off her now-stinging face. Draco stood a few feet away from her, a proud smirk settled on his lips. Her astonishment turned to determination, scooping up snow and tossing it at him. He dodged it easily, bending down to make another one. Hermione grabbed another clump of snow, sprinting to his side and sliding the snow down his back. He jumped up, hissing a curse word and glaring at her. "Granger! This is one of my best suits!"

She shrugged, scrambling merrily away when he ran after her. "It wasn't that nice anyway, Malfoy," she jeered, a mischievous smile on her lips. He lunged at her, landing headfirst into a pile of snow. She laughed, bending over and gripping her stomach. He shot up, watching her with slitted eyes. His suit was damp and coated with melting snow, seeping through his suit and straight to his skin."I'm gonna get you one of these days," he hissed, lacking the usual tone of malice and sarcasm. She nodded, clearly not believing him. She looked at him, bursting into a new fit of laughter. Her laugh suddenly died, staring directly at him. He furrowed his brows in confusion, wiping his face with his forearm. "What?"

Hermione pointed to his face. "Y-You're smiling."

It wasn't those smug grins she had grown accustomed to, but a genuine smile. Her eyes widened, and she forced herself to look away. "Sorry."

"Tell anyone that I smiled, and I'll hex you to oblivion."

She glanced up at him nervously, only to look away again. He was still smiling that…smile. Dare she say that he actually looked attractive? Hermione stood up quickly, brushing herself off. Draco reached over and tousled her hair. "Thanks, Granger."

"For what?" she muttered, staring at the ground and sauntering inside. He followed after her, peeling off his soaked jacket and tossing it over an armchair. "I don't think I've felt like that in a while."

"Oh really?" she spat sarcastically. He ignored her brutal tone and continued, "Yeah. You know…"

She froze. "I know…?"

He nervously rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. "Never mind. Forget about it."

Draco continued walking, using his wand to help him warm up. Hermione followed him briskly. "Malfoy."

"Let's get some breakfast—"

"Malfoy!"

He whirled around with an innocent look on his face. "Yes, Granger?"

"What do you mean?" she pressed, edging closer toward him. He purposely avoided looking into her eyes and muttered something. She tilted her head and squinted her eyes. "What?"

Hermione didn't really know why she was asking, afraid of hearing the answer herself. What if he _fancied _ to her? She couldn't say she felt the same; sure she thought he was attractive, and actually nice when you ignored all the snide comments and rude nicknames, but she couldn't say she felt feelings for him. Yet. _Yes,_ she thought to herself,_ 'yet' is a safe word. No harm done there. I could fancy him, but I don't. Yet. _She soon realized she was afraid of finding out she was wrong. That he _wasn't_ attracted to her. None. None at all. She swept away those insecurities, looking straight into those mercury grey eyes.

"—Free," Draco huffed, waving a hand in her face." Are you even _listening_, Granger?"

Hermione nodded dumbly. "O-Oh."

Satisfied, he turned on his heel and coughed. "Breathe a word about what I just told you, and I'll sow your mouth shut the Muggle way."

She nodded, urging him to continue walking to breakfast. Her heart sank as she stared at the back of his head. She hadn't even heard what she wanted to hear.

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><p><strong>Please review. It makes the 'eager little writer' inside of me jump for joy.<strong>


	6. It's Sweet

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Ginny does. Da dun tch. **

**A/N: Thank you all for the reviews. Please review some more. I like it. A lot. Constructive criticism is nice too. Aspiring writer here! :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 6: It's Sweet<strong>

Draco sat stiffly on an overly stuffed ivory sofa, his hands clenching his knees as he silently watched his mother seated across from him. She was just as reserved as he was, neither of them speaking until one of the elves appeared with a tray in its hands. His gaze never left hers, both of them waiting for the other to break under the tension. They hadn't spoken at all after the incident concerning Scorpius and Lucius, and deep down, he knew it was hurting his mother as much as it hurt him. The elf bowed quickly and slowly crept out of the room, eyes wide in anxiety and fear. Narcissa lifted her chin slightly and extended her hand to the heated silver tea pot, ice cold blue eyes watching him. He exhaled, leaning forward and waving her hand off. "No, Mum. Allow me," he whispered, his voice hoarse after all the waiting. Narcissa nodded, folding her hands neatly on her lap. He poured the liquid into both cups, dipping the tea bags in as well. Narcissa lifted a finger, lips parting to speak, but Draco cut her off. "A dash of honey, I know. You think after fifteen years you'd trust your only son to remember."

She simply smiled softly and nodded. "My son, brilliant and handsome as always. How's the weather?"

There it was. Her way of apologizing. He stirred her cup, and once satisfied the honey had blended in well with the tea, handed it to her. "The weather is just fine, Mum. Just fine," he murmured coolly, watching his mother's reaction as he sampled his own drink. Her face relaxed, an affectionate smile exposing itself from the otherwise cool and collected façade of Narcissa Malfoy. He dully recalled the day he had first tried to apologize to his mother. When he disappeared for a few hours and scared his mother half-to-death, wracking her nerves for two days straight. He didn't know how to say those two magical words that made amends, and after avoiding his mother for as long as his poor little heart could endure, he caught her alone while she played the piano. After thinking for hours about how he would reconcile with his mother, he formulated the best plan his nine-year-old mind could muster. Act as if it never happened. He draped his arm lazily across the piano and asked as suavely as he could, "Hey, Mum. How's the weather?"

His sorry attempt at apologizing made his mother giggle, tugging the young Draco closer to her and enveloping him in a hug. "It's sunny now that you're here."

"Yuck, Mum," he scrunched up his nose, pretending to be disgusted. Ever since that day, that was what they did whenever the other messed up. They acted as if it never happened and used weather to tell how they felt.

"Draco," his mother softly called, her hands once again folded on her lap. Draco set down his cup and coughed. "Yes?"

She smiled again. "It's a week before Christmas. Is there anything you want?"

He knew it would be pointless to say he didn't want anything at all, and his mother would go out of her way to get him an extravagant gift that he wouldn't enjoy. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "A new coat would be nice."

Narcissa beamed, standing up and leaving her seat to sit next to him. "I think that would be nice as well, darling. Where are you going to spend Christmas?"

He shrugged. "Home, I guess."

"How would you feel like traveling elsewhere for Christmas? I feel like you, me, and Scorpius ought to spend some time together," she sighed dreamily, staring out the window. Draco glanced at her, inwardly smirking. As long as Lucius wasn't involved, he'd be fine.

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><p>Hermione shifted the basket weighing down on her left arm, scrutinizing a necklace meshed among many others on a dusted table. With a bit of dedication, she untangled the necklace and held it in her palm. It was simple with a petite stone strikingly similar to sapphire shimmering in the light. She beamed. "Miss?"<p>

An old, frail-looking woman hobbled over and smiled, displaying many missing teeth. "Ah, I see you've found one of the best jewelry in all of Britain, yes yes. Thirty pounds for a pretty young miss like you."

Hermione frowned, gently placing it back on the table. She didn't have anymore money to spend. She looked around idly for Draco, occasionally shooting a quick glance at the necklace she had abandoned. He appeared with several bags in both hands, his eyes showing how exhausted and annoyed he was. She raised a quizzical brow at him. "Someone's being generous."

He smirked, rolling his eyes. "More like forced. What are you looking at?"

"Nothing," she replied quickly, tearing her gaze away from the necklace she was eyeing. Draco nodded unbelievingly, setting a few bags down to study the necklace. He shook his head and picked up his bags. Readjusting his grip, he gently guided her through the crowd to an empty alley. "Ready?"

She nodded, taking one last look at the flea market. Later, she promised herself. _I'll get the necklace later._

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><p>Hermione sat in the den, cautiously throwing one long glance in Draco's direction. It was near dusk now, the trio completely worn from a day that seemed too long. Draco sat complacently in his favorite chair, his mouth barely moving as he read <span>The Daily Prophet<span>. This was the first time she had seen him out of his suit, donning a baggy pair of pajama pants and a loose white tee. His platinum blond hair fell over his eyes, his face leaning on his left palm. She tucked her legs closer to her, shifting her gaze to the young boy playing with a miniature car and his bear. His lips puckered as he raced the car back and forth around his bear, occasionally pausing to prop up his motionless bear once again and then continuing his race. It was one of those moments where everything felt normal. If normal was anything Hermione could relate to once again.

"Hey, Granger."

She looked up, blinking a few times as her eyesight readjusted from reading. "Yeah?"

"Where're you spending your holiday?" he flipped a page casually.

She shrugged, resuming her reading. "I'll spend a few days before Christmas at The Burrow, and then Christmas and a few days after that at home with my parents."

He nodded, lips pursed. "You can come back on the second of January."

"That's an awful long vacation," she drawled, masking her disappointment. He rolled his eyes. "As much as I'd love to have the likes of you running rampant in my home, Scorpius and I are going to Australia for a bit."

"Why?" she blurted. He didn't bother looking up at her, flipping another page. "Vacation with my mum. She doesn't want to spend her Christmas in the snow."

"When are you leaving?" she murmured, trying in vain to continue reading.

"Tomorrow," he replied. "Feel free to leave whenever."

"Oh no, I'll leave tomorrow too," she replied hastily, placing a bookmark in her book and standing. Draco lifted his eyes from the newspaper, a confused, still stoic look on his face. She smiled dryly. "I-I'll go pack."

She ambled out of the room, heaving in a sigh until she was out of earshot. She scurried to her bedroom, making sure to lock the door behind her. Sighing, she pulled out a watch she bought for Draco a few days before, holding it up to the glowing sunset. It had cost her quite a sum, but Hermione was satisfied with the platinum silver accessory. She set it down, gingerly pulling out a box of various mini cakes she had made for Scorpius. He had a weakness for chocolate, and ignoring whatever Draco said about his son not having many treats, she splurged on ingredients and made them when the two went out to who knows where. The desserts were charmed to smell and taste as though they were fresh from the oven, so Hermione had no reason to worry about it. The gifts would have to be given tomorrow. She shrugged, shaking off the glum feeling she had. Why she felt that way was beyond her.

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><p>"Mermy, come with me and Papa to Austr-" he struggled with the word, eyebrows knit together. Draco chuckled, wrapping a scarf around his neck. "Australia."<p>

The trio was standing in the foyer as they awaited for Narcissa Malfoy's arrival. Hermione insisted she see them off 'in the name of Christmas spirit', inwardly stalling to spend more time with them. Draco agreed, giving last minute instructions to a few elves and dismissing them with a kind word. He looked over his luggage once more before looking directly into Hermione's eyes. He extended his hand, cracking a tiny half-grin. "Merry Christmas, Granger-Er...Her-Hermi-"

She smiled, taking his hand and shaking it amiably. "One step at a time, Malfoy."

He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah."

She chuckled, stopping abruptly with a small 'oh!'. Scorpius looked up curiously at her. "Mermy?"

Hermione beamed, bending down and handing Scorpius a box wrapped up in bright green and red paper. He smiled nervously, reaching down into his pocket and pulling out a ring covered in various rhinestones. "For Mermy."

Hermione smiled, planting a quick kiss on his cheek and slipping the ring onto her index finger. "It's beautiful."

Scorpius grinned, Hermione's gift securely pressed against his body. Luckily, the charm made sure the cakes remained undamaged. She dusted off her jeans from imaginary dust and stood up. Draco nudged his son. "Scorpius. What do you say?"

"Thank you, Mermy," he said shyly. She chuckled, digging through her bag once more and pulling out a small box wrapped in silver and red and held it out to him. "Merry Christmas, Malfoy."

Draco took it hesitantly, shifting his weight from side to side. "Thanks, Granger. Oh...umm...Here."

"A paycheck? Wow. But I got mine a few days ago."

"It's not your paycheck," he explained. Her lips curled upwards into a shy smile. A present then? "Thanks, Malfoy."

"No need to thank me," he replied blandly, staring out the window for his mother's arrival. A sleigh, drawn by a single sleek black horse, halted to a stop by the front gates. Draco, seeing it from the bay window, nodded at no one in particular and levitated the two trunks outside. He stuffed the present in his pocket and pulled Scorpius along. The young boy stumbled after, turning his head and waving goodbye. The two paused at the door, Draco tipping his imaginary hat and continuing his trek to the sleigh. She smiled and waved until the front door slammed shut, leaving her all alone. Hermione sighed, making her way to the fireplace in the den. "The Burrow," she announced and disappeared into the flickering green flames.

* * *

><p>"So...you think you fancy Malfoy?" Ginny repeated, slowly stirring the stew she was making. Hermione hesitantly nodded, throwing in a dash of pepper into the pot. "I think...but I'm not entirely sure, you know?"<p>

"About what?" Harry asked, planting a chaste kiss on Ginny's lips. Hermione looked away and began chopping at the carrots. Ginny hummed, shrugging. "Nothing, love. Just girl talk."

Harry nodded, and after taking a slice of carrot from Hermione, sauntered out of the kitchen once more. Hermione looked around again and edged closer to Ginny. "He gave me an envelope. Not a paycheck either, so I wonder what it is."

"A love letter," Ginny grinned. She laughed, pulling it out to show her. "Look."

Ginny's face paled, her blue eyes staring at the envelope in Hermione's hand. She frowned, lowering the letter. "G-Gin?"

"Harry," she called, voice panicked, wiping her hands and staring again at what Hermione was holding. Harry reappeared, his green eyes looking around the kitchen for whatever would have scared his wife. Ginny pointed to what was in the brunette witch's hand and quickly slipped out of the room. Harry frowned, casting a spell on the soup for Ginny and gestured for Hermione to follow him. They climbed up the steps to Ginny's old room, Harry sealing the door with a locking and a silencing charm. He gently pried the letter from her grip, plopping down on the bed. She sat rigidly in the seat across from him, hands twisting the edges of her shirt nervously. "Harry. What's going on?"

He pursed his lips and inhaled deeply. "Whenever Malfoy has something serious to tell me, he seals it with black wax. Ginny noticed this because every time someone got murdered that got his attention, he would owl me with it. She-She recognized it. Anyway...on to the letter."

He slid his thumb under the wax and opened the letter, several photographs and newspaper clippings falling to the floor. Harry picked it up and set it down on the nightstand next to him, glancing at Hermione. "I'll read it aloud for the both of us."

_Potter, _

_ I know I haven't given you any news these past few months, but I just wanted to make sure this information was correct. As you are now aware, eight Muggles have been murdered. Last month, I went to France and discovered another had been murdered in the newspaper. He had no signs of physical struggle or even poison just like the rest. I slipped into the room where they kept his body and I recognized him. Peter Whitman. Remember? One of your colleagues has that name. Jenna Whitman. She filed a disappearance case for her husband, and you showed me a picture of the two. He's buried later in a cemetary in France and was never claimed by his family-because he was missing. Anyway, I took the opportunity to study the body. He was obviously AK'ed, but something stood out. Two, actually. He had nine slits on his right forearm. Like tally marks. On the nape of his neck was another cut that looked like a triangular flag. Maybe. We have a solid lead now, Potter, we need to take action. Question Whitman. Find out more about Peter. If he had any ties, any secrets. Anything._

_I know you want to keep this a secret from the public, but this case is more than the three of us can handle. I know you have many willingly standing by your side, and I'm asking you to choose the best wizards you can find. I have a feeling we'll be meeting our murderer soon._

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><p><strong>Dun dun dun! Please review! Anons welcome...now. <strong>


	7. It's Sour

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling's.**

**A/N: Reviews! Delicious! Agh I never imagine I'd get this many...over 20! Whoo!  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 7: It's Sour<strong>

Draco sat on a sloping hill, hands clenched around the surrounding heather, watching the sun slowly rising above the horizon. The air was surreal and still save for the occasional chirp and the faint sound of clanging metal in the cottage behind him. His mother changed her mind on Australia, taking them to an unknown location; cozy, but unknown. It was a small, humble home with coffee colored shingles and pale yellow walls. The sun never failed to shine in the lush valley, and more than on one occasion the trio found deer nibbling just under the latticed windows. There were only two bedrooms and a single bath, much to Draco's surprise, yet Narcissa was perfectly fine (and aware) of it.  
>He ruffled his tousled bed hair, leaning back on his arms and staring at the rosy sky. The clatter grew louder, not enough to disturb the silence, but loud enough to remind him of what today was. Christmas. The elf inside was making their breakfast. He was sure it would be grand and enough to feed ten people. <em>Or a Weasley<em>, he thought, scoffing. His thoughts shifted over to Harry and his family, a faint smirk playing on the corner of his lips. He was sure they'd enjoy his presents; he made sure to get the best for his friend. He thought of what his other friends thought of his gifts: Blaise, Pansy, Astoria and Daphne, Theodore, Goyle... He even paid tribute to Crabbe by giving some gifts to whatever family he had that wasn't in Azkaban. His thoughts finally drifted to his secretary, Hermione. A pang of guilt shot through his chest, but he brushed it off easily just like he did his pants as he stood up.

Draco made his way inside, pulling off his shoes and collapsing in an armchair in the living room. Scorpius awoke, peering his head in the doorway and breaking into a huge smile. "Merry Christmas!" he exclaimed, arms spread open to give his father a hug. Draco smiled, wrapping him in his arms and replied, "Merry Christmas, Scorpius."

Narcissa presently appeared, donning a bright red chiffon top and a black pencil skirt. She beamed, scooping up her grandson and swaying him around in the living room. Scorpius' melodious laughter filled the room, making even the other hardhearted Malfoys laugh.  
>"Mrs. Malfoy, your breakfast is ready," a smooth, shy voice interrupted. Narcissa smiled warmly. "Thank you, Yvonne."<p>

Draco looked up, a frown on his face. Yvonne had her head held high, hands folded in front of her. Dark chocolate hair framed deep blue eyes and porcelain skin, lips pressed in a loose smile. She was definitely pretty, he would give her that. She glanced at him, offering a quick smile and strolling back into the kitchen. Draco looked at his mother. "Who-Why-Mum?"

She shrugged, making her way to the set table. "I hired her to make our meals, but she made them in advance before we arrived so we wouldn't be intruded on. I insisted she make our Christmas meals fresh. Poor girl doesn't have a family to go home to, you see. I was hoping we could-"

"Invite her to spend it with us," he finished, sitting in the seat across from her. She nodded shyly. "I...finally have the ability to be kind, Draco. Please don't take it away from me. It feels nice doing good deeds."

He nodded, knowing exactly how it felt. Narcissa called her out and invited her to stay, piling her plate with all sorts of delicacies. Yvonne spoke with a soft voice, but whatever rolled off her tongue was amusing, much to Draco's surprise. Maybe inviting her wasn't so bad.

* * *

><p>Draco lay on his bed with Scorpius curled by his side. It was only four in the afternoon, but Narcissa insisted Scorpius still have a nap. Reluctantly, the two climbed into bed. His thoughts drifted from place to place, resting again on Hermione. His guilt increased when he felt the heavy weight of the watch on his wrist, but he shook it off once more. He Accio'd Scorpius' present over and picked up one of the chocolatey treats. Making sure his son was asleep, he hesitantly took a bite. Platinum eyebrows rose in surprise, continuing to take tentative bites until it was all gone. He rested his head back on the headboard. It was good. It was really good. His thoughts drifted back to the time he had opened up to her after their snow fight.<p>

_"I want to thank you for being kind to me despite what I did to you in the past. You're one of the few people who do, even after all this time. I guess...when I had that snow fight with you, I felt free from the burdens of guilt I have to carry for the rest of my life. You made me feel like a normal human being, Granger. It feels nice, doesn't it. Being free," he murmured. She blinked twice at the last word and stared at him. She didn't say anything at all afterwards, and to cover up his embarrassment, he urged her to speak as well. "Are you even listening, Granger?"  
>"O-Oh," was all she could say. But it was enough for him. At least she heard him. Which means she understood him. Which means... He shook his head, turning on his heel and continuing to breakfast.<br>_  
>He popped the remnants of the cake he absently ate into his mouth, reaching for another one. Hermione was different; he knew that the minute he laid eyes on her. But she outdid the expectations he placed on her by far, making him think twice before doubting a woman. He tenderly stroked Scorpius' hand, glad that his son would grow up to be as open-minded and friendly to <em>all <em>wizards because of Hermione's influence on him. A faint smile grew on his face as he set the box down on the nightstand. _She's a good friend, _he thought to himself.

* * *

><p>Hermione stood in front of the mirror, staring at her pallid reflection. Draco just <em>had<em> to tell them near Christmas time. He just _had_ to ruin their Christmas spirit. He just..._had_ to be such a Malfoy! _Or possibly like the Grinch_, she sneered, _but then again, being a Malfoy is much worse._  
>She touched up on her makeup and fixed her hair before joining her parents downstairs in the living room. Her mother smiled, brushing back one of Hermione's auburn curls fondly. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."<p>

She leaned into her mother's soft palm, inhaling the scent of freshly baked chocolate cookies. They knew nothing about what she was involved with. Her father placed a large hand on the small of their backs, leading them to the door. "We don't want to be late to the show."  
>Hermione nodded, pushing all thoughts of Draco Malfoy to the back of her mind. She didn't need to think about any of that right now.<p>

* * *

><p>Hermione smiled, hugging her parents for one last embrace. For Christmas, she bought them tickets to Sydney, Australia to spend the New Year's. They didn't insist she tag along once she promised to visit the next time she could. Once they disappeared from sight, she slipped into an empty alley and apparated away.<p>

* * *

><p>"Welcome back, dearie," Molly said, ushering Hermione to the backyard. Lanterns floated idly in place, filling the backyard with a warm, dreamy glow. Harry swiftly approached her, pulling her immediately to the dance floor in the middle of the lawn. One hand rested on her waist, the other intertwined with hers as he cheerfully pulled her along. She stumbled after him, constantly stepping on his toes. She growled. "Harry Potter! You slow down this instant!" she hissed. He threw back his head and laughed. She eyed him suspiciously. "Are you drunk?"<br>He shook his head, biting his lip and bouncing her along when the beat of the music picked up. She bristled slightly, trying to keep up with his pace. "Are you alright, Harry?"

He beamed down at her. "Everything's alright with the world, Hermione. Well, except for the Muggle Murderer and whatever, but there's something good about it too! But you know what's got me in a good mood, Hermione?"

He slowed down his pace, staring dreamily at his redheaded wife seated on a bench with Fleur. "Ginny's pregnant, Hermione. She's pregnant."

Hermione grinned, feeling her insides bubble up with warmth. "Harry! I'm-"

He smiled endearingly at her. "And...I think it's time the Golden Trio reunited. One of the members came to his senses, now it's your turn."

Her face drained with color, shaking her head furiously. Memories of violent fights with a certain Weasley popped into her mind, images that made her want to curl into a ball and cry, forget that she was a pathetic human being desperately in love with another quite like herself. Images of Hermione crumpled in her bed, silently begging for the old Ronald Weasley she loved back in their budding teenage years to come back and send away the cruel, emotionless man asleep next to her. The one who would glance at her when he thought she wasn't looking. The one who knew her enough to have complete conversations with with just eye contact. The one she hadn't fallen out of love with over two years ago. "No no no no-"

Harry, unaware of what ran through her mind, twirled her away magnificently across then dancefloor. A pair of strong sturdy arms encased in a rust-colored coat caught her, ending her crazy little adventure. "Bloody hell, Hermione. You look great tonight."

She tensed up, stepping back in sheer horror. "R-Ron..."

He sighed, arms dropping to his sides. "Okay...maybe not the best conversation starter to have with your ex, but I really do think you look beautiful."

She shook her head, blinking several times as she stumbled back. He followed her with his own lumbered steps, blue eyes swirling with concern and curiousity. "Hermione...I just want to talk."

"N-No, Ron. I-It's too soon," she stuttered, unaware she was backing into the shadows of the night and away from the party. He was resolute, replying the exact opposite of whatever she said, and remaining absolutely calm throughout the ordeal. Finally, they were surrounded by pitch black, the young witch stumbling over a tree stump and landing on her bum. Ron knelt down beside her, a lopsided grin on his face. She buried her face in her hands, her eyes leaking with tears. She wasn't crying over Ronald Weasley. No...not him. "My-My favorite dress...ruined by the mud!" she blurted, forcing herself to think that was the reason tears spilled from her eyes.

"Mud, you say? Sure...it's mud then," he replied, earning a quick punch on the arm. He flinched, but didn't complain. "Hermione...I'm here to-"

"Beg for me? Apologize and say you never meant those words? Expect me to fall in your arms and go into the cycle of break up, heartbreak, and then back together? Or maybe ask me to pretend I didn't spend fifteen bloody years with a boy who didn't even think of his future other than work, Quidditch, and meet-ups with Harry!"

She huffed indignantly, reeling her fist back to punch him square in the nose, but something clicked inside her as she stared into those familiar blue eyes under the waning moon. Ron took the chance to finally speak. "I-I'm not asking you to do any of those things for me. I...I just want my best mate back. I know we won't be able to become like we were before we dated, but I'm just asking you...can we at least try?"

Her knees trembled under the gravity of the situation, burying her face in her hands. There was the Ron she lost. Her heart thumped rapidly in her chest, shoulders shaking as she realized she found the Ron she had fallen in love with. Those tender blue eyes filled with sincerity and brutal loyalty, no longer the cold and unfeeling eyes she had grown accustomed to the last few years in the relationship. He was kneeling by her side, rubbing her back in soothing circles-just like he used to. He wiped the tears from her eyes with his massive thumb-just like he used to. Ron hurriedly cleaned her up with a swift swish of his wand and scooped her up-just like he used to. She burst into another fit of tears and buried her face in the crook of his neck. He whispered soothing words in her ear. "Don't worry, 'Mione. Your best mate's right here."

Her sobs escalated when she heard those words, hardly noticing the change of scenery, or the concerned looks of everyone who saw her, or even the hazy conversations Ron briefly held with several people once they were inside. They sat on the couch together, Hermione settled in Ron's lap as he combed his fingers through her curls, absently staring at the crackling fire before them. After about half an hour, she forced herself to calm down, shifting uncomfortably on his lap. This was too intimate. Ron shifted over, allowing her to sit on the sofa beside him. "You alright, Hermione?"

"Ron...y-you've changed," she breathed, wiping her nose with a handkerchief he offered her. He nodded. "Yeah...I changed back, really. Less of a monster."

She smiled dryly, twisting the handkerchief in her hands as she stared out the window. "Yeah..."

"Please hear me out," he said suddenly. Her smile faltered, but she nodded anyway. "The day after you arrived at the Burrow, Harry pulled me and Ginny aside and told us he needed our help. I had been thinking about you ever since you stepped back into my life, 'Mione, and I would do anything to get you to notice I changed. I'm here to help you and Harry now. And yesterday, I realized...we can't be lovers and friends at the same time. We-"

"Why not?" she blurted, leaning forward hopelessly. Ron edged away, but neither seemed to notice as he continued. "We're just not meant to be. But I want to be in your life. I need you in mine. And...And the best way is as friends, right?"

She settled back down in her seat, her heart finally realizing Ron no longer loved her that way. The Ron she loved...didn't feel that way anymore. It gripped her heart more than she thought it would. "I'll be-"

He waved it off, an understanding look on his face. "Take as long as you need, Hermione. I'll be waiting, alright?"  
>She nodded stiffly, hands clenched around his handkerchief, and escaped upstairs.<p>

* * *

><p>The next morning, Harry rapped on her bedroom door angrily. "Hermione Granger! You step out this instant!"<p>

Ginny rolled her eyes and twisted the doorknob, pushing the door open. The room was completely neat and tidy, done the Muggle way, they noticed, a small piece of paper on the nightstand. Harry crossed over, holding it up curiously.

_It's too soon.  
>-HG<em>

* * *

><p><strong><em>Review. Pretty please with a hug from Draco! <em>**


	8. It's So Close

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**A/N: I chose the song "So Close" by John McLaughlin because I think it's a sweet song portraying unrequited feelings and such. Listen to it sometime, yeah? (Yes. I named the chapter after the song.)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: It's So Close<strong>

Draco entered his empty home, Scorpius trailing slowly behind, dragging his lifeless bear with him. All six elves popped in with big, eager smiles on their faces. Pips tugged on Draco's coat. "Master...Master Hermione is here."

Draco nodded, patting a few elves' heads as he walked by. "Sprigs?"

"Yes, Master!" piped the elf, rushing to his side. Draco shrugged out of his coat. "Bring Scorpius to his room. He needs some sleep."

Sprigs bobbed his head up and down, leading the young boy up the stairs to his room. He turned to Pips, shrugging off his coat. "Where's Granger?"

Pips carefully took the coat, making sure it didn't touch the ground. "Library, Master. Shall Pips take you there?"

He shook his head tiredly, slowly ascending up the stairs. He took the bulk of envelopes tied neatly with string from another elf, deciding whether or not to read them all yet. Once he tugged the string off, he sorted through work envelopes and "worthless" envelopes: invitations to balls, weddings, games that weren't Quidditch. He swung the door open, eyes staring at an invitation he was planning to toss out. "Hey, Granger. What are you doing back in the Manor so soo...n...?" His words faltered when he saw her. Granger?"

Hermione sat curled in his desk chair, absently tracing the initials 'R.W.' on a maroon red hankerchief. Her empty brown eyes were puffy and rimmed with tears, cheeks a rosy red, agitated from all of her constant sleeve-wiping. But that was all that seemed off. Her hair was down and well-maintained and her clothes seemed fresh enough. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out when her gaze slowly shifted to him. Her eyes narrowed, lips pursing into an even deeper frown. He expected her to blow up and hex him, throw books, and curse with words he was sure she never used before. She inhaled deeply. "Malfoy."

_Okay, think, Draco. Women like being complimented. It makes them happy, right?_ Male reasoning crept into his mind. He shifted uncomfortably with his feet. "You look...nice today."

She waved it off, swallowing another urge to cry. "Right," she dragged the word out, not believing him. "I was going to...visit Ron...but I chickened out. Pathetic, right?"

He crossed over to her, hands pressed firmly on the desk. "Not pathetic. Somewhere close, but not pathetic. What happened?"

Her lips quivered and she tore her gaze away to stare at the wrinkled handkerchief in her hands. "You wouldn't understand."

He sighed, inwardly knowing he might regret this. "Try me."

"I found the man I love a few days ago. It hit me, hard. And I didn't know what to do with those feelings. He doesn't feel the same way for me. I know it."

A faint blush crawled up his cheeks, his heart tugging a bit. He coughed, shoving the feeling away. "Who is it?"

She looked up at him, brown eyes shining from the tears. "Ron."

He sighed, not knowing if it was from relief or disappointment. Draco didn't know what to say about her 'revelation', especially when he heard stories of fighting going on for days from Potter. Their relationship wasn't healthy, that's for sure. He crossed his arms, shifting his body so he was leaning on the desk, his back toward her. The only solution he could think of was distract her. "What'd you get for Christmas?"

Hermione sighed, glad for the change in topic. "A little of this, a little of that. Oh, and my parents got me an iTouch."

He swiveled his gaze at the object in her hands. "I really like it. It has music, games, and it's like a mini-computer when I have this thing called 'WiFi'."

Her gaze shifted back to the hankerchief in her lap. Draco whipped out his envelopes before she got too far into her thoughts. "Hey, Granger! Let's go to..." he ripped open one envelope and quickly scanned the seafoam green invitation. "...Mr. Parkinson's Birthday Ball!"

She stared at him, one eyebrow raised. "As much as I'd love to," she drawled, "I don't know how to dance."

"C'mon," he grabbed her wrist and led her to the middle of the room. She stood bashfully before him, arms glued to her sides. He rolled his eyes. "Get your...iTouch to play something."  
>She grinned wryly, tapping the screen to the Music app. "Something tasteful," he growled. She placed a hand on her chest. "Of course! I'm appalled you'd think it wouldn't be."<p>

**[Play now.]**

She set it down on the desk, the volume at its highest. Chimes filled the air as he looped one arm around her waist, his free hand intertwined with her left. He grabbed her right hand and placed it on his shoulder. Did she really not know? She stared at the floor, careful not to step on his feet. He smirked, lifting her chin. "When dancing, you look into your partner's eyes."

He slowed the pace down. She hesitantly obliged, biting her lip nervously. Draco flashed her a quick, approving half-grin, slowly swaying by shifting his weight from left to right. "Better?" he jested. She scowled at him, but nodded. A wave of familiarity overwhelmed her, and she tore her gaze away from him, pressing her face into his chest as she held in another sob. Her arms snaked around his torso, his own doing the same. "I...miss him. So much. I know this isn't like me and-and..."

He nodded stiffly._She was dancing with him! Draco Malfoy! Sexiest beast alive! How could she be distracted by Weasley?_ He pushed those thoughts away, focusing on the matter at hand. No matter how uncomfortable he felt, he knew she needed someone right now. And she had him. His eyelids fluttered shut, squeezing her tighter as she cried again, her hands gripping him like there was no tomorrow. "I miss him!" she wailed into his chest. His heart constricted as her body trembled against him. He brought up his hand to stroke her auburn curls, pausing at the last minute and forgetting about the act altogether. Anger filled his being. _No matter who you are_, he thought,_you are scum if you make a woman cry_. Another whimper tore him from his thoughts. He forced himself to calm down, not wanting to frighten the shaken girl in his arms. Hermione's sobs ebbed away as she began to hum, no doubt trying to distract herself again. "Sing," he ordered her with a soft whisper.  
>"...To hold you so close. So close to reaching that famous happy end. Almost believing this was not pretend," she wasn't singing at all, choosing to speak the words as if it were a poem engraved into her heart, a promise she tenderly awaited for. "So far...we are so close."<br>Those words flared in his mind as she whispered, voice hoarse. The orchestra escalated to dramatic proportions, her broken voice digging into his brain, through his thoughts, and looping around his heart. They were no longer moving, just holding each other as she continued reciting the song. Draco pitied her. _Any man would be lucky to have you, Granger. Don't be like that. Be the stubborn little know-it-all that I know that you are. This...this is uncomfortable._ Oh, how he wanted to say those words, but they wouldn't form on his tongue as he gazed sympathetically at her mop of brown hair.  
>"So close...and still so far," she breathed, tearing away from him. She grabbed her iTouch and excused herself from the room, thoughts still trained on Ron, unaware of the feelings swirling around in the man she left behind. He plopped down on his arm chair, picking up the handkerchief with his thumb and index finger, disgusted with it. <em>She's better without this<em>, he thought, tossing it into the air. "_Incendio," _he muttered, pointing to the red piece of cloth. It burst into flames, disintegrating into ashes before it even touched the floor_._

* * *

><p>Hermione sat in the courtyard, ruffling up Scorpius' platinum blond hair. Three days had passed, and Hermione was able to walk around without the threat of breaking down and crying. But was it really her fault? Spending years with a man with the emotional stability of a rollercoaster paid its toll on Hermione. Fear drove her away from what Ron had asked her of, the thing she wanted most: friendship. Years of rifling through all the trash he had done to her, looking for a small glimmer of hope that she and Ron were indeed soulmates. But he had disappeared, leaving her with a shell of a being, and she felt betrayed and resentful to him. All these years she waited for him to finally be 'Ron', and when she finally left him, <em>he's back?<em> She shook her head. Now was not the time to think about him like that. Never again, actually.

_"A boy is destined to break your heart, my dear," said Lady Faye, a motherly smile on her face, "But a man will spend his entire life looking for it, fighting for it, and tending for it. It seems this Ron you were talking about is the boy who did the damage. Don't worry, love, your Prince Charming will come."_

_"But I don't want Prince Charming," she whispered hoarsely. "I want Ron."_

_Lady Faye sighed, placing her hand on her portrait, like she was looking at Hermione through a window of glass. "Hermione, darling, you'll see soon enough that your heart doesn't belong with him, just like his heart doesn't belong to yours."_

_Hermione nodded, trying to keep her face neutral from the crushing statement she just heard. She wanted to fight back, to insist that it was so. But it would be pointless."I-I must go..."_

She requested Lady Faye to be moved closer to her bedroom, Draco quickly complying and asking if she needed anything else. Perhaps the painting would help her get through it. He was rather strange around her now, suffocating even, but Hermione brushed it off. _He's just worried. That's all._ Snow still coated the Manor, and as much as she'd hate to admit it, but she impatiently awaited the arrival of spring. Scorpius' bear danced clumsily for the both of them, the young boy clapping gleefully with a beat. Hermione chuckled. "Did you enjoy my present, Scorpius?"

He shook his head simply. "No."

She frowned, her hands still running through his silky hair. "Oh? Why not?"

"Papa ate it all," he replied innocently. She smiled down at him, inwardly questioning Draco for stealing his son's birthday present. "How about I make it for you again sometime?"

He nodded, hands smoothing out his jumper. His bear twirled once before sitting down on the ground and becoming motionless. Draco appeared, tapping her shoulder. She tucked a curl behind her ear and looked up at him. "Yes?"

"Potter's here. We need to talk. Scorpius, go inside and get ready. I'm taking you to visit Grandmum."

The toddler obeyed without question, taking his bear and hurrying inside. Hermione followed Draco to the study. "Is everything alright?"

"Most likely. Here," he jabbed her lightly with a velveteen box. She snarled at him in annoyance. "Wait, Malfoy."

He stopped walking, hands dug in his pockets. "Mm?"

"What is this?" she asked cautiously, tracing her fingers along the black box.

"It's a box."

"What's inside?"

"Open it if you want to know."

"But-"

"Just open it, damn it," he muttered, scuffing up some snow with his right foot. She stuck her tongue out at him. "You don't have to be such a prat about it."

He sniffed, continuing inside without her. She pried the box open with a muffled click, her jaw dropping in surprise. It was the necklace she wanted at the market! She held it up to the glowing sunlight, a smile etched onto her features. The blue stone glittered delicately, held by a thin string of silver. It looked different, yet altogether the same. She sighed, staring at it dreamily before following Draco up the stairs.

"Malfoy!" she hollered, bursting into the room. He was standing across from Harry with a glass of firewhiskey in his hand, speaking idle chatter with his companion. He looked up at her, blinking slowly. "Granger."

She beamed at him and held up the necklace for the two to see. "Thank you. Really."

He shrugged, a smug grin on his face. Hermione unclasped the necklace and tossed her curls out of the way, reaching behind and trying to do it herself. Her lip twitched in annoyance when her hair kept falling back and preventing her from clipping it together. She looked up pleadingly with a half-grin on her face. "Harry..."

He chuckled, taking the clasp and doing it for her as she held up her hair. Draco stared out the window and finished his glass, setting it down on his desk and leaning on it. "Okay, Potter. Now to business."

Harry's grin faded as he drifted over to the couch and settled down, pulling out a small notebook. "Jenna had a son, Felix, who disappeared before their father died. He was of age, and he always talked of leaving to go to Germany or America, so the parents never filled out a missing form. There isn't any interesting information on Peter Whitman. Loving husband, father, son...worked as a minor architect. That's it."

Draco growled, clenching his jaw as he stared at the floor. "This doesn't make sense...if he had nothing special on him...are you sure you got EVERYTHING?"

Harry nodded. "We had Jenna take veratiserum. That's all she knew, and Peter confided everything with her."

Draco ran a hand through his platinum blond hair, ruining his perfectly combed style. Hermione pursed her lips. "We just need to give it time..."

"We don't have time, Granger! Someone out there is a maniac's next victim and if we don't hurry they'll die! Can you get that through your head? They will _die_!" he seethed. He shot a menacing glare in Harry's direction. "Do your job, Potter."

He stormed out of the office, leaving a stunned Harry and Hermione in his office. Harry frowned, shooting Hermione a sympathetic look. "Sorry, 'Mione. There's a reason he's like that right now, but I don't think it's my right to tell you. I-It's better if he tells you."

She nodded resolutely, gently placing her hand over the necklace he had given her. Hermione was tempted to call Draco a 'selfish monster', but what hung around her neck was proof that he wasn't. He was a changed man. It was enough to keep her silent. "I'll go find him."

Harry nodded. "I never planned to stay long. A new case popped up and I need to visit the site."

He kissed her forehead and disappeared down another hallway as Hermione ventured to his room. An elf was busily fixing up his bed and sprucing up the room, humming off-tune and waving its spindly hands in the air. She would have laughed at how endearing Pips looked if the previous scenario hadn't occurred. "Pips?"

The elf jumped up, startled. "Master Hermione!"

Hermione frowned. "I didn't mean to scare you, Pips."

Pips shook his head. "Pips is sorry. Does Master Hermione need something?"

"Yes. Where's Master Malfoy?"

"Master Draco? Master left by the Floo."

* * *

><p>Draco massaged his temple, cursing inwardly in the predicament he was in. He sat up straight when Astoria entered, black billowy curls flowing gently behind her. She smiled, placing a tender hand on his shoulder and motioned for her husband to come in. "Martin, my love, come in and meet my friend, Draco."<p>

A burly man entered in khaki pants and a baggy blue t-shirt, blue eyes twinkling with amusement. He extended his hand across the table and smiled cordially. "Good evening, Mr. Malfoy. I have heard much about you."

Draco took it, hiding his bitterness perfectly with a well-placed nod. "Ah, you must be Martin Doucet."

Astoria seated down in the seat between them, adjusting the thin strap on her pale yellow sundress. "Now, Draco, what brings you back?"

Martin didn't seem the least bit angry or disturbed or even curious about her statement, pouring wine into each of their glasses with care. Draco raised a brow. "Wine? It's only lunch."

"Mr. Malfoy," Martin said cheerfully, "This isn't wine. Full of, er, flavor and delicious. Yes, very."

His accent finally appeared, faint, but there nonetheless. Draco nodded and downed the entire drink. He was right. The drink was sweet and tangy, not too watery and not too thick. It seemed somewhat familiar, but he ignored it. "You're right."

Astoria leaned forward, cradling her face in her hands. "Draco...what's wrong?"

"Everything," he muttered, eyes shooting wide open when the word tumbled out of his mouth. He glared at Martin."Veratiserum?"

Martin nodded smugly. Astoria lightly swatted her husband's hand. "Martin! I told you he could be trusted!"

He smirked, crossing his arms. "My love, don't you think it a little odd that your ex-husband visits you often?"

"You're speaking nonsense! Shoo!" she said, pushing him out of his chair and out of the room. "Don't you dare come back until you're thinking straight!"

Martin frowned and hung his head and left. Astoria sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and plopping down on the chair. "I'm sorry, Draco. Martin has a jealous streak, but that's what makes him cute, no?"

"No," he replied and clamped his hand over his mouth in shock. Astoria laughed. "Ah, jealousy doesn't appeal much to men, but women like it. We find it cute. So what's wrong?"

"Everything," he said again. She shook her head. "What's bothering you the most?"

"There are people dying out there."

"Well, of course. But that happens every day. It's a part of life, so that shouldn't be bothering you too much," she mused, tapping her chin as she stared at him. "Who's dying?"

"Muggles," he replied without hesitation. It seemed Astoria was taking advantage of the drink he had taken. He had long given up trying to hold it back. She raised a brow. "Muggles? How are you concerned with them?"

His eyes widened, and he willed himself to remain silent. "Case...with Potter," he ground out. The two remained silent for a few minutes, but to Draco, it seemed like an eternity. She tilted her head to the side. "I'm curious now. Tell me everything?"

"Muggles...dead...with weird cuts on their body...like tally marks and...a flag?"

Astoria handed him a tissue and a pen. "Draw it for me."

"But-"

"Do it," her tone was one that wouldn't be defied. He obeyed, drawing a curved 'V' and a slender line going through the top. He slid the napkin over to her. She raised a brow at it. "That is curious."

"My love. I'm here to apologize to Mr. Malfoy," Martin burst into the room, chest puffed out in pride. Astoria waved it off. "Love, have a look."

Martin plopped down in his old seat and took the napkin lazily. His eyes fell upon Draco's crude drawing, face immediately paling. "Where did you find this?"

Draco felt the veratiserum wearing off, thankfully. "On Peter Whitman when he was killed in France. You wouldn't know anything about it, would you?"

"What benefit is it to you, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked icily. Draco leaned forward, a smug smile on his face. "I have the full support of the Ministry behind me. Do tell how you recognize this?"

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you all for your reviews! I'm finally getting down to business, eh? By the way, I'm hoping that this story will end up...noncliché? (Which is why I had Harry put on the necklace instead of Draco. Boo.) So...if there's a moment like that (other than the dance. I just had to.), please tell me how cheesy it was on a scale of 1-10. And if it was…enjoyable?<strong>


	9. It's Slow

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling's.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 9: It's Slow<strong>

Draco stumbled through the flames; his eyes alight with glee and accomplishment. He dashed out of the den and scoured the manor for Hermione. "Granger? Granger! I found a lead!"

Crumpy yelped at the sight of his Master and fell to his knees in tears. "Crumpy is sorry! Crumpy is sorry!"

Draco's light mood vanished when he saw the distraught elf. Panic flooded his being as he knelt down and grabbed the elf rather forcefully by the arm. "What's wrong?"  
>"Master Hermione-Forbidden Roo-" the elf choked out through the tears. "Crumpy is sorry!"<p>

Draco bolted upright and dashed down the stairs to the room he had locked up long ago. His blood ran cold when he saw the curtain pulled aside, the door ajar. He took quick strides to the entrance, instinctly grabbing his wand in his pocket. He always hated that room since Hermione's incident. Everything was just how it was all those years ago. A broken chandelier was tossed carelessly aside, scuff marks and broken glass on the floor where the chandelier once hung above. A thick layer of dust covered everything, making it seem a lot older than it was. He tentatively took a step forward. "Granger?"

Nothing. There was no one there. He rubbed his throbbing temple and set up the wards, the Muggle lock, and 'decor again'. He had sealed off that room on purpose. He had hoped Hermione wouldn't be sticking her nose where it didn't belong, but then again, that was one of her key traits. He scowled. A thick layer of dust and grime coated the wall, and he threw in cobwebs and ferocious-looking spiders for good measure. Tossing the curtain back over the door, he slowly ascended the stairs and dragged himself to Hermione's room.

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><p>Hermione sat huddled on her massive bed, her back pressed against her headboard, chin tucked safely on her knees as her arms pulled her legs closer to her body. Wet locks were glued to the sides of her face and the nape of her neck, drenching her grey tank top. She had taken a shower in an attempt to soothe her nerves, but that did nothing to help her. Loving the soft cloth her navy blue pajama pants she was wearing, she buried her nose deeper in between her knees. She heard the distinct chatter of Lady Faye warning Draco of her current condition. She sighed, preparing herself for whatever he was going to give her.<p>

"Granger..." he crossed the room in a few strides and sat on the edge of her bed, grey eyes staring warily at her, as though he was contemplating something. Before she could say something to break the silence, he swung his legs onto the bed and kneeled in front of her. They stared at each other again. _Merlin, this is awkward..._ Just before she thought it couldn't get any worse, he hesitantly extended his arms and delicately pulled him toward her. He gulped nervously. "Uh...There...There?"

She went rigid under his touch and squirmed away. "Malfoy? What's gotten into you?"

He growled and rubbed the back of his neck, glaring at her. "Damn it, Granger, I was trying to comfort you!"

"Well you're doing it wrong!" she shot back, edging away from him. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back abruptly. She yelped and fell on her back. She glared at him, her arm twisted in an awkward position, his hand still securely around her wrist. His face was suddenly sober and sympathetic, lips pursed in a thin line as he stared at her exposed arm. The word 'mudblood' was nearly faded in her porcelain skin, but it still shined with a satiny luster. Hesitantly, he reached out and traced the 'M', then the 'u', and so on until he reached the end of the horrible word. She cringed in shame when he touched her scar, but she didn't pull away. The look on his face was too fascinating. Never had she seen so many emotions on the man's face. She spotted regret, grief, sympathy, and...awe? He shifted his gaze wistfully at her, releasing his grip on her wrist but still tracing the scar. She smiled bitterly at him before staring at the ceiling. "I remember that day. I remembered everything about it."

"Me too," he said softly. She shook her head and chuckled non-humorously. "I hated you ever since that day. I honestly truly felt that I hated you. You were there, Draco. You were there and you did _nothing_."

Draco cringed, pulling his hand away from her. She stared up at him and forced a smile. "But later in life...I realized...You _couldn't_do anything. And to me, there's a fine line between 'couldn't' and 'wouldn't'. So I decided not to hate you. If you did the valiant thing back then...I doubt you'd be alive right now...so..."

She trailed off, staring back up at the ceiling. "I went into that room thinking you were there. I thought you called it the 'Forbidden Room' because everyone was...well...forbidden. Except you. And I went through all that trouble just to find...that."

Draco eased down on the mattress, suppressing a groan as he felt his muscles fighting the slow, painful movement. He automatically relaxed once he was lying down, his legs swung over the side of the bed, his face about a foot away from hers. She copied his movements, her feet dangling a few inches above the floor, swinging them idly. They remained silent for a couple more minutes until Draco turned his face in her direction. "You're the reason I'm taking this case, Granger."

She slowly turned her gaze to him in disbelief. "Pardon?"

"Really. That room...that day...it showed me what a coward I was. True, I couldn't have done much to help you, but still. And then...when I noticed the Muggle murders... I felt like it was my duty to do this. It was my way of redeeming myself for my lack of courage over my entire life. Back then, I didn't have any options, but now I do. I can try to save these people. Hopefully, this releases a little guilt I have bottled up in here," he said, pointing to where his heart was. Hermione sat up. "Malfoy..."

He waved it off, sitting up as well. "It's nothing. I really enjoyed this talk. This was considered...what friends do right?"

"Umm...Yeah?" she raised a quizzical brow at him. "Don't your friends do this?" she asked in a playful tone. He scowled at her. "Believe it or not, we do. But we treat our friends a little bit more different than you Gryffindors."

Draco stood up and straightened his attire, glancing out the bay window at nothing in particular. "Do you feel better?"

She nodded, surprising only herself. "Thanks."

Another moment of silence. He absent-mindedly rubbed his chin and glanced in her direction. "So...are we on a first name basis now?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. Let's just find out."

"Hermione. Her-_mi-_one. Hermio-nee," he held out the 'e', eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Her...mione. Hermione."

She smirked. "Draco? Dra...co. D...raco. No, no this isn't working."

* * *

><p>An awkward hush filled the room as Hermione quickly trailed behind Draco's confident strides. His chin was jutted up, grey eyes cold and unwavering as he watched the co-workers. He was used to being watched and gossiped about. But unlike him, Hermione wasn't as used to her fame. Not when she was admired for being a War Hero, and not now. She hung her head low, a blush crawling up her cheeks as Ron passed by and talked with a fellow co-worker. She breathed a sigh of relief, wondering how he didn't notice the two of them. In the corner of her eye, she saw Draco tucking his wand back in his pocket. "Oh...that's why she resigned," a plump woman whispered to the younger girl next to her, "Dating a Malfoy. No need to work 'ere. Makes sense, but I think 'at's all rubbish."<p>

"Now, Miss Finks," the young girl whispered back, green eyes alight with awe, "I do believe they suit each other rather well. I've always fancied idea of the bad guy and the good girl together."

"You need some air," chided the older woman, returning to her work. "Whatever the case, I highly disapprove of such a sweet girl being with the likes of a Malfoy. The bad boy always hurts you. Get that in that thick skill o' yours."

Hermione sighed, sauntering in into Harry's office when Draco opened the door for them. Harry sat behind his desk, black hair slicked to the side in an attempt to look formal. She held in a snort, settling down in the chair he gestured her to and peeled off her jacket. Draco sat down in the chair next to hers, his face grave and smug at the same time. Harry glanced up at the magical clock hanging above the door, drumming his fingers incessantly on his smooth desk. "Why did it have to be here, Malfoy?"

"I won't have that_ bastard_ in my home," Draco scoffed, picking up a picture frame off of his desk. "Weaselette-I mean...Mrs. Potter looks lovely in this picture."

Hermione looked at the door curiously. "Mind your language, Malfoy. And who's this guy?"

"Martin Doucet. Draco forced me to look up some information on him," Harry explained, reaching over and snatching the picture from Draco's hands. They glared at each other for a few seconds before Draco huffed and picked up yet another picture frame. "Hey," Harry warned. Draco waved him off. "You've got millions more at home, Potter. And it's not like I'm stealing it."

Harry sighed, falling back in his seat. "He's clean. Sure, stole once from a candy shop-"

"Bloody git. Stealing from a candy shop. How juvenile," muttered Draco, staring intently at the picture in his hands.

"When he was seven," Harry continued, obviously frustrated. "Malfoy, if you're going to act like this the entire time, I suggest you leave."

He remained silent, setting the picture frame back on the desk. "Granger. Your phone."

Hermione rolled her eyes and handed it to him. He took it without hesitation and started playing with it.

"He's like a child," Harry commented with an uncomfortable smile. She smirked. "If only it were that simple. He just needs something to fiddle with because he's upset. He's releasing some frustration right now. Better than hexing if you ask me."

Someone knocked on the door. "Come in!" Harry called, straightening his coat. A tan-skinned man entered in khaki slacks and a light blue button up, his eyes cool and reserved as he seated himself in the last available seat in Harry's office. Harry smiled in acknowledgement, taking his wand and using a silencing charm around the room. "There we are. Thank you for seeing us today, Mr. Doucet."

"You as well," he replied, shaking hands with him. He turned his head and smiled nervously. "You must be Hermione Granger. It is an honor to meet you."

His smile faltered when he locked eyes with Draco. "Hello, Mr. Malfoy."

"Doucet," he regarded coldly. "Well, you're here now. Inform them of what you know."

"Wait," Hermione said, grabbing her phone. She clicked a few buttons and set it down on the desk. "Okay, now talk."

"Recorder?" he asked, although he didn't seem too surprised. She nodded. "Research for later. Go on."

He sat back in his chair, pressing his temples. "Well...I should start from the beginning. A few months ago, in mid-April, I believe, it was my uncle's birthday. I loved him dearly. Well, he's not my uncle by blood or marriage, but I go to him often when I feel like I need a companion. He's a Muggle, by the way."

Draco gave a 'I told you' look to Harry. Unaware, Martin continued, "We had a wonderful time, but when I went back home...There was a young man waiting for me on my couch. He looked very...casual about breaking into my house. He invited me for a drink, and I don't know why, but I did. He said that he was a Reaper, and he had come to do me a favor concerning my uncle. I was furious about how he said it, so I told him to leave. The boy said a position is always open for me, and that they would accept me with open arms when my uncle threw me out for being a wizard. I then told him he didn't know at all and probably never would. He said he understood and left. I filed a breaking and entering report, but the wizard detectives said there was no proof, so I was forced to let it go."

Harry slowly nodded. "Is there anything else?"

"I asked them who their leader was. He didn't know. He gave his name willingly though. Bernard Kirby. I asked him why he is called a Reaper. He said, 'Muggles will be reaping what they are sowing'. I would have chased him, but I couldn't. Paralyzed me for about twenty minutes."

"How is your uncle?" Hermione piped up. Martin smiled. "Very well, thank you. They haven't attacked him."

"So what do you think, Potter?" Draco asked. Hermione reached over and put her phone in her pocket, her gaze fixated on Harry. "I'll get some research done on the Reapers and if they've been heard anywhere. Thank you for your time, Mr. Doucet."

"If I may, could I still be involved with this case?" he asked tentatively, looking pleadingly into Harry's green eyes.

"No," Draco said adamantly.

"Sure!" Hermione grinned, standing up and shaking his hand. "We'd appreciate your help."

"Why do you even want to help on this case, Doucet?" Draco growled. Martin glared back at him and stabbed Draco's chest with his index finger. "They threatened my uncle. I won't take any chances."

Martin slowly backed away, bowed his head and disappeared out the door without another word. Harry sucked in his breath, hoping to get past what just happened and removed the silencing charm. "I think it's time we get more help. But I want it to be the ones we trust the most."

"Ginny," Hermione suggested. Harry shook his head. "No...not...not her. She's-I can't. Hermione, I suggest Ron."

Her face paled. "No, not Ron. Not Ron. You know why it shouldn't be Ron. There's Neville, Luna, Bill, Charlie...Seamus!"

Harry's eyes grew soft, his lips forced into a small frown. "'Mione..."

"Harry! I can't-He's-It's Ron!" she blurted in disbelief. "He's not capable-"

"He's more than capable, Hermione!" Harry replied swiftly. Hermione sat back down in her seat, stunned. "He hurt me. He broke me. He was a monster to me. He made a monster out of me. You can't expect things to go smoothly with him around!"

"Damn it, Hermione, let it go!" Harry yelled, his fists clenched. "I would choose someone else, but I can't! I can't think of anyone better than Ron! You know it too! You know he's capable! You just can't get past what happened!"

Hermione remained silent for a moment, staring at the floor. She tugged on Draco's sleeve and murmured, "Let's go."

"'Mione, I'm sorry," Harry blurted, rising from his seat. Draco motioned for him to stay put, opening the door for Hermione. "We'll see you when you have the information."

"But-"

"Information, Potter," he restated firmly, shutting the door behind him. The two walked together in silence, Hermione occasionally waving at a few passing wizards. Ron passed by and offered a lop-sided grin before continuing on. She sighed. "I honestly hoped he would have given more of a fuss, especially since I'm walking with you. No offense."

"Forget about it," he said casually as they reached the apparition point.

* * *

><p>Hermione jabbed her wand at Draco's jugular viciously, her chest heaving as she tried to regain her breath. Her hair was all over the place, brown eyes narrowed on the man in front of her. Draco held up his hands in defeat. "You won, Granger. You can lower your wand now."<p>

She slowly did what she was told, eyes roaming his body at all the injuries she had caused. Gashes adorned his arms like a tiger's stripes, but she knew she had done worse. "You alright, Malfoy?"

He nodded, lowering himself to the ground and peeling off his coat. "Yeah. You were fighting hard today. Frustrations?"

She nodded, seating herself across from him and pulling up her pant leg. She winced, _Accio_'ing some healing balms over and wiping off some blood from the cut he gave her. Draco reached over and took one of the healing potions, gulping all of the bitter tasting serum quickly. Hermione applied the healing ointments on her wounds, watching it with dull fascination as it healed right before her eyes. The medical field had improved greatly in fifteen years. Draco unbuttoned his shirt, grabbing some ointment and lathering over his chest. "I-" he sucked in his breath at the sudden pain before relaxing again. "I'm having visitors over tonight."

"So?" she asked wearily, pulling up her shirt sleeve and reaching for a developing bruise. Draco sighed, rubbing the ointment on for her. "Just wanted to warn you. Why don't we go inside?"

She shook her head. "I don't like to move too much after a fight. You can go on without me."

"It's really cold-"

"You can go on without me, Malfoy," she repeated herself, her tone daring to be questioned. Draco huffed, dragging himself to his feet. "Suit yourself."

She stuck her tongue out at his retreating back, fighting back a shiver. The last thing she needed to show was being wrong. Hermione sighed, rubbing her arms slowly. Her fingers felt the faint markings of the scar Bellatrix had given her, reminding her of that night. She gritted her teeth together at the memory, pushing it aside. Shivers ran up her spine as she remained on the ground for another half-hour. Slowly pushing herself up, she stared at the grey sky before shuffling inside. The snow was slowly disappearing, and Hermione was hoping her distraught feelings would as well. "Ron isn't a monster," she murmured to herself as she ascended the stairs. She waved at Lady Faye before continuing on to her room for a much needed bath. He would be working with her. Just like old times. Hermione was quite sure Ron would save her somewhere along the line. He always did. Yes, dependable old Ron. She would trust him. She had to, right? There was no other way. And Harry was right, she was being childish. She had to get over it. It was for the best.

Hermione sighed, slipping on a light green night gown and snuggling under the covers. No matter what angle she approached Ron, she always came to the same conclusion: she felt something there. But then why, she wondered as sleep claimed her, did she feel she needed Draco's opinion?

* * *

><p>Draco sat in front of the roaring fireplace in the den, a glass of firewhiskey in his hand. Blaise and Theodore sat across from him, holding glasses of firewhiskey as well. The two were wearing identical outfits, a habit they formed over the bromance they had after the war.<p>

"What're you staring at, Blaise?" Draco asked, his tone fierce but held no malice. The dark skinned man shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. He pointed to his own neck, tilting his head to the side for a better angle."You got a little lovebite here, mate."

Draco prodded it with two fingers tentatively, slightly relaxing when he realized what it was. It was the bruise from Hermione's wand from earlier."Oh, no. My secretary did this."

Theodore Nott rolled his eyes. "Of course she would."

Blaise raised an eyebrow, his gaze sliding mischievously in Theo's direction. "Isn't Hermione Granger your secretary, Draco?"

Draco realized the misunderstanding, but was rather unwilling to say she beat him in a duel, resulting in the ill-placed bruise. His friends would mock him for days. He scrunched up his nose in disgust. "I would never let her touch me like that."

Theodore hummed, staring off into space. "I would. She looked smashing on the cover of Witch Weekly last year. Say, is she here?"

Draco shrugged, taking a swig of firewhiskey. Blaise grinned. "I hear she's changed, you know. A lot less uptight."

"Yeah, right," he scoffed. Sure, she had loosened up, but not enough for it to be considered a dramatic change. Theo set the glass down and clapped his hands together. "Let's meet her tomorrow, Draco. C'mon. I hear from Pansy Parkinson that Granger's a lovely woman and she's very nice and kind and-"

"Why do you want to meet her?" Draco asked suspiciously, his grey eyes studying every single movement Theo made. He would be able to spot a lie when he saw one. He was the master of it, of course. Blaise stepped in, flashing an arrogant smile in his direction. "To see if Miss Muggleborn is as interesting as Pans says she is. Hey, she's single. I'm single. Theo's single. You're single. She's bound to fall over one of our charms."

"I say this is fair game," Theo said with a playful smile.

"Whoever mentioned a game?" Draco shot back quickly. Blaise nudged his companion gently. "No one, Draco. Calm down. It's not like she's yours."

"Y-You're right," he said, slumping down in his seat. Blaise poured himself another glass of whiskey. "Ten o' clock it is. Now onto more important matters, I hear Brad Bricksworth broke his arm while trying to catch a snitch..."

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><p><strong>I honestly don't know if I should include their lunch tomorrow. And, I'm sorry it ended in such a dull note, but the chapter is so long I decided to split it in half. Yeah… anyhoo, review!<strong>

**Oh, and thank you all for telling me my story isn't cheesy, and I'm striving to keep it that way.**


	10. Rhododendron

**Disclaimer: It's JK Rowling's.**

**Aha! I have decided to end the era of the similar title chapters. I dunno if you noticed or not. *shrugs* Oh well. I've decided to go on the 'Symbolic Flower' thing. **

**School has started for me. Sigh.**

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><p>Harry smiled hesitantly and pushed forward an open file on their special case. Several blurry photos were clipped to other files: receipts, hotel check-ins, train tickets, etc. Working late had proved fruitful, especially with the help of Martin Doucet. He and his wife, Astoria, now lived with the Potters for over two weeks and were surprisingly, pleasant guests.<p>

Hermione pointed to one of the photos, her brown eyes trained on him. "Are these pictures all of the same man?"

He nodded. "We don't know his name yet, but he was always seen near the scene of the crime. His latest plane ticket goes all the way to-"

"Why would he need a plane ticket if he's a wizard?" Ron interrupted. "More importantly, what in bloody hell is goin' on here!"

Hermione snarled at him, tossing him her cellphone. "Here's the audio recording of the meeting we had a few weeks ago. Listen to it outside, if you could."

Ron nodded mutely, his blue eyes tinged with sorrow. Harry sympathized for both of his best friends, but more on Ron's part. He was trying to reconcile with her, but all she did was push him away. It didn't make much sense to him. After Ron closed the door, the trio jumped right back into the conversation. Draco took a few of the receipts, scanning them quickly before tossing them back on the desk. "Hey!" Harry growled, scrambling to put them back in the order that they were. He spent three hours placing all of them in chronological order to help with the case. Hermione gingerly took the three photos, offering him a coaxed out grin, and tried pointing out tiny, seemingly insignificant details. They debated quietly together until Ron came back in. The redhead seemed sullen, but enlightened at the same time. He ran a hand through his hair, letting them fall back to its original spot. "Hermione..."

"Ron," she hissed back. It seemed like an eternity, for honestly, it was. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, his hands dug sheepishly in his pockets. He constantly opened his mouth to speak, but would shake his head and shut them up again. Draco slammed down the hotel bill he was holding and demanded coolly, "If you have something to say, Weasley," he said Ron's name like it was a contagious disease, "Say it now. We have something we're working on."

Ron glared at Draco before nodding his head. He straightened his slumped shoulders, hands balled into tight fists as his lips slowly mouthed what he was planning to say. He looked as though he were bravely delivering the news of her parents' death. "I'm sorry for being a monster," he choked out, his form crumbling down as the words tumbled out of his mouth.

Hermione froze, clenching her fists until her knuckles were white. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the floor, her curls creating a curtain hiding her face. He frowned, crossing the tiny office until he was kneeling in front of her and staring into her deep brown eyes. "If I could take it all back, I would. I woulda treated you better. Honest. I-I...Someday... I know we'll be friends," he crooned gently, taking her tiny fists into his. "We'll be back to the way we were before."

Draco reeled back and punched Ron square in the jaw, his eyes narrowed. Ron tumbled back, his head crashing against Harry's desk. "Don't give her that bullshit," Draco murmured, rubbing his fist from the blow. Hermione fell out of her chair and onto her knees, quickly pulling out her wand and waving it over Ron's chest. "Damn it, Malfoy! He's unconscious!"

Harry rushed over, pulling out his wand as well. He shot Draco a death glare and pointed to the door. "Out."

"Potter-"

He picked up the file and flung it in the blond's direction, his green eyes flashing with anger. "OUT!"

Draco glared right back, ignoring the papers fluttering to the floor, and stalked out. Hermione whispered, "Ennervate."

Ron's eyes fluttered open and Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He groaned, gently prodding his swollen and bleeding cheek. "Agh...what happened?"  
>"I punched you. Sorry," Hermione quickly explained, waving her wand and reducing the swelling. He shook his head and gave a crooked grin. "I'm sure I deserved it...whatever I said."<p>

* * *

><p>Draco looked around anxiously before pulling open a janitor's closet and slipping inside. He cast a silencing charm, as well as a concealment charm so no one would enter in accidentally, staring at the messy alignment of various cleaning supplies. He sucked in his breath, another wave of horrible memories washing through him yet again.<p>

_Astoria stood before him, a serene smile placed on her gentle features. She was clothed in baby blue dress robes, her black curls tamed and pulled back. Her pale skin was rosy with flurried excitement as her personal house elf stood beside her. Draco was holding the newborn Scorpius in his arms, his grey eyes stone cold to mask his pain. She placed a friendly kiss on his cheek, ignoring the baby's presence, and smoothed down Draco's platinum locks. "Someday, we can forget this all happened. We'll be back to who we were before. We'll live the lives that we wanted. This couldn't have been possible without you. Thank you, Draco."_

_She left, and Draco handed his son to an idle elf and retreated to his room. For the first month of his young son's life, he ignored him. It hurt too much. Scorpius Harry Malfoy was an exact replica of his distant father, save for his nose. His nose was smooth like his mother's. 'He just had to get his mother's sodding nose,' he growled, staring down at the picture he received from the photographer he hired the day Scorpius was born. _

_One summer night, Draco felt an odd sensation in his chest. The throbbing emotional gash he received from Astoria's abandonment no longer occupied in his heart. It wasn't killing him so much. He felt empty, restless even. He wandered the hallways, careful not to awaken the sleeping portraits. A soft squeak resonated in the empty hallway, compelling him to follow the noise. Scorpius lay in his crib, his face red and soaked with tears. Draco rushed to his side, quickly picking his only son up and bringing him close to his chest. "Shhhh...Daddy's here."_

_He continued shrieking, not comfortable with the man holding him. The heartbeat was not familiar. His fists were in tight balls as he struggled against the confines of his blanket. Draco pulled them off, bringing him to a window and opening it to the summer air. A soft breeze blew by, eventually soothing both of their nerves. Curious grey eyes peered up at him, occasionally hiccuping and startling him. He stared back, slowly realizing that this was his son. Ignoring him was just following in his father's footsteps. Draco slowly bent down and gave him a hesitant kiss on the forehead, resting his own forehead against his. "Scorpius...My Scorpius. I'm your daddy. Hello..."_

The memory was terrible, despite the first touching moment he had with Scorpius, but he couldn't help it. Astoria left him. He slammed his fist against the concrete wall. After three years, he was still bitter and still in love with her. But the need wasn't as strong. After years of separation, he seemed to accept it. She didn't love him. That was that. Draco straightened his suit, practicing his indifferent mask and returning outside to face Hermione and Harry's wrath. He removed the charms he had set up and headed back to Harry's office to apologize.

* * *

><p>Draco stepped in, his chin held high as he coyly eyed the Golden Trio casually having a cup of coffee. Harry glowered at him, nodding at Hermione. She set her mug down on the desk and stood up, picking up the mustard yellow file and shooing him out of the office. He frowned. "Where are we going?"<p>

"Germany."

"N-Now? I have to see Scorpius!"

She rolled her eyes, tugging him down to the apparition point. "He's at my parents' house. They'll take care of him for as long we're gone."

"But-"

"Malfoy, they're my parents. He'll be fine! I mean, look at me!" she gestured to herself with pride. He simply stared at her, lips pressed into a thin line. After a long pause, she buckled underneath his stare and forced him to Apparate already.

* * *

><p>Hermione stumbled forward, Draco catching her fall before she fell to the ground. His gaze flickered with concern, not for her, but of the location. "You sure this is the right place?"<p>

She nodded in disdain, looking up at the crumbling wooden cottage in front of them. Vines laced through the broken windows and out of the rotted wood panels, shrubs and dead grass adorning the walkway. Draco pulled out his wand cautiously and followed the steps to the chipped door. He twisted his wand slightly, the door swinging open from his nonverbal spell. Hermione followed after him, tossing one glance over her shoulder in case someone saw. No one would; the cottage was in the middle of a forest. "Granger!" Draco hissed, "Get in here!"

"Scared, Malfoy?" she asked dryly, edging her way inside. Light poured in from the holes all around the dingy old cottage, and she swore she saw a rat scurry by her feet. Draco stood next to a table in the middle of what appeared to be the den, holding an ornate card in his trembling fingers. She rushed to his side. In neat, scrawling letters was written:

_Est magicae mortem_._Scorpius. Consider this a warning and leave us be. - Yours truly, the Reapers_

"Scorpius," the both breathed before rushing outside. Draco gripped Hermione's hand, his grey eyes as cold as ice. "Take me to him!" he demanded harshly. Hermione complied without complaint, trying to keep a calm face. Draco was alarmed enough already.

* * *

><p>The two burst through the front door, eyes wide as they scanned the house. "Mum? Dad?" Hermione called, anxiety showing in her voice. Draco rushed around, growling in frustration as he accidentally broke a vase. He fixed it with a quick <em>'Reparo<em>' and continued his search. "Hermione?" a tender voice called from upstairs. "Is that you, darling?"

Hermione grabbed Draco's arm and tugged him up the stairs. "He's up here."

"Mum! Has anyone been up here?" she asked, gripping her mother's shoulders a bit too tightly. She squirmed out of her daughter's grasp and shook her head. "No, not at all."

Draco rushed passed them without another glance, his eyes locking with Scorpius. He let out a breath of relief and scooped him up in his arms and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Scorp...you're sa-"

A blood curdling shriek filled the ear, bursting all of their eardrums. Scorpius squirmed out of his father's reach and tumbled to the floor. His face was pale as he coughed and wheezed, running away from his father's touch and ignoring the ringing pain in his bones from the fall. Draco chased after him, his eyes wide with fright. "Scorpius!"

"Draco, no!" Hermione tackled him to the floor, watching as Scorpius ran into her father's arms and wept bitterly, clutching his shirt and screaming in pain. Her mother rushed to his side, taking the child downstairs. Draco fought against her, pushing her off of him and scrambling to his feet. She jumped on his leg, preventing him from getting any closer. "Get off of me, _Mudblood_!" he shrieked, tugging her off of him. "He _needs _me!"

She ignored what he said, what he called her, for the time being. "Draco. Draco, listen to me! _Est magicae mortem_ is a wizard killing curse! Any magic coming close to the wizard will drain them of their life and convert it to magic! If you want Scorpius to stay alive, we have to leave him!"

He shook his head, mumbling to himself as he weakly tried getting up and retreiving his son. Hermione hated seeing him like this. He looked like a wild beast unable to do anything. A caged beast forced to watch its child suffer. Remembering she had a wand, she performed a full body-bind curse on him, turning him over so he was staring at the ceiling. His grey eyes glared at her, but it slowly lost its spark when her words registered in his mind. After a few minutes, she released the spell. Taking his arm and guiding him out of the house, careful to avoid Scorpius, Hermione explained as hest she could why Scorpius had to stay with them. They nodded, still not quite understanding the situation. Draco paused outside of the door and gave one last look at his son. Scorpius reached one tiny hand out to him, tears still rolling down his cheeks. "Pa...pa?"

He sucked in one last breath and darted out. "I will keep him safe," he told her before Disapparating.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm so ashamed...this is the shortest chapter I've got. Ah, I'm so sorry, but my mind has had writer's block, and...gah, I'm sorry. <strong>

**Anyway...the Rhododendron flower means 'beware' or 'caution'. Review please! :) (thank you so much**


	11. Euphorbia

That same night, Hermione guided Draco to his room, using a spell and to get him into more comfortable clothes without having to touch him. He lay down rigidly on his bed, his face blank. That worried her. She knelt down next to him, placing a soothing hand on his face. He leaned into it, murmuring quietly, "You smell just like him."  
>"Oh really?" she chuckled, "I always thought he smelled like you."<p>

He didn't reply, his jaw relaxing when she ran her thumb along his cheek. She frowned, holding in a sigh before standing to leave. She needed to find the cure for Scorpius and return him back to where he belonged. Pulling away, Hermione quickly retreated out of the room. "Granger," he called feebly, "We're going to save him, right?"  
>She nodded resolutely, staring back at Draco's huddled form. "Of course."<p>

The library was the first place Hermione would check out. She wouldn't try in Draco's study; those books were mainly useful (and non-useful) spells, business receipts, and wizard fiction. The main library, one she had rarely visited because of its creepy allure, would most likely provide the useful information. She plopped down on an old dusty, velvet green couch and Accio'd a few books from the Medical section. A lonely sigh escaped from her lips as she skimmed the first ten pages, stealing a glance at the next stack of books laying on the floor. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Draco slowly stretched, starting from his fingers all the way to his toes. He rolled over, opening his eyes in narrow slits at a blurry figure sitting in one of his armchairs. Hermione sat slumped in the chair, one hand supporting her face as she slept. Books lay strewn about her, one rather tall stack supporting her legs. He sat up, groaning at the pain in his back. The sound startled the young witch, her body jolting awake. She stared at him, her brown eyes filled with concern. "How'd you sleep?"<p>

He didn't answer her, swinging his legs to the other side of the bed and stumbling to his bathroom. It didn't matter how he slept right now; he shouldn't have slept at all. He splashed cold water on his face and emerged from his bathroom, wiping his face with his sleeve. "So?" he snapped. "Any news?"

"No...it's really dark magic, Malfoy," she replied steadily, her gaze never leaving the book. "I think we should get help."

He growled, biting his tongue from what he was about to say. 'Malfoys don't need help'. Right now, he would gladly accept any that would save his son's life, Malfoy pride be damned. "Fine. Tell Potter."

He unbuttoned his shirt in front of her without hesitation and threw on a dark grey t-shirt, as well as a black sweater. "I'm going out."

Hermione was slightly red in the face, but he didn't pay too much attention to that. "Where are you going?" she squeaked. He didn't bother looking back. "Out," he repeated firmly.

* * *

><p>Hermione emerged from the flickering green flames and dusted herself off. "Harry-"<p>

She froze, turning bright red after interrupting a snogging session between Martin and a beautiful pale woman she assumed was Astoria. The woman wiped her lover's mouth, slightly embarrassed from being walked in on. Hermione stuttered, "I-I...Erm...Sorry."

Martin looked amused, his arm snaking around his wife's slender waist. "Mr. and Mrs. Potter are not in right now, and the children are still sleeping. Is something the matter?"

Hermione debated whether if it was her place to tell Martin about Scorpius or not. She gestured for him to join her in the kitchen, her eyes showing how anxious she was. Martin noticed, bidding his wife goodbye with a chaste kiss on the forehead and followed her. Once they were sure Astoria wouldn't overhear, she held up with trembling hands the book she brought. "Scorpius... He's been cast this spell...and I-I can't find the cure."

Martin snatched the book from her, pacing around the room as he skimmed the short paragraph about Est magicae mortem. His blue eyes were filled with concern, gently taking her hand. "Madame, how can I help? How did this happen?"

Hermione told him a brief summary of all that happened just the day before, tears brimming around her eyes when she remembered the look on Draco's face. "We need to find all we can about this... And we need to continue searching for the Reapers. You and me. Malfoy isn't capable right now."

Martin nodded in understanding just as Ginny and Harry burst through their front door and offered Astoria a scone. She politely declined, gesturing to the kitchen. "Miss Granger is expecting you."

Harry entered, his face suddenly grave, Ginny still linked on his arm. She offered a warm smile in Hermione's direction, but the latter witch had no time to return it. "Harry...The Reapers got Scorpius."

She explained to them quickly, with less details, begging them to help her find the cure. Ginny nodded bravely. "I'll go to Hogwarts and see..."

Hermione shook her head sadly. "I asked Professor Hale. He said he was already on it, so there's no point in going."

"I think we should tell Astoria," Harry suggested quietly. That never really was an option she wanted to consider. Sure, she never even mentioned her before in any conversation held with Draco, but...they never contacted each other. Well, not that she was aware. She, or he, had to have done something wrong. She shook her head. There was no reason not to tell her. "I-I'll tell her."

Hermione sat down in one of the plush chairs across from the pureblooded witch, playing with the hem of her fiery red sweater. Astoria smiled placidly at her. "What do you wish to tell me, Miss Granger?"

"Well..." she paused, decided whether it'd be proper to call her 'Astoria' or 'Mrs. Doucet'. Astoria smoothed her dark grey robes, and as though she read her thoughts, said, "Mrs. Doucet, if you may."

"Right," Hermione nodded, fidgeting under Astoria's cool stare. Astoria wasn't rude or sending any snide remarks in her direction, but she wasn't offering any warmth either. Hermione wondered what Martin or Draco saw in her. "Mrs. Doucet, last night, Malfoy and I went to Germany for a...special task."

"I am well aware of who you're dealing with," Astoria announced coolly, her dark eyes expressionless. "The Reapers. Martin and I are the ones that helped you, so I don't understand why you're trying to keep this from me."

"Sorry," she muttered. "Anyway, Scorpius-"

"Miss Granger. Pardon my intrusion, but I would like you to know that I have no intention of meddling with Mr. Malfoy's son's affairs."

"But he's your son too!" she yelled back, bolting up on her feet. Astoria narrowed her eyes, slowly rising from her seat. "He is not my son."

"What's wrong with you? You gave birth to him! You're his mother-"

Astoria's lip twitched, taking a step toward her. "Scorpius was my ticket to freedom. Nothing more. Nothing less."

Hermione took another step toward her, matching her icy glare with one of her own. "You heartless, conniving-"

"I'd be careful with your words if I were you," she warned, her tone showing her seething anger. Hermione didn't care at all. Scorpius was the sweetest child, and seeing this woman dismiss her own flesh and blood so easily infuriated her. "Listen here, Astoria," she hissed, "I swear on Godric's grave that I-"

"Granger. Come on," a familiar voice called from the kitchen. Hermione's gaze switched to the blond standing staunchly in the doorway, fists clenched by his sides. His grey eyes were boring holes straight at her, lip curled back in sheer anger. Hermione would've shuddered, but her own anger prevented her from showing any signs of weakness. When she didn't even budge, Draco hissed again, "Granger..."

Throwing Astoria the nastiest look she could muster, she made her way to Draco's side. "Scorpius' is dying, you cold-blooded snake."

She pulled Draco along to the back door, ignoring the looks she received from the others. Draco wrenched his arm away from her grip angrily. "What do you mean he's dying?"

"He might be...I don't know..." she trailed off, purposely avoiding his gaze. He growled, his fingers edging toward his wand. He stared into her eyes, his mask breaking for a split second. Her brown eyes softened, squeezing his hand and continued in a low voice, "He'll be fine. I promise."

She couldn't bring herself to tell him that it was true, that Scorpius was really slowly dying. His own body already filled with magic, converting his life into even more magic power. If they didn't act soon, he would eventually destroy himself. Hermione would have told him, if he didn't smile at her. That smile, so trusting and genuine...she couldn't do it. She smiled back, disapparating away.

* * *

><p>Dinner was silent that night, the both of them all too aware of Scorpius' disappearance. Draco barely touched his food, much to the elf's hidden dismay, and the musician sat with his violin, clearly stumped as to why Mr. Malfoy hadn't suggested a tune. After dinner, Hermione called her parents with her cellphone and asked about Scorpius. He had come down with a minor fever, they said, and he hadn't stopped crying. Hermione held back tears; Draco couldn't know. The younger Malfoy had more magic than she thought. Instructing her parents to keep the boy's teddy bear away, she hurriedly dialed Harry and asked if they had any progress. "Sorry, 'Mione. Nothing yet," he apologized, his voice low on the phone.<p>

"Okay," she simply replied before hanging up. Draco looked up from one of the medical spell books he was reading. "Who was that?"

"Harry," she said nonchalantly, folding her book page and picking up the next one in search of the spell. He simply nodded and returned to reading, muttering, "This is the only moment I wish I were a damn Hufflepuff."

The clock struck one o' clock in the morning, its lonely tune resonating in the hall outside the study. Hermione stretched, setting the book down. Draco had fallen asleep while reading, his head resting on the massive pages in front of him. Hermione shook him awake, yawning. He groaned and sat up. "What time is it?"

"One," she replied, helping him up. "Now get to bed."

"But..."

"C'mon, Malfoy."

She slung his arm around her shoulder and led him to his bed. He flopped down on his bed, not even bothering to change. Hermione pulled out her wand to put on fresh pajamas, but he glared at her. "Don't even think about it. Those rags you put on me last night were itchy and hot."

She simply stared at him. Her act of kindness was insulted? She held in a sharp retort, replying flatly, "And the clothes you're wearing are any better?"

He peeled off his t-shirt and flopped back down. "Yes."

Hermione turned on her heel without another word, ignoring the blush that heated up her face. _Men shouldn't do that!_ she fumed as she got ready for bed. _Not even if they have a fit body._

* * *

><p>"Draco? Draco...Draco, love, wake up," a familiar voice beckoned him to open his eyes. A soft hand caressed his face, the other shaking his shoulder tenderly. He groaned, stifling a yawn. "Mother?"<p>

Narcissa smiled hesitantly. "Your father needs to talk to you."

"No," he said harshly, gently moving her aside so he could use the restroom. He sauntered to the restroom and washed his face, wiping it off with the towel folded nearby. "Mu-"

Narcissa yelled, "_Stupefy_!"

His eyes widened as he dashed back to his room, Hermione lay crumpled on the floor, completely unconscious. Narcissa stood above her, panting slightly, her eyes wide and wand trained on the Hermione. She stared right back into her own son's eyes. "Draco."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ah, long chapter so I split it in two. Then I'm revising the next part so...yeah. Review for the healing of Scorpius Malfoy!**

**A/N: Euphorbia is a weird name, I know. But it symbolizes persistence, and everyone here has some of it. **


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Harry Potter, Mystery, Romance