Brotherly Visits
Hermione sat at the end of the long Gryffindor table, flipping idly through her notes while waiting for lunch to begin. The chatter of students echoed through the Great Hall, but she barely noticed—her mind was still processing the latest Transfiguration essay McGonagall had assigned.
Then, a hush fell over the nearby students, and she looked up just as a familiar figure stepped through the grand doors.
"Harry!"
A wide grin broke across Hermione's face as she shot up from her seat. Within moments, she was wrapping her arms around her best friend, squeezing him tightly. He chuckled, hugging her back before pulling away to examine her.
"You look good, 'Mione," Harry said, smiling. "Happier."
She beamed. "I am happy."
His smile faltered slightly, but before he could say anything, his eyes flickered past her. Hermione turned just in time to see Draco Malfoy striding toward them, his expression unreadable, though there was a slight wariness in his gaze.
Harry straightened, his entire demeanor shifting into something more rigid, more Auror-like. When Draco stopped beside Hermione, Harry stepped forward until they were nearly toe-to-toe.
"Malfoy," Harry greeted, voice cool.
"Potter," Draco replied, tone just as measured.
There was a pause before Harry leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only Draco could hear. "If you hurt her—even once—I swear on my wand that I will personally see to it that you spend the rest of your life rotting in Azkaban."
Draco arched a single brow, tilting his head. "Well, that’s one way to say ‘welcome to the family.’"
Harry didn’t laugh. His gaze stayed hard, unwavering. "I mean it, Malfoy."
Draco met his stare without flinching. "I know you do. But you won’t have to worry, Potter. Hurting Hermione is the last thing I’d ever do."
Harry held his gaze for a long moment before finally nodding, seeming satisfied. He turned back to Hermione, his expression softening. "Come on, 'Mione. Let’s have lunch and catch up."
Hermione shot Draco an apologetic smile before looping her arm through Harry’s and leading him to sit down. As they ate, she filled him in on everything—her classes, her time at Hogwarts as an eighth-year, how different things felt now that the war was over. Harry listened attentively, occasionally making a joke or rolling his eyes when she went off on a tangent about a particularly interesting book she’d read.
Eventually, the topic of Draco came up.
"Are you really happy with him?" Harry asked, studying her carefully.
Hermione smiled softly, glancing toward the Slytherin table where Draco sat, pretending not to watch her. "Yes," she said simply. "He's changed, Harry. More than I ever thought possible. He treats me with respect, he listens to me, and he makes me feel… loved."
Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I won’t lie. It’s weird, Hermione. But… if he makes you happy, then I’ll trust you."
She squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Harry."
He smiled. "Just don’t expect me to start calling him Draco anytime soon."
Hermione laughed, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. Despite everything, she still had her best friend by her side—and that was more than enough.