The night, already thick with the weight of unspoken emotions, was shattered by a rapping on the door. An insistent, almost frantic rhythm that jolted them from a sleep laced with worry. He stirred first, blinking away the remnants of dreams and reaching for his wand, a reflex honed during years of war. The rapping came again, louder this time, a discordant note in the quiet symphony of the night.
With a questioning glance at her, he rose, his hand hovering over his wand as he crept towards the door. She followed, her own wand clutched tightly in her hand.
"Who could it be at this unholy hour?" she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.
He shook his head, a sliver of apprehension tightening his features. "Stay behind me, love," he murmured, his voice low and steady despite the disquiet gnawing at his gut.
He cracked the door open with a sliver, revealing a sight that both surprised and relieved him. Pansy, Blaise and Theo stood on the doorstep, their faces etched with concern in the pale moonlight spilling from the doorway.
Pansy, ever the drama queen, rolled her eyes dramatically, a hint of amusement flickering in her gaze. "Merlin's saggy ball sack, you two look like you've seen a boggart."
Blaise chuckled, his usual sardonic air tinged with genuine worry. "Sorry to rouse you from your beauty sleep, but we figured it was high time for a little reunion, wouldn't you say?"
Theo, the quiet observer of the group, surprised them both with a wide grin. "We wouldn't want you lovebirds to have all the fun recovering, now would we?"
Relief washed over him, a wave so powerful it threatened to steal the breath from his lungs. He sighed, a mixture of exasperation and gratitude colouring his voice. "Come in, come in," he said, ushering them inside. "But next time, try knocking at a decent hour, shall we?"
A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, the first genuine one in days. Stepping aside to let them in, she couldn't help but ask, "It's good to see you all, truly. But why are you here exactly?"
Pansy shrugged, her usual bravado faltering slightly. "News travels fast, Granger," she said, her voice softer than he had ever heard it. "We heard what happened. We were worried, and... well, we wanted to offer our support, in whatever way we can."
Blaise nodded curtly, his gaze lingering on him for a moment before meeting her. "We've all been through our share of darkness," he said, his voice gruff but sincere. "And sometimes, the only way out is to face it together."
Pansy reached over and squeezed her hand. "We're here for you, no matter what. You're part of our family now."
What a lovely little traumatised family.
The pre-dawn gloom slowly surrendered to the tentative fingers of sunlight, painting the cozy cottage in a warm glow. As the conversation flowed, punctuated by bursts of laughter and clinking teacups, memories unfurled like well-worn tapestries. Stories of past pranks (some successful, some hilariously disastrous), whispered secrets shared under the cloak of invisibility, and the harrowing battles that had forged an unexpected bond – all these threads wove a tapestry of camaraderie.
Despite the darkness that had threatened to engulf them, a sense of peace settled over her. Here, in the flickering firelight and the gentle hum of their shared history, she found a haven. They were not merely survivors, but a chosen family, bound by the invisible threads of empathy and a shared journey through war and its aftermath.
With each shared laugh and murmured word, a silent vow was made. They would face the challenges ahead, together. Not as individuals burdened by their past, but as a united front, their strength amplified by the unwavering support they offered each other. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows across the floor, she knew, with a certainty that warmed her from the inside out, that they would emerge from the darkness, a little stronger, a little braver, and forever bound by the unyielding ties of friendship.
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Life settled into a rhythm that felt both familiar and refreshingly new. The idyllic countryside soothed the raw edges of their souls, the quiet punctuated only by the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves. The shadows of their past still lingered, phantoms at the edges of their dreams, but they faced them with a newfound courage. Gone were the days of silent suffering; therapy sessions became a safe haven where they could unpack the burdens they carried, a shared language blossoming between them as they learned to communicate the depths of their pain.
Yet, these sessions weren't solely focused on darkness. Laughter often filled the air as they explored lighter memories, rediscovering the simple joys that had been eclipsed by the war.
Slowly, tentative smiles returned, genuine and unburdened. They began to weave a new tapestry of life, one thread at a time. Evenings were spent curled up by the fireplace, a book shared between them, the crackling flames casting a warm glow on their faces. Simple gestures, like a cup of tea brought wordlessly to her or a stray strand of hair tucked behind her ear by Draco, spoke volumes of their newfound closeness.
The road to healing stretched long and winding before them, marked by both setbacks and triumphs. But with each step they took, hand in hand, a sliver of the past's hold loosened. They were learning to navigate this new landscape together, their love a beacon that guided them through the storm. Life, once a battlefield, was becoming a haven, and in the quiet beauty of their cottage, they were finally starting to feel like home.
Life is like a pipe, and she flowed through like a tiny knut rolling up the walls inside.
They found solace in their shared commitment to healing. Their therapist, a kind but firm witch named Healer O'Connor, guided them through the labyrinth of their pain. Each session, they unearthed buried emotions, confronting their fears and insecurities with a newfound sense of courage.
Therapy sessions became a crucible where their pasts were laid bare. Gone were the days of guarded glances and unspoken accusations. Now, a raw honesty thrummed in the air as they delved into the murky depths of their experiences.
Draco, his voice laced with a vulnerability he'd never shown before, spoke of the suffocating grip of his family legacy, the fear that had always simmered beneath the surface. He confessed to the constant pressure to conform, the gnawing guilt for his past choices, and the shame of his family's darkness that clung to him like a shroud.
Hermione, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, mirrored his honesty. The trauma of the war, the constant fear for her friends and family, all came pouring out. She spoke of the nightmares that plagued her sleep, the burden of her choices, and the crippling guilt that gnawed at her for taking a life, even Lucius Malfoy's.
As they spoke, a sense of catharsis washed over them. Words that had festered unspoken for years finally found release, their pain acknowledged not just by the therapist but by each other. In that shared vulnerability, a connection bloomed, stronger and deeper than any they had known before. The walls they had built, brick by defensive brick, began to crumble, replaced by a fragile trust built on the foundation of their shared honesty. It wasn't a smooth road, there were tears, anger, and moments of doubt, but with each raw confession, they chipped away at the barriers that had kept them apart. Slowly, painfully, they were learning to see each other not through the distorted lens of their past, but for the people they truly were, flaws and all.
Their individual sessions were equally transformative. He delved into the complexities of his relationship with his parents, understanding how it had shaped him. She explored her own identity, grappling with the morality of her actions and the path she wanted to forge moving forward.
Nobody's son and nobody's daughter.
Even amidst the emotional turmoil of therapy sessions, their love found a way to blossom. Draco, once guarded and stoic, surprised her with breakfast in bed, a simple gesture that spoke volumes of his newfound tenderness. Hermione, in turn, left little notes tucked within his potions journals, words of encouragement and affirmations that chased away the shadows of his past.
They sought solace in the quiet beauty of the countryside. Long walks hand-in-hand became a ritual, a shared silence more comforting than any conversation. As they meandered through sun-dappled meadows or crisp autumn forests, a sense of peace settled over them. It was in these moments, surrounded by nature's gentle embrace, that they rediscovered the simple joys that had been lost during the war.
Their love, tested by the fires of their past, emerged stronger. It wasn't a love devoid of challenges – arguments flared, tears were shed, and old insecurities sometimes resurfaced. But through it all, their determination to heal and grow together remained unwavering. With each shared vulnerability, each act of kindness, and each moment of quiet understanding, their love deepened, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the transformative power of forgiveness.
Their friends became a warm, familiar melody woven into the fabric of their healing. Pansy, Blaise, and Theo were no longer just classmates, but a chosen family who understood the shadows they both carried. Visits were filled with laughter, a welcome counterpoint to the emotional intensity of therapy sessions.
They reminisce about Hogwarts, their voices laced with a bittersweet nostalgia, but also with a newfound appreciation for the bond forged in shared experiences. Silly pranks from their youth were retold, their former animosity replaced by a camaraderie born from facing a darker enemy together. New memories were also made – evenings spent huddled around the fireplace, sharing stories and dreams for the future. As they sipped their steaming mugs of tea, a comfortable silence would sometimes settle, a silent understanding passing between them that spoke volumes. These visits were a reminder that they weren't alone on this path, and that even the darkest moments could be illuminated by the unwavering light of friendship.
One evening, as they sat by the fireplace in their cottage, she turned to him, her eyes reflecting the flickering flames. "I never thought we'd come this far," she said softly. "But I'm grateful we did."
He smiled, squeezing her hand gently. "Me too, my love. Me too."
They knew the road ahead would not always be easy, but they were ready to face it together, stronger and more united than ever before.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A crisp autumn breeze swirled fallen leaves around their ankles as they approached Nott Manor. The grand estate, nestled comfortably in the rolling green countryside, seemed to exude warmth despite the cool air. Blooming roses, their fragrance sweet and heady, painted vibrant splashes of colour against the backdrop of the manor's grey stone. A rare moment of tranquillity settled over them, a welcome respite from the whirlwind of emotions that had dominated their lives recently.
Of course, both of them were impeccably dressed.
Gone were the days of threadbare robes and makeshift uniforms – she sported a chic Valentino tailored pantsuit, a perfect balance of elegance and practicality. Draco, ever the gentleman, mirrored her style with a crisp Valentino suit, the tailored lines accentuating his broad shoulders.
Inside, the manor hummed with a comforting bustle. Laughter and warm light emanated from the living room, beckoning them forward. Luna, ethereal in a flowing white dress that seemed to shimmer with the afternoon sunlight, stood waiting at the door. Her ever-present smile widened as she spotted them, her blonde hair cascading down in a halo of gentle curls. "Mimi! Draco!" she exclaimed, her voice a melody of pure joy. "So glad you could make it!"
Draco, his usual stoicism momentarily melting away at Luna's infectious enthusiasm, offered a curt nod. "Thank you, Luna," he said, his voice a low rumble. "We wouldn't miss it for the world. Congratulations again." He turned to Theo, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, and extended a hand in greeting. "Theo."
Theo's grin widened even further, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Draco! About time you showed up. We were starting to think you two got lost in the maze." He grasped his handshake firmly, the warmth of their camaraderie evident despite the years that had passed. "Thanks, mate. We're truly happy you could both make it. Come on in, the party's waiting!"
The grand hall, once a space that might have felt intimidatingly vast, now radiated a welcoming ambiance. Forest-coloured banners, adorned with glittering silver creatures that resembled Nifflers, hung from the rafters. Balloons, in shades of emerald and gold, bobbed playfully in the gentle breeze that drifted through the open windows. The air buzzed with a low hum of conversation and laughter, a symphony of joy that warmed her from the inside out.
Her keen eye, ever the observer, noted the handmade decorations that festooned the room – intricate paper owls perched on mantelpieces, miniature mandrake cakes nestled amongst bowls of sugared plums.
Every detail spoke of the love and care poured into the celebration. As they entered further, she spotted Blaise and Pansy deep in conversation near a table overflowing with brightly wrapped gifts. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and she gave a small wave in their direction.
"Look at all of this," she whispered to him, her voice tinged with awe as her eyes swept over the room. "It's truly magical."
A warmth bloomed in his chest, mirroring the festive spirit that filled the hall. "Indeed," he agreed, his lips curving into a genuine smile. "Luna's outdone herself. The decorations are quite… whimsical."
Luna, ever the gracious hostess, led them towards a cosy corner where a small group had gathered. Seated on a plush armchair was Neville, his face lit with a radiant joy as he cradled a sleeping baby in his arms.
Nestled in a miniature, hand-stitched crib, the tiny form of Lysander seemed peacefully oblivious to the excitement surrounding him. As they approached, Neville looked up, his smile widening as he recognized them.
"Hermione, Draco! So glad you could make it," he exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement. His gaze then shifted to the bundle in his arms. "This little one here seems to be saving all his energy for the real celebrations."
Even in slumber, a faint resemblance to both Luna and Theo was evident. He possessed Luna's delicate features and the wispy blonde hair, but the smattering of freckles dusting his nose was a clear nod to Theo's heritage. A chorus of soft coos and hushed whispers filled the air as the group fawned over the sleeping child.
"Isn't he just perfect?" Pansy said warmly nodding towards the sleeping baby.
"He really is," she agreed softly, her heart melting at the sight of the tiny baby. "Congratulations, Luna and to you too Theo."
"Thank you," Luna replied, her smile widening. "He's brought so much light into our lives."
Lysander Nott. The most beautiful baby boy that he has ever seen.
Holding Lysander felt like a foreign sensation. The tiny, fragile life cradled in his arms triggered something deep within him, a protective instinct he hadn't known existed. He'd always been the one in control, the one who gave orders. Now, he was utterly helpless, his world reduced to the soft rise and fall of an infant's chest.
A wave of longing washed over him. This was what it felt like to be a father. A surge of protectiveness, a fierce desire to shield this innocent being from the world's harshness. It was a feeling he'd never allowed himself to entertain. The Malfoy name was synonymous with power and control, not vulnerability and softness.
Yet, as he gazed into the baby's peaceful face, he found a sense of peace he hadn't experienced in years. It was as if a part of him, long dormant, had awakened. A part that yearned for something more than power and ambition. A part that craved connection and love.
He glanced at her, who was watching him with a soft, understanding look. He saw in her eyes a reflection of his own thoughts, a silent acknowledgment of the profound impact this moment had on them both.
When will they have children soon? Hermione would look astonishing with her belly swollen, carrying their heir. Oh Merlin he'd worship that woman's cunt every day.
As the afternoon unfolded, they mingled with the guests, sharing stories and laughter. He found himself engaged in a conversation with Theo and Blaise about parenting, while she caught up with Luna and Pansy about their latest life updates.
The sterile scent of the hospital mingled with the faint, sweet aroma of baby powder as Hermione watched him cradle Lysander. His calloused hands, usually wielding a wand with practised ease, now held the fragile infant with surprising gentleness. A smile, soft and unfamiliar, curved his lips, transforming his usually stoic face.
A warmth spread through her as she watched he cradle Lysander. The sight was both heartwarming and unsettling. There was a tenderness in his expression that she hadn't seen often, a vulnerability that made her heart ache with a strange longing.
She'd always been the practical one, the planner. Children had never been a conscious part of her future. But seeing him with the baby, a protective instinct stirred within her, a deep-seated desire to nurture and protect. It was a foreign sensation, one that both excited and terrified her.
Part of her wondered if this was a glimpse into a possible future, a future where they had a child of their own. The image was both beautiful and daunting. She loved him more than she could say, but the idea of motherhood was a vast, unexplored territory.
A pang of guilt washed over her as she realised she was comparing herself to Luna, a woman who seemed effortlessly maternal. She pushed the thought away. Everyone's path was different. Her journey with him was still unfolding, and there was no rush.
For now, she would cherish this moment, this glimpse into a potential future. And she would continue to build their love, one day at a time.
Seeing Draco with a baby made her embarrassingly wet.
Later, as the sun began to set and the guests started to leave, she stood with Luna by the window, watching the golden hues of twilight spread across the sky. "Thank you for inviting us, babe. This was really wonderful," she said sincerely.
Luna smiled warmly. "I'm glad you could be here, Mimi.
He approached them, his hand resting lightly on her waist. "Ready to head back?" he asked gently.
She nodded, feeling a sense of contentment settle over her. "Yes, let's go home dearie."
As they bid farewell to Luna and Theo, Hermione couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the friends who had become like family.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As soon as they were inside the cottage, he looked almost feral as he took her in. His eyes dragged across her breasts, wandering down her hips and thighs. They never left her as he undid the first few buttons of his shirt, removed his cufflinks, and rolled his sleeves up to his forearms.
Her heart thumped in her chest. She had been eyeing him all night, but she hadn't thought he'd noticed. She licked her lips nervously, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks.
"On your knees." His voice was ice cold, sending shivers down her spine.
She hesitated for a moment, but the fire in his gaze made her comply. She sank to her knees on the plush carpet, looking up at him through her lashes.
"Don't you think I didn't notice the way you looked at me all night, doll." He closed the distance between them, towering over her. "Getting your knickers wet just because I was holding a baby."
She gasped as he reached down, grasping her chin roughly. He forced her to look at him, his eyes burning with desire.
"Draco please, I was such a good girl for you." She pleaded.
She looked like a goddess on her knees for him.
He slowly pulled out his cock putting it on the tip of her tongue. "Show me how good of a girl you can be."
"Open your mouth, love," he said,
She took him deeper into her mouth, her lips and tongue working in tandem to pleasure him. She could feel him throbbing against her tongue, and she knew he was close. She quickened her pace, her head bobbing up and down on his cock.She closed her eyes, savouring the taste of him. He groaned with pleasure.
"That's it, love," he said, his fingers tangled in her hair. "You're such a good girl."
She moaned around his cock, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. He couldn't believe how good it felt to have her mouth on him, to hear her moan of pleasure.
"Fuck, doll. "You're going to make me cum."
She looked up at him, her eyes shining with desire. She nodded, her mouth still wrapped around him. He groaned as he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge.
"Yes, sweetheart," she said, her voice muffled by his cock. "Come for me please, I need to feel you."
With a final thrust, he felt himself cum. She swallowed every drop like a good girl that she was, her eyes never leaving his.
"Fuuuck, that was absolutely mind-blowing doll," he said, his legs shaking.
She smiled up at him.
What a little whore. His little whore. His little wife. His life. His guiding light.
He helped her to her feet, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. He could taste himself on her lips, and it only made him want her more.
"I want you, doll," he said, his hands roaming over her body. "I want to make you feel good."
He reached up and cupped her breast, his thumb brushing against her hard nipple. She moaned, her back arching as she pressed herself against him.
He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck. He nibbled on her earlobe, his hands continuing to explore her body. He reached behind her and unclasped her bra, freeing her breasts.
He leaned down, his mouth closing around her nipple. He sucked and pulled, his tongue swirling around the hard bud. She whispered, her fingers threading through his hair as she held him close.
"Yes, Draco," she said, her voice breathless. "I want you so bad, please put your mouth on me."
He wasted no time, lifting her up and carrying her to the bedroom. He laid her down on the bed, his eyes raking over her body.
"You're stunningly beautiful," he said, his voice filled with reverence.
She blushed at the compliment, her heart racing with anticipation. She watched as him stripped off his clothes, revealing his muscular body.
"Fuck, you're fit, I see you every day and it's never enough." She said, her eyes drinking in the sight of him.
He grinned, crawling onto the bed between her legs. He leaned down, capturing her nipple in his mouth. She moaned as he sucked and nibbled, her hands tangled in his hair.
"Yes, sweetheart, please" she said, her hips grinding against him.
He moved lower, his tongue tracing a path down her stomach. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her knickers, pulling them down her legs.
"Hmmm. Such a pretty cunt," he said, his eyes locked on her sex.
She blushed again, she was still not used to the attention, her hips lifting off the bed. He took the invitation, his tongue swiping through her folds. He started by licking her clit, slowly and deliberately. She let out a soft gasp, her hips bucking towards him. He continued to lick and suck on her clit, before sliding his tongue inside of her. She tasted sweet and musky, and he couldn't get enough. She moaned as he licked and sucked, her hands gripping the sheets.
"Oh, Draco," she said, her hips bucking.
He slid a finger inside of her, feeling her walls contract around him. He added a second finger, fucking her gently as he continued to lick and suck on her clit. Her breathing became shallow and quick, her hips moving in time with his fingers. She moaned louder, her back arching off the bed.
"Yes, yes, yes," she said, her muscles clenching around his finger.
He could feel her getting closer and closer to the edge. He quickened his pace, his fingers and tongue working in tandem.
He climbed over her, positioning himself between her legs.
"When you come, it's going to be around my cock."
He guided his cock to her entrance, and then slowly pushed inside her.
She moaned as he filled her, her cunt stretching to accommodate his size. He started to move, his hips thrusting in a slow, steady rhythm.
"Oh, fuck," she meowled louder than she expected, her hands gripping the sheets.
He leaned down, his lips finding hers in a passionate kiss. Their tongues danced together as their bodies moved in unison.
"You feel so good my love," he said, breaking the kiss.
"So do you," she replied, her voice filled with bliss.
He quickened his pace, his hips thrusting harder and faster. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge again.
"Yes, yes, yes," she moaned, her voice trembling with pleasure.
He could feel her cunt fluttering around his cock, and he knew she was close. He reached down, his fingers finding her clit. He started to massage her little nub, his fingers moving in slow, circular motions.
Her moan filled the room, her body trembling with pleasure. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, her muscles tensing and releasing.
"Come for me, doll," he said, his voice low and commanding.
His wish was a command, her body convulsed with pleasure as she came hard. She could feel something snapped in her, all of a sudden a warm liquid coating his cock.
"Oh, fuck, tha..that is the hottest thing that I ever seen." he moaned, his hips thrusting harder and faster.
He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. He could feel his balls tightening, and he knew he was close.
"I'm going to fill you up, doll," he said, his voice filled with desire.
"Come inside me, please" her voice was barely above a whisper.
He did as he was told, his cock throbbing as he filled her cunt with his seed. He collapsed on top of her, his body slick with sweat.
"Well, that was new," he said, her voice filled with satisfaction.
"Yes, it was," she replied, his voice drifting off to a shy laughter.
In the aftermath of their passion, they lay entwined, the echo of their climax a fading thrum beneath their skin. Their breaths mingled in the quiet room, a slow and steady rhythm that mirrored the calming beat of their hearts. Gradually, exhaustion draped itself over them, a welcome weight that pressed their bodies closer. Sated and drifting, they surrendered to sleep, a comfortable silence the only lullaby needed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The soft glow of sunrise striped across her face, a gentle smile gracing her lips as she snuggled deeper into his side. Sleep's husk lingered in her voice as she murmured, "Draco, I think it's time for a visit to my parents. Long overdue."
The mention of her parents stirred a memory of Luna and Theo, their playful newborn nestled between them. A pang of longing tugged at her heart. Draco, sensing the shift in her mood, turned to face her, his concern etching lines on his forehead.
His voice softened with concern. "Are you sure, love? We discussed this, and things haven't exactly been..." He trailed off, searching for a delicate way to phrase it.
"Easy," she finished for him, a flicker of sadness in her eyes. "Yes, I know. But they are my family, Draco. And I can't keep avoiding them."
"We'll go together," he offered, his voice firm with reassurance. "And remember, I'm by your side, always."
Her voice trembled slightly. "Draco, "I need to tell you why I wiped my parents' memories. It's something that's caused me so much pain, and I want you to understand."
His response was swift, his hand enveloping hers in a silent promise of support. "Whenever you're ready, love. I'm all ears."
"Draco," she started softly,
He squeezed her hand gently, his expression full of concern and love. "I'm here, darling. Take your time."
She nodded, her voice tinged with emotion as she continued. "During the war, when everything was over, I realised that I couldn't leave my parents unprotected. They knew nothing about the magical world war. Voldemort or the Death Eater could've been out there, seeking revenge."
His grip on her hand tightened slightly, understanding dawning on his face. "You did it to protect them, love." he murmured.
She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "Yes, I did. I wanted to keep them safe, so I erased their memories of me, all of me, and sent them to Australia. I made them forget they ever had a daughter."
His arms tightened around her, his voice a soothing balm. "It must have been so hard for you," he murmured.
Tears welled up in her eyes, brimming over like a cup overfilled. "It was the most terrible thing," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed sobs. "I couldn't even say goodbye. They don't remember me, love. Not a single Christmas, not a birthday, not a single moment we shared. I went back to strangers, a ghost in their own home. It took a year, a year of pretending, of their confused smiles and wary glances, before they finally agreed to see a healer. My heart broke with every unanswered question, every blank look. And in their forgetting, Draco, I lost a part of myself too. A part that isn't coming back." Her voice hitched, choked by a sob that wracked her entire body.
He held her even closer, his heart clenching at the shattered pieces of her voice. "You did what you thought was best, love," he said fiercely, his voice thick with empathy. "You protected them. That's what matters."
She nodded, clinging to him like a lifeline. A shuddering breath escaped her lips. "I know," she whispered, the words laced with a deep, aching loneliness, "but knowing doesn't mend a broken heart, dearie. Does it ever come back, that part of you that gets lost with the people who forget you?"
The ache in her voice mirrored the hollowness in her eyes. "Dad's alright," she mumbled, tracing a pattern on his arm. "But mum... she's a stranger on the phone, polite, distant. 'How are you, dear?' like they're asking about the weather. No warmth, Draco. No 'I love you,' not ever again." Her voice cracked, a single tear escaping. "Just a few forced calls a month, a reminder of what I've lost." A cell phone, she said, a strange, cold replacement for the embrace she craved. "We haven't even seen each other since the wedding."
That must have been like stepping into all nine circles of Hell at once.
She nestled into him, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for listening, my love. You mean everything to me." His arms tightened around her, his heart swelling with a fierce protectiveness. "Always, love," he murmured. The unspoken vow hung heavy in the air, a promise of unwavering support.
Like Demeter and Persephone. Searching for her parents felt like travelling to hell, just to find them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The following morning, tension crackled in the air as they settled into her parents' cosy living room. Unfamiliarity hung heavy, punctuated by unspoken words and awkward silences.
He cleared his throat, the sound harsh in the suffocating silence. "Mr. and Mrs. Granger," he began, his voice strained, "thank you for having us. It's... a pleasure to meet you both." His eyes darted between them, searching for a flicker of warmth that wasn't there. David's curt nod and Jane's pursed lips offered little comfort.
David nodded stiffly, his gaze flickering between them. "Likewise, I suppose."
She fidgeted in her seat, her voice strained. "Dad, I know this is a lot to process. But him and I, we..." she hesitated, searching for the right words, "we found something unexpected together. It wasn't easy for either of us, trust me."
Her mother's sigh held a wealth of unspoken emotions.
"Hermione, baby," she began gently, "it's not just about Draco. It's about everything that's happened. All the secrecy, the danger you were constantly in..."
He nodded solemnly, his hands clasped tightly together. "I understand, Mrs. Granger. And I'm sorry for everything that happened in the past. But I promise you, I love your daughter more than anything. And I will do everything in my power to make her happy."
Jane looked at him searchingly, as if trying to gauge the sincerity in his eyes. "I want to believe that, Draco. I truly do. But I need time."
He nodded again, swallowing hard. "I understand. I'll give you all the time you need."
David cleared his throat, finally breaking his silence. "So... how did you two meet, exactly?"
She glanced at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's a bit of a long story, Dad."
He chuckled softly, his eyes flickering fondly toward her. "We didn't exactly get off on the right foot. But over time, we... We found common ground. And then... things just fell into place."
David raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Common ground, you say? Care to elaborate?"
She hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "It's... complicated. But he has been there for me in ways that no one else has. He's supported me, challenged me, and... loved me, despite everything."
His expression turned earnest. "Mrs. Granger," he began, his voice measured, "Hermione possesses an intellect and fortitude that surpasses anyone I've encountered. Her unwavering spirit throughout the war was a source of inspiration to many. To have her by my side is a privilege I cherish every day."
Jane sighed softly, her expression softening slightly. "Hermione, baby... do you truly believe that Draco underwent metamorphosis?"
She nodded earnestly, her eyes shining with conviction. "Yes, Mum. I do. He's not the person he was in school. He's grown, matured... He's a good man."
He squeezedher hand gently, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I'm trying to be, Mrs. Granger. For her sake."
Silence settled over the room once more, but this time, it felt less heavy, more contemplative. The tension had eased, if only slightly.
Her father finally spoke, his voice thoughtful. "Well, I suppose we'll have to see how things go. But I want you to know, baby... we believe in you. And we want what's best for you."
She nodded gratefully, tears welling in her eyes. "I know, Dad. Thank you."
He cast a discreet glance at the ornately carved clock on the mantelpiece. "Mr. and Mrs. Granger," he interjected, his voice measured, "it wouldn't be amiss to grant you both some space for reflection. The revelations we've presented are undoubtedly...nuanced. We wouldn't want to impose upon your capacity for rational consideration."
Jane nodded, her gaze softening. "That might be best. But please know, both of you... you're welcome here anytime."
She stood up, wiping away her tears. "Thank you, Mum,Dad"
He followed suit, giving a respectful nod. "Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Granger."
As they walked to the door, she couldn't help but feel a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, her parents would come to accept him, and they could finally be a family.
They apparated back to their penthouse, the visit to her parents' home still fresh in their minds. They settled into the living room, she perching nervously on the edge of the sofa while he poured them each a glass of wine.
He handed Hermione her glass, his eyes searching hers. "Are you okay darling?" he asked softly.
She nodded, taking a sip of her wine. "Yeah, I'm just... processing, I guess."
He sat beside her, their knees brushing. "It was... a lot," he admitted, swirling the wine in his glass. "Your parents... they seemed wary."
"Yeah," she murmured. "They haven't quite forgiven me for everything, I think."
He nodded in understanding. "I can see that. It's hard for them to understand why you did what you did."
She sighed. "I tried to explain, but it's difficult."
He reached out, taking her hand in his. "They'll come around, love. It'll just take time."
"I hope so," she replied softly. "I miss them. I want them to be a part of our lives."
He squeezed her hand gently. "They will be. We just need to give it time."
They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside their window. she leaned against his shoulder, finding comfort in his presence.
"We'll figure it out," he said finally, breaking the silence. "Together."
She nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude for the man beside her. "Together," she echoed, leaning over to kiss him gently on the lips.
Draco kissed her back, his arms wrapping around her as they settled into each other's embrace. In that moment, despite the uncertainty with her parents, she felt a sense of peace knowing that Draco was by her side.
"I love you," she whispered against his lips.
"I love you too," Draco replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "We'll get through this."
With his reassurance, she felt a flicker of hope. They had faced so much together already, and she knew they would face whatever came next, hand in hand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The fire crackled menacingly in his office, casting eerie shadows over the plush armchairs where he and Blaise sat. Blaise leaned forward, his voice a low, menacing whisper.
"Draco, I've got something on Weasley. Something big. I've always known the prick was trouble, but this...this is another level." Draco, his face a mask of icy calm, stirred his drink. "Spit it out, Blaise."
"Seems Weasley wasn't exactly Prince Charming with his past girlfriends," Blaise drawled, a venomous edge to his voice.
His hand tightened around his glass, the crystal cold against his palm. "Abusive?" His voice was low, dangerous. A heartbeat later, the glass shattered on the plush carpet, shards of crystal glittering in the firelight. He was on his feet, his face a mask of fury.
Blaise flinched at the sudden explosion, but quickly recovered. "Not exactly gentle, apparently. He is an insecure and jealous man. When he didn't get his way with his exes, he'd lock them in a room to 'teach them a lesson,'" he said, a chilling coldness creeping into his voice.
His face contorted into a mask of rage. The crystal glass shattered against the plush rug, shards glinting in the firelight like venomous eyes. His voice, low and dangerous, echoed in the room. "Abusive? You're saying the Weasel was abusive?"
Blaise nodded grimly, his eyes locked with his. "And not just physically. Mental torment, isolation, gaslighting. The works." He paused, his expression hardening. "And the worst part? He bragged about it. Said it kept them in line."
His fury was a tangible force, filling the room. His hands clenched into fists, the veins in his neck throbbing. "Hermione..." His voice was a mere whisper, but the threat it carried was clear.
The room fell silent, thick with a tension that crackled like the dying embers in the fireplace. His face contorted with a mix of fury, betrayal, and a flicker of something that might have been fear. His wife. Locked in a room by the very man he'd once considered a friend. The revelation left a bitter taste in his mouth, a poisonous stew of emotions threatening to boil over.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next weekend, they found themselves at the enchanting garden of Parkinson Manor, where Neville and Pansy were about to exchange vows. The manor was adorned with flowers in every colour imaginable, and the summer sun cast a warm glow over the ceremony.
Sunlight dripped like honey through the canopy of wisteria that adorned the Parkinson Manor gardens. The air buzzed with a joyous hum as vibrantly coloured flowers, their fragrance intoxicating, heralded the upcoming ceremony. They joined the throng of guests, anticipation for Neville and Pansy's union shimmering in the atmosphere.
Adorned in a flowing lavender Valentino gown that cascaded around her like wisteria blossoms, Hermione radiated elegance. The dress perfectly complemented her warm hair, and a subtle lavender shimmer echoed in his bespoke suit, hinting at their coordinated arrival. As they mingled amongst the well-wishers, whispers of admiration followed her, while his presence exuded a quiet confidence that belied the turbulent emotions swirling beneath the surface.
The melody announcing the ceremony swelled, casting a hush over the vibrant crowd. They found their seats together, their movements mirroring an unspoken practised ease. Neville, a nervous flutter in his usually stoic demeanour, stood expectantly at the altar, attired in his dress robes. All eyes turned towards the entrance as Pansy, resplendent in an emerald gown that shimmered with every step, began her walk down the aisle. Her posture exuded a quiet grace that contrasted beautifully with the nervous energy radiating from Neville.
As the vows were exchanged, her gaze drifted towards Draco. His expression, usually guarded, was softened by the weight of the ceremony. A tender smile played on his lips, a stark contrast to the turbulent emotions she'd glimpsed earlier. On a silent impulse, she reached for his hand, seeking comfort and offering it in return. His fingers intertwined with hers, a gentle squeeze conveying a silent message of understanding and support.
As Neville and Pansy sealed their vows with a kiss, a wave of cheers erupted from the jubilant throng. The newly married couple beamed, their joy palpable. The celebratory mood spilled over into the reception, transforming the garden into a kaleidoscope of laughter, dancing figures, and clinking glasses. Amidst the revelry, she found herself waltzing with Draco under the canopy of stars. The fairy lights cast a warm glow upon their faces, as they toasted to the newlyweds, their glasses clinking in a silent echo of unspoken promises.
As the evening deepened, a live band took the stage, their music filling the air with a vibrant energy. Couples swayed to the rhythm, their laughter mingling with the music. He led her onto the dance floor, their movements a perfect harmony of grace and passion. The weight of their unspoken worries seemed to dissipate in the rhythm of the music.
Lost in the moment, she felt a surge of happiness. This was a night of celebration, a night to forget their troubles, even if just for a few hours. His eyes held a warmth that mirrored the flickering candles, his hand a steady anchor amidst the swirling dancers. As they danced, their bodies moved as one, their souls connected in a silent conversation.
As the vibrant energy of the reception waned, they found themselves nestled in a quiet corner of the garden. The air hummed with the distant laughter of their friends, a melodic counterpoint to the quietude they shared. Glimmering fairy lights cast an enchanting glow upon their faces as she leaned into his shoulder, her voice soft.
"A beautiful day, wouldn't you say?" she murmured.
Draco hummed in agreement, his lips brushing against her forehead in a tender kiss.
"Indeed. Neville and Pansy," he began, his voice dropping to a husky timbre, "seemed to radiate pure bliss."
A smile, both hopeful and wistful, graced her lips. "They truly did. It gives me a certain…" she trailed off, searching for the right words.
"Hope?" Draco supplied, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity.
Her gaze met his, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling within. "Yes," she breathed, her voice gaining strength. "Hope for a future, ours."
A wave of tenderness washed over his face, mirrored in the way his gaze softened. He reached out, his fingers gently intertwining with hers. "Hope," he echoed, his voice husky with emotion, "more than I ever thought possible."
In the quietude of the starlit garden, enveloped by the distant echoes of revelry, they stood as one. The promise of tomorrow shimmered in the air, a silent melody woven into the symphony of the night. In that timeless moment, she felt a profound sense of belonging, a comforting awareness that their journey, fraught as it may have been, had led them precisely where they were meant to be. With a contented sigh, she leaned closer to Draco, their entwined hands a silent promise whispered beneath the canopy of stars.
"I love you," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"I love you too," she replied, her heart full.
Hand in hand, they rejoined the festivities, grateful for the love they shared and the journey they were on together.
"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."
Fuck they were so desperately in love it's sickening.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If Draco Malfoy was an enigma, then Lavender Brown was a bitch and a conundrum. Sitting next to her at brunch felt like misery. She rather be Alan Turing than sit next to that cow.
Stuck at a table for brunch with Lavender Brown, she felt a familiar simmering resentment bubble up. Draco, with all his complexities, was at least fascinating. Lavender? A walking, talking gossip rag with an inflated sense of self-importance. She would rather be deciphering ancient runes carved on a troll's backside than endure another minute of this insipid conversation.
Her eyes glazed over, pretending to be captivated by the intricate patterns on her china cup. The truth was, she'd rather be interrogating a Death Eater than endure another minute of this banal conversation.
Her mind wandered, replaying the countless hours spent in the library, the thrill of discovering ancient spells, the satisfaction of solving complex problems. Anything was preferable to this forced camaraderie. Lavender's voice, a shrill melody of gossip and superficiality, grated on her nerves like chalk on a blackboard.
A sudden, sharp pang of hunger jolted her back to reality. She forced herself to take a bite of her food, the bland taste a stark contrast to the overwhelming flavour of her irritation. Lavender, oblivious to her discomfort, continued her monologue, her voice rising and falling like a particularly annoying piece of classical music.
Lavender Brown, a human incarnation of a spoiled perfume sample, poked at her lukewarm breakfast. Every saccharine word felt dripping with condescension, a poorly veiled jab at her perceived social climb. It was a game of one-upmanship, a battle of appearances, and she was growing weary of the charade.
"Alright Granger," Lavender drawled, her perfectly manicured nails tapping a staccato rhythm on the tablecloth. "Fancy seeing you here. Still slumming it with Ministry wages, or have you Malfoy coughing up enough Galleons for caviar these days? I hear the new Auror uniforms are rather...plebeian." Her voice was laced with venom, her eyes scanning she with a predatory gleam.
Hermione, ever the picture of politeness, offered a tightly controlled smile. "It has its adjustments, Lavender. Though renovations can be quite rewarding when you get to personalise the space." Her voice held a hint of sugar, sweet enough to curdle milk, but laced with a pointed barb about Lavender's lack of interior design knowledge.
Lavender's eyes sparkled with a hint of malice. "I bet. It must be so... thrilling to live in such a modern place. All that luxury and, of course, the Malfoy legacy."
The insinuation in Lavender's words was clear. She clenched her jaw, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "Every place has its charm. It's the people who live there now that matter."
Lavender's eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with venom. "Oh, please, Granger. Don't pretend you're some sort of martyr. You married up, plain and simple. And don't think I haven't noticed the way you've been clinging to Malfoy like a barnacle. It's almost pathetic."
Her patience was wearing thin. She could feel her face growing hot. "Lavender, I appreciate your concern for my happiness, but perhaps we should change the subject. This conversation seems to be going nowhere productive." Her voice was firm, but she tried to maintain a polite tone.
His patience, too, was wearing thin. "Lavender," he interjected, his voice low and dangerous, "I believe this conversation has reached its conclusion."
Lavender smirked, leaning back in her chair. "Just curious, Draco. We're all friends here, aren't we?"
"Friends," Hermione thought bitterly. If this was friendship, she'd rather be alone.
"I would advise your husband to be more respectful and keep his eyes to himself during the meal," he said icily, his gaze locked with Ronald's. The atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically, the once hushed conversation turning into a tense silence. Her hand tightened around his, a silent plea for calm.
"Perhaps you should consider keeping your own eyes on your plate, rather than lingering over what doesn't belong to you. Because if I catch that intrusive gaze directed at my wife once more," he continued, a glint of steel flashing in his eyes, "well, let's just say this breakfast might end a bit more abruptly than you'd like." His eyes narrowed. "Admire from afar, Weasley. Or better yet, don't admire at all."
His hand, pale and elegant, closed around the silver knife. Its weight shifted in his palm, a familiar balance. His eyes, icy and predatory, locked onto Ron, a cold, calculating gleam in them. The clatter of cutlery and hushed conversations faded into a distant hum. The world narrowed to two men, a silent promise hanging heavy in the air.
The knife spun lazily in his fingers, catching the light in a deadly dance. Each rotation was a silent threat, a promise of violence should the need arise. Ron's face, once flushed with anger, turned a sickly shade of green. His eyes darted around, searching for an escape, a way out of this suffocating tension. But there was no escape. Only Draco, and the promise of pain that gleamed in his hand.
Ronald cleared his throat nervously before responding, "Look, Malfoy, I wasn't—"
He cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Save it, Weasley. I know how you used to look at her, and old habits die hard.
"No need for explanations, Weasley," he drawled, his voice laced with a silky menace. "We all have a past, don't we? Some are more regrettable than others, of course." He tilted his head slightly, a predator toying with his prey. "Isn't that right? After all, a leopard can't change its spots, can it?"
She placed a calming hand on his arm. "Draco."
His expression softened slightly as he turned to her. "I'm just making sure our boundaries are clear."
Ron nodded, still a bit flustered. "Yeah, I get it. Sorry, 'Mione."
He narrowed his eyes, his voice low. "Do not talk to her directly, Ronald. She is mine. She is mine to look at, to talk to. She means nothing to you now and forever. I'm the only one who knows how the golden cunt tastes. Get over her, and get back to that whore of a woman, that you call a wife."
She stood from the table and without a warning apparated them back to their home.