Chapter 8
August 23, 2018
Hermione spent the entirety of her first time flying first class fielding sympathetic looks from flight attendants who certainly thought she was flying out for a funeral. Knowing how long she’d been crying, they had good reason for their assumptions. She always had been an ugly crier.
She tapped her foot impatiently as the plane touched down, waiting for airplane mode to shut off and for her texts to pop up. With Pansy gone, there were only two… from Draco. She took a breath as she opened their text thread and typed a message of her own.
Hermione: Landed. Are you here?
Draco: I’m at arrivals door 4 in a black truck. See you soon, sweetheart.
Hermione let out a sob as Draco jumped out of his car like a knight in a shining black Ford F-150 a few minutes later and rushed around the vehicle to pull her into his arms. If her mind were less foggy, she would’ve noticed the way that he definitely was rocking ‘Edward Cullen pulling up to Forks High School in sunglasses’ vibes with his incognito hat and shades on.
Only this was Charlotte Douglas International Airport, not Forks, and her life was a crumbly mess of old ghosts coming out to play.
“Hi sweetheart,” he whispered into her hair, the bill of his hat pressing awkwardly into the crown of her head. It was clear that he was a recognizable figure around here, if not for his blond hair then his handsome face. But still, here he was, picking her up like any other boyfriend would. “Let’s get you home.”
Home… she liked the sound of that. She was grateful for his help into the truck, actually needing the hand up unlike when he pulled his act of chivalry as she hopped in and out of his compact DC car.
“Have some water, the purple one is for you,” Draco prodded as he carefully pulled out of the airport arrival area and onto the highway, nodding to the two plastic water bottles in the car’s cup holders.
She nodded, taking a sip of cold water. After crying out what she guessed to be most of the liquid in her body, she really was thirsty. She wasn’t a scientist, but she was pretty sure that’s how it worked.
“Do you have everything you need? Think of anything you forgot?” he asked.
“I’m okay,” Hermione croaked, speaking for the first time since she’d hung up with Draco before boarding her plane. “Sorry… for this.”
“I won’t pretend to know what you’re talking about,” Draco replied, voice as gentle as she’d ever heard it. Everything really did sound far nicer in southern accents, especially his.
“Drama… this soon. Didn’t want that to happen.”
“Sweetheart,” Draco sighed, taking her hand in his own while leaving the left one on the wheel. “If I got hit by a car and broke my leg, would you be mad at me?”
She shook her head.
“If I lose my seat in November, will you be mad at me for not waiting a few cycles before losing so our relationship was on more solid ground?”
Hermione cracked a small smile. She saw his point.
“We can’t help when unsavory events occur… and even if we aren’t years into our relationship, I’m still going to be there for you as though we were. Okay?”
Hermione nodded… that did sound rather good to her, as guilty as she still felt.
“I know, it’s just… it feels like this should be happening when we’re a bit more settled.”
“We can’t change what’s already happened, right? We roll with the punches.”
Hermione just nodded, unsure of how chipper Draco would be soon, when he knew everything.
“I have another drawer of sweats and t-shirts waiting for you here,” Draco offered. “They’ve been awfully lonely, and I heard through the grapevine that a pair of sweats called me pompous for ignoring them.”
She nodded, trying to smile.
“How was your flight?” Draco asked, trying to get her to talk. He was nothing if not persistent.
“First class was nice,” she replied, getting a pleased grin from Draco.
“That right, sugar? You wait until we get you on an international trip in first class, you’ll never go back to coach.”
“You say that like people who fly coach have a choice,” she replied, hoping her words didn’t fall flat. But honestly, she didn’t have the energy to think twice about it. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the smooth ride of the large truck.
“Hermione?” Draco asked quietly, jostling her arm softly.
She blinked her eyes open, not even having realized that they closed for more than a quick blink. The car was stopped in front of what she thought to be the quintessential southern home.
Draco’s home was as opulent and beautiful as he was; a sprawling white mansion with equally white pillars; a wraparound porch that had fancy rocking chairs. A sprawling lawn of bright green grass with well-manicured bushes and flowers. It was perfectly kempt and designed.
“Welcome home,” he smiled, a bit nervously, she thought. As though she’d have anything but praise for this gorgeous estate.
“It’s stunning, just what I expected.”
“Oh yeah?” Draco asked, taking Hermione’s bag over his shoulder and hopping out of the car. “Careful, don’t want you breaking a foot hopping out of this beast.”
He helped her down, ever the gentleman, and took the water bottles into his hands. Their eyes met for a moment, and he must’ve seen something in them that had him pulling her into another hug.
“I missed you, baby,” Draco breathed, one arm tight behind Hermione’s head and the other around her waist, water bottles jostling against her skin. She didn’t say anything, though, eyes blurry once again, because she didn’t have to. Draco was there, and he was going to take care of her.
“I think you’ll like inside as well,” Draco replied as he pulled back like they hadn’t just had a moment. “My housekeeper comes on Wednesdays, thankfully, so she was here yesterday and everything is neat.”
“Wow,” Hermione gasped as she walked in. The ceilings were high like they were in most pre-war homes, and there was light pouring in from every angle. They had walked in from the garage, which boasted an emerald green convertible and a nice mountain bike hanging on the wall, and stepped into a very well-organized mudroom. Draco had tons of pairs of shoes and casual jackets neatly hung; he was clearly a man of good means and very fashionable. None of this was new news for Hermione.
“I'm excited for you to see the kitchen,” Draco smiled, placing the water bottles down on the mudroom countertop and hiking her bag over his shoulder before grabbing her hand.
After a quick tour, she was pretty certain Draco spent at least $5 million on the house itself and renovations after seeing the stainless steel appliances, gorgeous furniture and fancy paintings she couldn’t quite place on the walls. Like any regular HGTV viewer, she could suss out an expensive home when she saw one.
And it was indeed a home; one with six bedrooms and nine baths, of course, but a home nonetheless. She loved it.
“Why don’t we go sit in the family room,” Draco suggested. “I have the same couch as I do in DC, I couldn't find one I liked better, so I bought the same one for each house.”
That was as Draco as a statement ever was.
“Can I borrow clothes first, please?” she asked. Sure, leggings were comfortable, but if she could put on Draco’s clothes that meant taking her bra off and not having a cheap elastic waistband hugging her hips. There were definitely perks to him being so much bigger than her, and loose clothes was top of the list.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
Hermione dreaded the conversation they were about to have, and knew she was going to crumble into pieces as soon as Draco asked her a question or gave her a gentle look.
She may have been tired, but she wasn’t dumb. Draco was wound tight and likely had been since she’d called him in the middle of a panic attack hours earlier.
Not that she’d gone into work that morning expecting a call that her mom hadn’t shown up to work and then another one from the police that she was being taken to the hospital only a few minutes later.
Thankfully, Remus hadn’t even asked her to explain why she wanted to go home, he just waved her out of the office and told her to take a long weekend. It seemed that being able to leave without question was a perk of being a hard worker. She wondered if it was that easy for Tonks to go home when she asked.
And, more than anything, she was grateful for her own ability to overcome her fear of letting people in for long enough to call Draco. She was barely able to get a word out when the call connected, sobbing so hard that he told her he was booking her on the next flight to Charlotte with no questions asked or answered. She had touched down a little over two hours after that point, and she was both impressed and thankful. No one deserved a man like Draco.
Especially her.
Draco was a self-proclaimed king of comfort and indulgence, which Hermione couldn’t find fault in. True to form, the man pulled out a fuzzy grey blanket from the wicker basket next to his couch and tucked it over himself and Hermione when they’d finally sat down. There was an unopened box of Kleenex, the fancy kind with lotion somehow imbued in them, on the glass table in front of the couch, which showed just how quickly Draco had worked after getting her on a flight.
“What happened, Hermione? You really scared me, love. I had no idea what was going on when you called.” Draco started, pulling one of her hands into his lap. Whether it was for his comfort or hers, she didn’t know.
She took a deep breath.
“It’s a long story.”
“I have all of the time in the world,” Draco replied.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, knowing that he had something like five farmer’s markets to visit and a spaghetti dinner at a local firehouse tonight. All clearly cancelled because of her.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Now, just focus on telling me what’s going on, please. I won’t interrupt.”
Hermione nodded. She could follow directions.
“I’ve never told this story before, so I might be all over the place. And I’m a bit… frazzled.”
“Hermione,” Draco nodded firmly, his eyes egging her on.
“Sorry, I’m nervous. Well… when I was in eighth grade, my parents were gone a lot. They had two dental offices, and would split their time between both locations. But they started leaving me at friends' houses so late that I ended up sleeping over. They even missed the initial meeting with my English teacher who called me uncreative. But when I looked to adults to see if they were worried, no one was, so I tried to ignore it.”
“Mom was a family dentist and dad was an oral surgeon, so their schedules were always booked. They didn’t have many friends and they’re both only children, so my mom’s parents and I were the only ones close enough to notice if anything was wrong.”
She looked up at Draco, a man who knew nothing but the fierce, protective love of a family with wide brown eyes. He was looking back at her with concern in his own; she just hoped it would still be there when he knew everything, a life that he could never truly fathom.
“Er- I was always kind of awkward and bookish, I didn’t have many friends growing up… I still don’t, honestly. But that summer, between eighth and ninth grade, I remember asking my mom for money to go to the movies after being invited by some girls. She started crying and screaming at me, saying we didn’t have money to spend on movies.
“I remember running upstairs and locking the door to my room. I barricaded myself in with my dresser, but she never even tried to come in. The house was silent, and looking back, I think she just passed out.”
Draco had been stone still until she took a deep breath, taking her hand to his lips like he couldn’t bear not to comfort her. Like he needed her to be okay as much as she needed to be okay… it was a power she’d never wielded over another individual before. She didn’t know if it was one she deserved.
“I remember reading the term emotional terrorism online once, and that’s the only way I can describe that summer. My dad had always been home less than my mom since he performed surgeries on Saturdays, but I just couldn’t breathe every time I heard his footsteps.
“I… I came back from a sleepover once and dad was just sitting at the kitchen table. His eyes were all red and he had a bunch of papers in front of him. I asked what he was working on and he just held them up to my face and asked what I had done. There were just scribbles all over blank printer paper, and he was spitting mad, just shaking the papers in my face like it was supposed to mean something to me.”
Hermione reached to grab the water bottle with a shaking hand, grateful for the nozzle so that she didn’t spill all over the fuzzy crewneck she’d borrowed from Draco.
“I’d been spending a lot of time with my mom’s parents who also live in Seattle, but they said mom and dad were just stressed. There was nothing more than that from the only adults who knew my parents well enough to help. It wasn’t really a slow decline by the time I started ninth grade, it was like a freight train crashing into the suburban normalcy that I’d grown up in.
“Then.... mom threw a vase at me when I asked if we could go shopping for a homecoming dress,” Hermione’s lips wobbled for the first time, and Draco’s hand tightened around her own.
“It missed me, but that was the moment I realized that things weren’t normal. I went to see my grandma and asked again if she’d talked to mom, and she assured me that they were just stressed. I was a ninth grader, Draco… there just wasn’t really anywhere to turn unless I called the police on my own parents. There was really no option but to get through it.
“There were only a few months that things were really bad at home; they stopped going to the grocery store, we couldn’t turn the HVAC on because dad thought it was releasing poison into the house, and they’d bring strangers over and shut themselves in the basement at all hours of the night. They’d still go into work, and grandma just seemed unwilling to entertain the fact that anything was different, even though she let me sleepover most nights.
“So when I was with them, I just barricaded myself in my room all of the time. All I focused on was getting good grades and then leaving and never coming back.”
She was surprised to find her words coming quickly, like they had been bouncing around inside and couldn’t wait to be shared with the world. Which, to be fair, they probably had.
“Sorry, I’m almost done… In April of freshman year, I came home from school one day and mom was at the kitchen table sobbing. It wasn’t a new scene; her moods were erratic, but thankfully she was less angry than my dad. She told me that he was in jail.
“That night showed me just how far out of it she was; when the police showed up with a warrant, she just let them in without even trying to hide their tracks. The police uncovered at least $10,000 worth of opioids in the basement, and my dad’s phone was full of texts and emails selling people nitrous oxide tanks and other prescription pills from their dental practice.”
She couldn’t help but chance a glance up at that, to see if Draco’s expression had turned to disgust. She’d done the calculus, once, twice, a million times, tossing and turning in her bed late at night as their relationship had taken a clear turn towards longevity. She was a liability to someone like Draco… someone who was untouched by the very forces that’d rocked her entire world. She didn’t know what to think when his expression was the same as before, if not more intense; concerned, protective… caring. So she kept talking.
“Dad’s still in prison. Medical malpractice and selling prescription drugs. Turns out he’d botched someone’s wisdom teeth surgery and they’d opened up a case. But the day he was arrested, he got angry and stabbed someone with a surgical tool during a routine cleaning.
“Both patients are okay, thank God. I’m still not sure what happened exactly, but I think he took the fall for everything in court. Mom got off without any charges. He’ll be out at some point next year on good behavior if he continues down the path he’s on.”
She took deep breath, trying not to panic at the knowledge that Draco now knew every dirty bit of her life that she’d gone to great lengths to hide. What would a man like him even have to say about her family?
“Sweetheart… my brave Hermione. Why don’t you take another sip of water?” Draco instructed in a sugary sweet drawl, focusing on his girl’s physical needs right now. “Good girl. Thank you for telling me this… I can’t imagine that it was comfortable to relive, let alone share with someone else. I am in awe of your bravery and strength. I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with this, sweetheart. You must’ve felt so alone, and I just need you to know you’re not dealing with this by yourself anymore.
“I have to ask, what set you off on the phone earlier? I couldn’t understand what you were saying as much as I tried, and you haven’t mentioned how your mom is doing.”
Hermione’s eyes bubbled up with tears again, hands covering her face and muffling her sobs.
Draco stroked her hair, speaking quiet reassurances into her ear.
“She’s in the hospital, they found her passed out at their house today. I think she relapsed… she’d been sober for almost seven years.”
The man’s self control seemed to lapse at that, and Hermione let herself go once she was wrapped in his tight embrace. She had no idea how long they sat there, Draco’s arms unwavering from where they held her trembling body to his own.
“Not to seem coldhearted, but what was the last that you heard?”
“No, you’re good,” Hermione sniffled, wanting to reassure him. “A police chaplain called to give me an official notification that mom is at the hospital. Mrs. Mullens who works with her called me earlier today because mom didn’t show up to work yesterday or today. She’s been healthy. She was even working as a secretary at the middle school I went to. I told Mrs. Mullens I hadn’t heard from her… so she called the police and they went to the house.”
“Did they give you any contact information?” Draco asked.
She nodded, pulling out her phone and handing it over. “I wrote down his name and number.”
“Would you want to call back together? I’m sure they have more information by now, but most police departments call next-of-kin immediately when possible.”
Hermione knew she needed to call, but dreaded it. What could the police tell her that she needed to hear?
“It’s incredibly complicated, Draco.”
“I’m sure, but I’m still here to listen,” Draco reminded her.
“I moved in with my grandparents almost immediately, and we discovered in the trial that he and my mother had spent my entire college fund and most of their retirement on drugs. Everything they’d worked towards was gone, and that’s saying something for two individuals who’d long paid off their mortgage and schooling. So I was not too far off the money when I’d just locked myself into my room to study, because I wouldn’t have been able to go to college without a scholarship. They squandered literally everything we had without a thought.”
“And your mom?” Draco asked, not wanting to dive into his consoling until he had the facts, as tough as it was not to wrap Hermione up and never let her go.
“She was angry. Dad took the fall like I said, but that left her alone. Without me. Her parents were upset and tried to be supportive, but they didn’t understand why they’d throw their lives away like they did. They’re older… addiction doesn’t really invoke a sense of sympathy from them. But Mrs. Mullens, the lead secretary at my middle school, offered mom a job. Grandma promised mom was doing well, but clearly something changed.”
Draco just nodded, fingers rubbing his jaw as he thought through everything he’d just heard. This was not what he was expecting. Of course he’d googled the Grangers a bit and felt surprised at virtually nothing being posted about their dental practice outside of a few old reviews on the White Pages website. There was no Yelp, no Zocdoc, no website, no Facebook page… as though their practice had ceased to exist prior to the importance of online reviews. Which would make complete sense with the timeline Hermione had just laid out.
“You are incredibly brave, Hermione. And even more resilient than I can imagine; I’m not sure that there’s any time in a relationship, romantic or platonic, that bringing this up would happen easily. So thank you for sharing this piece of your life with me.”
She huffed a laugh, leaning her head onto Draco’s shoulder.
“What’s funny is that I honestly don’t even think about them anymore. Dad told my grandparents that he didn’t want me visiting him in prison, and after two years of him not writing me back, I just stopped. My therapist told me that it wasn’t worth it to expend energy and emotion on people who weren’t reciprocating the time and energy that I put into them, and she was right. I’m happy that dad’s getting out, truly, but I just can’t find a place for him in the life that I’ve built. It may sound cruel, but I don’t think I have the capacity for forgiveness right now, I don’t.”
“Hermione, I’m never going to tell you to forgive anyone who's hurt you. No one has the right to, okay? I tease you, but I mean it… your capacity to love and treat others kindly is really incredible. Just because you can love people well, though, doesn’t mean you need to love everyone. Healthy boundaries will keep you from going crazy, and you are the only one who can set them for yourself.”
She smiled up at him with red cheeks and watery eyes. He thought she was even more beautiful than the first day he’d met her.
“You sound like my therapist.”
“Oh yeah? Hopefully that means I’m talking sense, then. Do you still see someone?”
She shook her head, “I stopped when I moved out here and I was no longer on my grandparents’ insurance… at that point it was just maintenance and more me complaining about school and stress than anything else, though, so I felt okay to stop.”
“I’m glad you were able to seek help, that’s a step above what most people do for themselves. If you need to talk to someone, though, there are free counselors through work.”
Hermione knocked her forehead against his bicep. “I like that you know the resources available to us at work. You’re a good man.”
Draco gave into his desires and kissed her forehead. “I want to be good to my staff, and that means knowing how to help them in any situation.”
“You are good to your staff, Draco. I haven’t heard Pansy seriously complain about you once.”
The man laughed. “I also let Pansy take a two week vacation to Italy even though she hasn’t accrued that much paid time off, so I don’t think she can complain.”
Hermione shook her head, “Oh, but she will. Pansy could always find something to complain about.”
Draco smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me… now, let’s see about calling the police department back and seeing if there’s more information. My thought is that if you have the complete picture, you can figure out how to move forward, especially if there’s a chance they haven’t contacted your grandparents. Does that work for you?”
She clicked her teeth together rapidly in a way that had Draco shuddering. That was a bad habit he hadn’t seen her exercise before.
“Would you stay with me while I call? And make sure I ask all of the right questions so I don’t have to call back?”
“Hermione, I flew you here to make sure that you were taken care of and not alone,” Draco said gently. “That isn’t going to change now that I have the full story, okay?”
She nodded. “It’s just weird, having to bring someone else in on your family problems. I know everyone has some weird family shaped skeletons in their closet, but this is a lot for anyone to take in. I wish I was stuck with a creepy uncle skeleton instead.”
Draco laughed.
“I remind myself of it all of the time, and I’ll do you the same courtesy… we don’t choose what family we’re born into. And we’re not obligated to stay in touch with our family either, especially when they cause you harm. You can feel sad, love, but I don’t want you to feel guilty. Especially if the guilt is because you’re sharing parts of your life with me.”
“Thank you,” she replied, resting her head on Draco’s shoulder. “I’m ready.”
xxx
“This is good,” Hermione smiled, it wasn’t the normal carefree expression she wore when happy, but it was enough for Draco.
“That’s music to my ears. I wanted to take you here, so takeout is the next best thing.”
“What’s it called again?” she asked.
“The Cowfish Burger Bar, but the cool people just call it Cowfish,” Draco informed, getting a small giggle.
“I’m glad to have a cool kid advising me,” she replied, popping another blackened tuna nacho into her mouth.
Draco had ordered almost the entire menu under the guise of wanting her to try everything, but really he was just worried she wouldn’t want to eat.
“Try this,” he prodded, holding a piece of sushi to her mouth.
She nodded as she chewed the sizable bite, holding up a thumb in approval. “Yummy… it’s spicy.”
“It’s a spicy shrimp and crab roll, it’s my favorite. Sometimes I don’t want raw fish and still want sushi, this is the perfect fix.”
“Good choice,” she agreed, licking spicy mayo off her fingers.
“What did you have to cancel today?” Hermione asked, feeling a bit more sturdy after a filling dinner. She watched Draco continue to eat, using chopsticks as though it were second nature. She already knew that he was extremely classy and refined, but it was something else to be able to witness him in action.
He also earned another point in her book for not laughing when she requested a fork.
Draco gave her a disapproving look. “I told you not to worry about me, didn’t I?”
“You can tell me that, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still worrying about you,” Hermione scoffed. Men.
“I appreciate your concern, but everything today was easy to cancel. Blaise is more than capable of schmoozing, which is why he travels back and forth with me anyways.”
“Doesn’t he come back to see his wife?”
Draco laughed. “Yes, Luna too. But mostly to schmooze and show off his beloved wife, which is very much in line with the Malfoy agenda. I’ll have to go to two events tomorrow that I can’t miss, and a few more on Saturday.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Hermione replied with a weak smile.
“Too late,” Draco shrugged, clearly not joking. “I was thinking… what if Luna comes over? She’s great company and one of the most peaceful people I know.”
“Doesn’t that put you in a weird spot?”
Draco sighed. “Blaise was at the farmer’s market with me today when you called, I had him drive me back here so I could book your flight. He’s been suspicious the past few months, obviously, but I’m thinking we just talk to him tomorrow.”
Hermione knew that Draco’s chief, Blaise Zabini, was someone he trusted implicitly. He was a few years younger than Draco, but he’d been on his staff since the blond first ran for Congress and worked his way up to the top role on his team.
“Can we just figure it out tomorrow? I’m really tired,” Hermione replied, trying to swallow a yawn at the mention of sleeping.
“Of course. Let’s get you all settled upstairs and then I’ll come clean up.”
It was a testament to how tired Hermione was that she didn’t protest the fact that she wasn’t helping to clean up the exorbitant spread of food in the family room.
“I have a guest room set up for you in case you don’t want to sleep in my room,” Draco explained, holding Hermione’s hand and standing behind her as she walked up the stairs like he thought she was going to topple down.
Hermione had her answer without even thinking about it, which was a first for her.
“Your room… please. I don’t want to be alone.”
She felt pretty bold, but the thought of waking up in a panic and not recognizing the room she was in seemed like a far worse alternative than sharing a bed with Draco. This wasn’t how she pictured their first time sleeping together, but like Draco said… no one picked the timeline that life provided.
“I dropped your bag in there earlier, so that works well, sweetheart. Why don’t you get all set up in the bathroom?”
Draco’s bathroom was opulent with a double sink, a large jacuzzi-style bathtub and shower. What kind of person had a shower and a bathtub stationed in opposite corners of the same bathroom? Draco Malfoy did.
She felt much better after brushing her teeth and pulling her hair back; Hermione was firmly in the ‘shower after you travel’ camp, but tonight was a different story. The sooner the day was over, the better.
Draco was standing near the right side of the large, white duvet covered bed. She could see that he’d already pulled the covers back and had to hide a smile.
He, however, had already caught the expression and his face melted into a fond look she didn’t feel she deserved.
“I’ve been told I’m talented at most things I dabble in, but I’ve never tucked a sweet thing like you into bed. So I’ll be happy to take any constructive criticism.”
If only people knew what a softie he was.
Draco tucked her in tightly, pressing kisses to her forehead, both cheeks and lips before pulling back and brushing a stray curl behind her ear. His technique was flawless, and she told him as much. Leave it to Draco to be good at everything, no matter the task.
Hermione’s eyes met his, and he looked a bit uncertain.
“What?” she asked. That wasn’t a look she liked to see on his normally confident face.
“Would you mind if I prayed over you?” Draco asked.
Hermione gave him a small smile and nodded; the man always prayed before they ate together, which is something that her parents had stopped doing back in middle school. His private shows of faith meant a lot to her; it was a small thing, but she felt unspeakably lucky as Draco’s low, calming voice cried out for her heart’s healing and for her to be wrapped in protection and strength.
She knew deep down that if they were to get married, this would be the moment she recounted when their friends and family, maybe even their children, asked when she knew he was the one. Squinting an eye open, she watched Draco with one large hand pressed to her shoulder and the other held loosely in the air, fingers cupped towards the ceiling. He looked calm and relaxed while words of praise and love for her were on his lips, like praying for her was as easy as breathing. This was the moment.
“Want me to stay until you fall asleep?” he asked afterwards, crawling gently onto the bed after she nodded and using one large finger to wipe stray tears from her eyes.
She was out like a light only moments later, unable to remember what Draco had been whispering in her ear as she nodded off.
xxx
The next morning was more than a bit jarring. Waking up in a state she’d never visited and in bed with a man, albeit a fully dressed one, for the first time was overwhelming.
Hermione hopped up and made her way into the bathroom, locking the door and turning the shower on. As much as she wanted to take a bath, she didn’t want to chance Draco needing to come in while she soaked.
Thoughtful as ever, he’d set two towels on the shower’s shelf.
Her curls would’ve never stayed tame in the North Carolina heat without her specialized products, the only goods that she ever felt okay to splurge on, and it was one of the only things she’d tossed into the carry-on bag that she’d stolen from Pansy’s closet. The consequences of her frizzy, untamed curls were far too much to think about while living and working in a literal swamp. Expensive shampoo and conditioner was the only way forward.
Changing into a new pair of underwear and yet another dark gray Tar Heels shirt and shorts, Hermione hung the towels carefully and walked back into the bedroom. Draco was awake and scrolling on his phone, looking far too handsome and still boasting no chin rolls.
“Everything to your liking?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Hermione replied, eyes widening as she heard her croaky voice. She didn’t expect that, but after a day full of crying, it probably wasn’t too surprising. “Thank you.”
“Of course, love. Now, we have a few options. We can eat breakfast, I’ll leave you here alone and be back around 2pm. Or Luna and Blaise can come over with breakfast and she’ll stay here with you while I’m gone. We’ll need to explain what’s going on to Blaise at some point. As much as I don’t want to add something else to your plate right now, this will make it easier for us going forward.”
“What do you want to do?” Hermione replied, not really knowing the answer. “I am serious when I say it doesn’t matter to me; this is your life and your career, Draco. Just choose whatever you see as the best option of telling Blaise.”
“I think we have them come over this morning and get it out of the way. It’s better that Luna’s here when we talk, she keeps Blaise calm.”
“That sounds good to me, love.”
Hermione waved Draco into the bathroom so she could make the bed up neatly. It was a bit of a thing; she didn’t like starting the day without knowing her bed looked nice, and she’d do the same for him. Honestly, it was the least she could do after all he’d done the past 24 hours.
She could hear Draco brushing his teeth and took the moment to look down at her phone and noticed that there were two missed calls from her grandmother. Hermione had texted the woman last night to let her know she’d talked to the police, and that she’d connect in the morning.
It was already 9:30am, which was far later than Hermione normally slept in.
“I’m going to call my grandma,” Hermione said, peeking her head into the bathroom where Draco was now gargling mouthwash.
“Hermione?” the woman asked, sounding alert despite the early hour as the call connected. The woman loved to garden when no one else was awake, and Hermione was sure she’d already spent hours tending to the plants. It was a good stress reliever if nothing else for the retired accountant.
“Hi grandma. How are you?” she asked.
“As well as I can be, dear. I don’t mean to bother you at work, but I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay,” the woman replied.
She, like Hermione’s mother, wasn’t the most nurturing of individuals. Hermione was grateful that they took her in, though, so she could finish up high school in Seattle. It was hard, though,to stay in touch with them. The fact that she knew her grandparents were retired made it clear they had every opportunity to reach out to her first, even though she was the one who texted or called 99.9 percent of the time. So that basically settled that for her.
“I’m well,” Hermione replied. She wasn’t fully lying either, she just was not at work or even in the District of Columbia. “Getting the call was a bit of a shock, but I just don’t know what else we can do… I haven’t talked to mom in months.”
The older woman sighed, “Me neither, not for lack of effort on my part.”
“Did you go see her?”
“Your grandfather and I visited last night,” the woman replied. “She’s going back into treatment once she’s fully recovered, looks like she broke a bone in her finger when she fell and is a bit dehydrated. You don’t worry about us, okay? You know as well as grandpa and I that we’ve done all we can, as much as we wish there was more to do. Just focus on your job, make some friends, go on some dates… You’re only young once, dear.”
Hermione smiled a bit, “Yes, grandma. Thank you. I love you. Tell grandpa hi from me.”
“Certainly dear, once the bag of lazy bones wakes up.”
She felt lighter as she hung up, noticing a fully-dressed Draco for the first time. The man was dressed in dark wash jeans that weren’t quite skinny, but also far from the baggy ‘dad jeans’ that’d gotten President Shacklebolt blasted in the news. His shirt was sky blue oxford rolled up his forearms.
“I’ve never seen you this casual for a day in public,” she noted.
Draco did a small flourish of his hands up and down his body. “Like what you see? This is North Carolina congressman casual. It's how I show that I’m a man of the people.”
Hermione nodded, swallowing a laugh. She definitely liked North Carolina congressman casual.
“Blaise and Luna should be here soon,” Draco said with a small frown down at his watch. “He said that she’d been baking all night, which was unusual for her, but she felt she’d need a lot of food to get through the weekend.”
“Is she… psychic or something?” Hermione asked. Just who was Draco’s chief married to?
Draco tipped his hand back and forth. “She has some version of the sight… her great great great great grandmother was one of four women tried and executed in South Carolina witch trials back in the late 1700s… I wouldn’t put it past her to have a bit of magic in her, you’ll see when you meet her.”
“I’m both scared and intrigued,” Hermione replied. “Will they mind if I’m in sweats?”
“Absolutely not, and if they did, I still wouldn’t care. I told you that you wouldn’t need anything fancy this weekend, and I meant it… all you need to focus on is relaxing.”
“That’s harder than it sounds,” Hermione sighed.
“I say this as a good thing; your office won’t even notice that you’re missing when we’re out of session. There’s nothing going on. So take a break, relax, and let me serve you… okay?”
“If you insist,” Hermione sighed, unable to hide the small smile on her face at his doting.
“I certainly do insist on it, ma’am!” Draco replied in an exaggerated accent that had Hermione laughing and sharing the story of what’d happened back at the disastrous dinner with Harry.
Draco had immediately agreed that Pansy was a force to be respected and treated carefully, though he objected to the term big ma’am energy. Hermione was so entranced by the tranquility of a North Carolina morning with Draco that she was shocked at the sound of the garage opening.
“He said we’re too close for him to use the front door,” Draco shrugged.
Hermione had pulled her curls back into a french braid after her shower, but was now second guessing it. There was a weirdness in this; she was being introduced to people who knew Draco well enough to have his garage code and just walk into his house; and here she was, showering at his house and wearing his pajamas. It was like friends and family against significant others; two very important, yet diverging paths in someone’s life that ultimately had to come together. Relationships were weird, and Hermione didn’t understand how so many people had successful marriages when so much went into making one work.
“I knew something was happening today,” a beautiful blonde smiled as an attractive duo walked in from the mudroom.
Her hair was a little less curly than Hermione’s, but similarly colored to Draco’s and pulled over her shoulder in a fishtail braid. She had on a flowy white tunic dress that made her look classy and cool at the same time. “I’m Luna.”
Hermione’s expression must’ve shown her surprise at being tugged off of the kitchen chair she’d been perched on and into Luna’s arms, because Draco gave her a wink when she looked over the other girl’s shoulders.
“Hi Luna,” she smiled, trying to put her best foot forward for the people who were important to Draco, even if it meant a hug with a stranger. “It’s nice to meet you… I’m Hermione.”
“It’s a real pleasure.”
The woman was a literal southern doll; she was just a bit taller than Hermione was, but she was long and lithe in a modelesque way that short people rarely were. Her blue eyes were framed by natural lashes, and her skin was smooth and clear even though it was obvious she had no makeup on. Something was definitely in the water down here with people like her and Draco walking around.
“Blaise,” Draco said next, voice a bit serious. “I’d like you to meet Hermione Granger.”
“Miss Granger, like my darling wife said, it’s a pleasure,” the dark-skinned man smiled.
His accent was a bit thicker than Draco’s, but less pronounced than Luna’s.
“Just Hermione,” she corrected with what she hoped to be a kind smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Blaise. I’ve heard so much about you.”
His eyes widened for a second in recognition. “You wouldn’t happen to be the Hermione that our Pansy often speaks of?”
She blushed. What was Pansy saying? “That would be me, but hopefully you know Pansy well enough already to take everything she says with a grain of salt.”
Blaise laughed, “This all makes a lot more sense now, I’d say…”
“How’s that?” Draco asked.
“Pansy loves to talk about her smart, beautiful best friend, but now that I think about it, she only ever does so when Draco is around.”
“Oh gosh,” Hermione groaned, covering her face in embarrassment. “I’m sorry about that.”
“She’s loyal,” Luna smiled, a serene look that wouldn’t be out of place on a fairy from an old-fashioned children’s book. “Loyal friends are hard to come by… and I think they’ll be even more important for you in the days ahead.
Draco nodded at that, gesturing for everyone to sit around the table.
Luna took charge, clearly comfortable in Draco’s kitchen. “Let me grab some plates. Blaise, please open everything up and let Hermione load her plate up first.”
“Everything looks good,” Hermione replied honestly, a bit intimidated by the spread of biscuits and gravy, cinnamon rolls, fruit, eggs and bacon. “What’s in the pitcher?”
“Sweet tea, of course,” Luna smiled. “I’m a bit more southern than these two, which means a meal is never complete without a pitcher of tea.”
“I’m excited to try everything. Thank you, Luna.”
“My pleasure,” she smiled. “I’m just glad my sight was accurate.”
“It always is,” Blaise replied, pressing a kiss to his wife’s hand as she sat down. They were a study in opposites; his face was all sharp angles while hers was almost cherubic. Her long flowing locks were almost white while his dark hair was cropped to his head. No one would be able to deny how good they looked together, though, and from what she could tell, they were equally well-matched in personality.
“Now, how’d a sweet thing like you end up here, Hermione?” Luna asked earnestly.
Hermione had to hide a giggle at the thought of Draco saying the same thing a few months ago, quickly locking eyes with him. His wink showed that he remembered the same conversation.
“Well, I actually met Draco while working on the Hill. I needed to get something signed by him, and he walked into the front office as I was asking his scheduler if he was available.”
Draco laughed at her retelling. “Rather, Hermione told Marietta that she wasn’t going to leave the front office until I came out to sign.”
She blushed, but Blaise let out a roaring laugh.
“That was you?” he asked, and she nodded. “Oh, lord, I remember that day. We were all in the back office watching the rap remix of Horace Slughorn getting his jacket stuck in an elevator when he tried to waddle away from cameras.”
“That was her,” Draco smiled, shaking his head at the memory.
“How long ago was that?” Luna asked, cutting up her biscuits and gravy in a dainty that Hermione wasn’t sure she could ever master.
“February,” Draco replied without any nervousness in his voice.
“You first chatted in February or have been together since February?” Luna asked.
Hermione loved a woman who asked the right questions.
“We’ve been together since mid-June.”
“Who knows?” Blaise asked.
Hermione knew enough to see worry on his face.
“You two are the first people we’ve told,” Draco shared.
“I’m happy for you both,” said Blaise. His smile was lukewarm at best.
Hermione could tell there was a but coming.
“Can I speak frankly?”
“Remember who you’re speaking to,” Draco replied. Hermione was a bit shocked; she’d never heard him pull the congressman card with anyone.
“How old are you, Hermione?”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m turning 22 next month.”
“Christ on a cracker,” Blaise murmured, getting a pinch on his arm from Luna in reprimand. Whether for the language or sentiment, the younger woman didn’t know. “Sorry, this is just… not what I expected from you, Draco.”
“There’s nothing to expect when it comes to the ways of love,” Luna replied, rolling her eyes like Blaise was being a fool for not accepting Draco’s relationship with a woman half his age. Hermione appreciated her support.
“You’re right, Luna, as you usually are. This was… unexpected for both of us, but I’m not keen to keep it from you both. Both for professional and personal reasons, it’s better if at least one other person knows that we’re together,” Draco nodded at Luna warmly.
“I’m happy for you both,” Luna smiled. “Love is often unexpected and it is always beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Hermione smiled, reaching out for Draco’s hand under the table. “It’s a bit odd for you both, I’m sure, but I’m glad that Draco has friends who he can come to.”
“We’re your friend now as well, Hermione,” Luna promised. “Judging by your accent, you aren’t going to be too familiar with a big old southern family, but now you’re a part of ours.”
“And there’s no getting out of it,” Blaise smirked. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”
Luna just smiled.
“Not to talk shop, but what are you hoping to do with this, Drake? We’re months from the election,” Blaise reminded him, as though it were breaking news.
“Thanks, I completely forgot,” Draco deadpanned. “Hermione and I have thoroughly discussed this; we’re waiting until after the election to venture out publicly. But I realize that the longer we keep you out of the loop, the more likely we are to slip up.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Blaise replied easily. “What are your plans while here in the Queen City, Hermione?”
Draco cut in, something that would’ve normally annoyed her, but left her grateful. She had no desire to share anything about what was going on with two strangers, no matter Draco’s trust in them.
“Her work gave her a day off today, so she flew out last night at the last-minute. She’ll just be spending time here at my home.”
“You can’t miss today’s events, Draco,” Blaise replied, eyes hard in the same way Remus’ often were when James tried to skip a meeting. She thought they had to have taught the look in chief of staff school, it was that uncanny.
“I wasn’t planning on it, but I appreciate your concern. We were thinking Luna could spend the day with Hermione. What do you think?”
“Yes,” Luna agreed enthusiastically. “Perhaps a soak by the pool?”
“I don’t have a bathing suit,” Hermione frowned. Draco had a pool? She hadn’t even gone out back yet, but that honestly didn’t surprise her.
“Down south, we keep bathing suits in our car. You never know when you’ll need one,” Luna consoled.
“I think that’s just Luna, actually,” Blaise replied. “You don’t know how many times I’ve worried she’d die from an obscure disease after forcing me to pull off the road so she can swim in random lakes and creeks.”
Luna shrugged, “It’s a chance I’m willing to take if I can be one with the earth for a while…”
Hermione was very much unlike Luna, but she still liked her all the same. So far, at least. Not that she was surprised; Draco was a picky man, it figured that he’d only surround himself with the best sort of people.
“Last question… do Lucius and Cissa know?”
Draco shook his head, and Hermione could tell how uncomfortable he was with the question. Which, honestly… she knew that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy would likely lose their minds when they found out their son was in a relationship with a Democratic staffer half his age. She’d come to terms with that likely reality for the time being, and would leave freaking out for when it was worth freaking out.
“They won’t be informed until after the election. We know how father gets during campaign season, and I’m not going to contribute to a further spiral.”
Blaise just nodded his head at that, like he knew exactly what Draco was referencing.
For now, Hermione counted herself lucky that she didn’t know the ins and outs of Lucius Malfoy’s pre-election emotions.
xxx
“Sorry mother, I’m feeling a bit under the weather,” Draco said, and Hermione had to cover her mouth at his very fake cough. “No, I don’t need to - hello, father. As I told mother, I’m just a bit under the weather. Yes, I have food. Yes, I’m going to sleep. Thank you, love you too, goodnight. Yes, I love you as well mother, goodnight.”
Draco laid back on his bed after that with a smack, letting out a groan. Hermione couldn’t help the peals of giggles that came out of her at the conversation she just witnessed.
“They forget that I’m not 10 sometimes, as you can see,” Draco shared, reaching a hand up to gently yank Hermione towards his body.
She fell on him willingly, bracketing his side and throwing her leg over his thighs in a way that was reminiscent of the first time she’d heard Draco and his mother talk on the phone.
“I think it’s sweet,” she smiled, head fitting perfectly into the crevice of Draco’s armpit. “They seem really nice.”
“Mother’s very sweet,” Draco agreed. “My father can be charming, but he’s also extremely intense.”
“Did you get along with your parents when you were little?” Hermione asked, feeling like the dam was finally breaking on Draco’s willingness to speak about his parents.
“We did. I wanted to be just like him and my grandfather, and they brought me everywhere with them so that I could feel like I was one of them. As a teenager, I was held on a bit of a tight leash due to the nature of his job, but I understood why. There was never a point where I held the typical teenage annoyance with my parents, as shocking as that may be.”
“What about your sister, Columba? Did she ever want to go into politics?”
Draco shook his head, smiling. “She didn’t. Our Dove was far more interested in playing with my pop and granny’s farm animals and playing midwife as they gave birth.”
Hermione widened her eyes, “Oh? Did she go to college?”
“She did, she is a farm veterinarian, actually. She met her husband at vet school.”
“That’s amazing. People who love animals well enough to care for them are always special,” Hermione smiled, before running a hand up through Draco’s hair. “What will she think of us, Draco?”
“She’ll love you,” Draco promised, and Hermione was surprised at the confidence in his voice. “All she’s ever wanted is a sister, and I don’t think she’d be picky with the one that I provide. Her and my mother… they’re lovely, truly. I know you’ll hate when I say it, but they epitomize the term southern belles.”
“I do hate it,” Hermione replied, getting a kiss on her nose in apology.
“You know exactly what I’m saying without me explaining it, though. I mean, anyone who meets Luna would think she’s a perfect doll.”
“She is!” Hermione yelped in her new friend’s defense.
Draco squinted at Hermione. “Luna is a South Carolina princess, sugar. She can play ball with the best of them, the same way my mother and sister were raised to. What they look like to others has no bearing on who they are in private. You think that the men meeting my sister at galas thought she’d become a veterinarian? Absolutely not… they had dreams of her barefoot and pregnant, giving them unfettered access to father and grandfather.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it? Women should just be able to do whatever they want. Whether that’s a job or kids, there shouldn’t be a question of whether or not that’s acceptable,” Hermione huffed, tracing Draco’s chest through his thin Lululemon top.
“And you’re right, but you’re talking to southern men who take a woman wanting to work as an offense.”
“If their logic is that they have enough money for their wife not to work, then why do they work themselves? All of the families have old money.”
“Because that’s what men do,” Draco shrugged. “I’m just parroting their argument back to you, so don’t shoot the messenger.”
“It’s archaic and despicable! Your sister is brave for bucking the system and doing what truly makes her happy. Did your parents get upset?”
“Well… Columba didn’t get married until 23, and by that point I was 28 and single, so… I can’t say they were too happy with either of us. But after she got married, they didn’t really care what she did.”
“Can I ask now?” Hermione whispered, nuzzling her face against Draco’s ear.
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask, but you haven’t,” Draco replied, a small smile on his face.
“I didn’t know if it was the right time, and we’ve been talking through FaceTime the past month… that’s hardly the best way to have important conversations.”
Draco laughed. “I’ve actually found that not being with someone makes it far easier to have tough conversations. If I could fire people or cancel scheduled events through text, life would be a whole lot better.”
Hermione shook her head, nudging Draco’s shoulder now that she felt a bit braver in their dynamic. It felt different, being back with Draco after a month of talking on the phone and FaceTiming everyday. She hadn’t had much of a chance to miss him, thankfully, but hearing his voice and seeing his smile through her phone’s old camera made her even more eager for a time when they’d be able to be together without puzzling their schedules together.
“I take it you want to know why a handsome man like me is still unmarried at 40?” he asked.
“I do want to know,” she replied. “But my question was more along the lines of, why is a handsome, intelligent, extremely kind man like you still unmarried at 40?”
“There you go with your sweetness again, sugar.” Draco’s body relaxed a bit at her ribbing, something that made her feel better. The man was always seemingly unaffected by tough topics, so seeing him tense up a bit had her a little anxious.
“Growing up with stories from two sets of grandparents and your own grandparents about how they fell in love in high school and were married before graduation gives you a bit of a complex, a higher set of expectations than most people could ever imagine. The words true love, soulmates, perfect match and instant connection were thrown around at every family gathering I went to and in every man-to-man talk my father ever gave me… it made dating hard.
“I saw everything that was wrong with even the loveliest girls before I’d even heard what their favorite movie was. Their laugh was too loud, they were dismissive of my favorite waiter at a restaurant, they showed up five minutes late... The best way of describing it is that I expected a rightness in our interactions to sink in immediately. That I’d just know that they were right the moment we sat down. The voice in my head telling me that these women were wrong was far louder than the voice in my head telling me to get to know them before I made a judgement; thus was born the press’ favorite nickname, First Date Draco.”
Hermione wrapped her left arm around him and squeezed him in a horizontal hug. He was better than anyone would ever know.
“It only got harder when I was elected to office, of course, both because of the expectations that came with being me and the scrutiny that came with being a rich 30-year-old bachelor. There was one woman that mother set me up with... she told me she’d been a beard before for an actor, so she felt well-suited to marriage with me as long as I’d let her take trips with her friends to Europe. There was really no point in trying, not when I’d come home regretting spending time on failed attempts to find a wife rather than getting to know my colleagues and building up my staff once I’d come to Washington.
“Then I met you, sweet girl, and the judgemental voice in my head was quiet. I don’t know how to keep from being cheesy, Hermione, but it just seems to make sense to me despite everything that’s telling us we’re wrong for being together.”
She wasn’t surprised when Draco’s lips met hers, but smiled into the kiss nonetheless. It was a promise more than anything, a locking in of everything that he’d said to be honest and true.
“We aren’t wrong,” Hermione shook her head. “We make sense together, and I don’t expect everyone to understand. Do I wish I could believe that a majority of people will be happy for us? Certainly, but that’s not how the world works.”
“Not to turn this completely into a scene from The Notebook, but I agree, sweetheart. We’re going to have people in our corner, and at the end of the day, we can just continue to live how we’ve been living. The only difference is that I’ll get to show off my girl on dates and fly you down here to meet my constituents. Do you know how many old southern ladies are going to be pinching your cheeks and asking to pray for you at church on Sundays?”
Hermione’s laugh was a sound of pure joy, “I thought they were trying to set their granddaughters up with you? Won’t that ruin their diabolical plans?
“Some of them will certainly be upset, but most will simply be happy because I’m happy. And that’s what I’m going to focus on.”
“Thank you for sharing with me, Draco. It’s a bit weird, this part of relationships… telling each other how we feel and just hoping that the other will accept it as easily as they do our favorite color or least favorite food. I’m just grateful you make it so easy. This whole weekend… I needed this.”
‘I needed you’ was what she left unsaid.
“Feeling’s mutual, baby,” Draco smiled before pulling her fully onto his lap for a kiss. With the week that she’d had, she was more than happy to forget a world outside of just the two of them. So she kissed him back.