Chapter 3
Memories of Hermione were physically making Draco’s heart hurt. His chest felt like it was breaking all over again and the pain of that was entirely too much to bear. After failing to show up for his second session of physical therapy, Draco decided to drown his sorrows in a bottle of Ogden’s and then some cheap muggle whisky he found in the cupboard. It dulled the ache, the constant feeling of someone ripping through his ribs to tear his heart and shred it into tiny pieces.
Said ache was nothing compared to the pounding in his head the following morning. Two Pepper Up potions later and he was standing lifeless in his kitchen. His thoughts were interrupted momentarily by the scratching of a beak on the window. He opened it, received his paper and allowed the owl to collect some food before shutting it behind the creature.
Skipping to the back, news of the English team making the World Cup had flooded the sports section. Skimming over the useless headings, nothing caught his eye. Until a smaller heading. Fine print. Something people would notice, would surely read.
Draco Malfoy: Adulterer Taken to St Mungo’s Infirmary After Catastrophic Fall
Hermione would never believe he didn’t cheat on her. It was truly, a huge misunderstanding. But, it had been orchestrated and there was no denying someone had been out to hurt one of them. Who exactly was that? He had no earthly idea. Sure, a lot of people disliked him – okay hated him – but he never thought one of them would be so profoundly annoyed that he had found happiness.
His headache returned with a vengeance. His name bringing a black mark to something again. Merlin, he could never be free. There was only one way to stop this and shortly realising he didn’t have the brainpower to figure this out by himself, he called for reinforcements.
Pansy, Theo and Blaise showed up to his house not long after he had Floo called them. Describing that he was hellbent on rectifying this Gods awful situation, they agreed to meet at his.
“Thanks for coming, I know I’ve probably taken you away from your day but quite frankly, I can’t do this alone.” Draco had made a pot of coffee, the muggle way, and poured them all a cup each.
“What’s brought this on?” Theo asked.
Draco hadn’t realised until the allegations came out just how much his best friends loved him. How much they would stand by him through anything. He didn’t know why he was surprised considering they shared a common past and common traumas, but it did.
“I got a referral after my injury at the qualifiers.”
“And why are we just hearing about this now? You said you were fine! Sent home with a healing potion and didn’t let us in to visit!” Pansy screeched.
“It was for physical therapy. With Granger.” The table fell silent, Draco was sure he could hear the dust settling on top of the kitchen cabinets.
“Oh dear.”
“Yes, and while it is so much fun sitting in your ex-wife’s office while she wants to gut you, I need to know who ruined my marriage. I need—” he took a breath, steadying himself to show a little vulnerability. “It’s fucked everything. Seeing her and being with her has sent my flying back on my arse to square one.”
Of course, he would never tell anyone else how much he missed her and how much he actually needed her. He knew people thought him to be emotionless, heartless probably. It was never a bother to him, there was worse things happening in the world but losing her was a pain he would never be able to convey to anyone else.
“They called me an adulterer in the paper this morning. Allegations like that could be ridiculously unfair on the team so, I am fixing it.”
They all knew the facts of the supposed cheating, but ultimately decided to start at the beginning again. “Okay. Let’s put our heads together. Bullet point the facts,” Blaise decided.
“I don’t think anyone hates me that much to try and ‘ruin me’. Other than my mother when I wouldn’t marry that Russian but how and ever.” Pansy raised a singular brow before continuing. “Although, it makes sense they would choose cheating as the way to break you up. You know, considering how you and Granger actually began dating.”
“Pans, could’ve been a bit more sensitive,” Theo chastised.
“She’s right, to be fair.” Draco sighed. “Fucking hell, where to begin then?”
“The beginning mate, we can only try.”
“I stayed a night in Glasgow with the quidditch team. The Scotland versus England annual friendly was on a Friday night last year and Hermione couldn’t make it because she had a research project going on. She didn’t want to risk being away for too long in case results came in. They ended up coming in on the day I got home. I spoke to her before the warm-up, she was staying with Red and Potter for the night and they were redecorating for James to have his own room and give Teddy his own when he came to stay or some shite. I then phoned her after the game, saying I was going for a shower and straight to bed and I’d Floo home the next afternoon.
‘The guys had decided to go out in Glasgow, kept going on about a muggle nightclub they wanted to go to. The girls went to a country themed bar, except from Polly, she was Deakins assistant that season. Never allowed to do anything with the rest of the team, never out of his sight really. She was three rooms down and coincidentally has black hair. Room service was still running so I texted Hermione and told her I would order her favourite. I answered the door in my towel, which in hindsight – which is a truly wonderful and yet awful thing – I shouldn’t have done.”
Draco ran a hand through his hair, sipping his coffee. “I went to sleep early. Polly chapped and woke me up for breakfast and we headed down. I ate, packed my room up and then we came home. Hermione was in the hospital, getting her research results and gathering all the information to take to the board. She came home around eight, we had dinner together and went to bed.
‘Little did I know someone had taken photographs of me coming out of the room in my towel to get room service and paired them with the photographs of Polly waking me up the following morning. The particularly bad one is when I’m waving her down the hall in my shorts. I supposed I looked happy or whatever. The pictures got sold to the Daily Prophet.
‘The following morning we had went to go get breakfast when the paper got dropped off. There was nothing to indicate my life was going to blow up on the front cover or I would’ve said something. Said anything to tell her what to expect. Prepared her or something.”
“You couldn’t have known, there was literally nothing on the front cover which come to think of it, is weird. You’d think they wanted to blow it up right there and then,” Theo mused. Draco hadn’t realised that before.
“It was the next morning they were front news right?” Blaise asked.
“Yeah, yeah it was.”
“It was assumed that the girl in black was me, because I was also in Scotland. I wasn’t in Glasgow; I was in Inverness, but I had no proof. No one knew I was going. Leoch Estate got in touch the weekend before and I went from one job to the other. I was there for a week, no contact with anyone, I suppose it looked a bit guilty.” Pansy almost sounded sorry. “Granger is meant to be smart though, should’ve used her big brain.” Never mind, she wasn’t sorry.
“Do you have a copy of the paper?” Blaise asked.
“Somewhere, let me look.”
Draco stood from the table, heading to the biggest spare bedroom. There were boxes everywhere from stuff he had tried to get rid of in the first few weeks of the breakup when it was evident Hermione was not returning. It was a violent mess, shoes she had left and old books she loved. He had planned to vanish it all, cast a concentrated Diffendo or something but there was a slither of hope for some sort of friendship? If that were even possible. At this moment, it didn’t seem all that likely.
He pulled a grey fabric box from the bottom of the wardrobe hidden behind the shoes. His hand hovered over it until he got a grip of himself. You are Draco bloody Malfoy, grow a pair. He snapped his head into gear, opening the box. Pictures lay on the top, still ones Hermione had taken from a camera The-Boy-Who-Survived-Twice bought her for a Christmas. Ones of them in France in Narcissa’s beach house, ones from their first Christmas at the Manor, the first time she held a housewarming party. He lifted them all out, revealing the deadly paper nestled at the bottom.
“Fucking hell,” he sighed, shoving the box back into the wardrobe and making his way back downstairs. “Got it, feel free to look because I quite frankly don’t want to.”
Pansy took the paper, flicking through to the page. “Gods, how could she ever think that was me? Look at the kinks in the back of her hair! And the roots coming in! She’s not even a natural black headed beauty like me.”
“Pansy, you know that you’re beautiful, but this is not about ‘your’ haircut right now,” Theo lectured her. He received a rather rude finger gesture in return.
The group sat in silence, just thinking. They had no leads, no beginnings and the ending certainly was not in sight.
“How was the physical therapy?” Blaise asked. “Apart from the whole seeing your ex-wife and nearly having a stroke thing. Sorry.” He added that as an afterthought.
“It was intense, sore. Very fucking uncomfortable. Doctors said that I’ve to take six weeks out, see where we are when we get there.”
“What did dickhead Deakins say?”
“He was alright about it actually. He watched the guy batter the bludger off me.”
“That’s good then? You’re not out of commission?”
“Nah. I should be back for the World Cup. If not the quarters at least the semis. Deakins was less alright about me being distracted about my bloody situation.”
“Has Red not said anything? Let on about anything?” Pansy asked. “If anyone knows anything, my guess is on her. We don’t exactly talk now so…”
“Yes well, she’s not exactly thrilled about me being in such close proximity to me. Don’t get me wrong, she is civil. We don’t talk about Granger, I learned that the hard way one time and ended up with a swollen eye for a week,” Draco scoffed. Theo just laughed. “I’m serious, no amount of glamour would cover it.”
The group moved on from the sombre and touchy subject of Draco’s love life and onto happier subjects.
Theo Nott, the genius man had finished his Potions Masters and was working in the Department of Mysteries. Being an Unspeakable meant he had to be elusive with detail, and you never really knew what was going on with his work, but he tried his best. From what Draco could gather, there was research being made for the Department of Law Enforcement, enhancements possibly? Very little detail was ever told.
Pansy Parkinson had created her own decorative business straight out of Hogwarts, specialising in high clientele with budgets upwards of fifty-thousand galleons. A hundred thousand if she was honest. Her life had been planned for her, an arranged marriage was waiting for her straight out of eighth year but in true Pansy Parkinson style, she took orders off of no one. The Russian her mother had lined up for her did not take this rejection lightly and so, Pansy lost her inheritance. Everything in the Parkinson estate went to some of their relatives in France. So, she built a new name. She was bloody good at it.
Blaise Zabini had opened an enterprise, starting his own accountancy firm working with both wizarding and muggle companies as well as individuals, learning the way of taxes in both worlds. He had a slow start. Pansy and Draco were his only clients for a while until the Leaky Cauldron nearly went bankrupt thanks to an embezzling manager. Blaise took over, buying them out and getting it back in order. Word spread from there and business grew steadily.
They all had such busy lives; it was rare now for them to all be in the one place for any length of time. A sad sight really, considering how close they all used to be. Draco had training six days a week which only left time for him to relax and recover until he had to repeat it all again the next week.
“I saw Marcus Flint,” Theo mentioned, ripping the paper bag he held, open. Draco’s friends had been there since eleven in the morning and with it being close to one o’clock, Theo and Pansy had elected to go and grab some food from a small coffee shop they all knew in London.
“Haven’t seen him in, Gods it might actually be years,” Blaise said. “He say much?”
“Nope. It was a very quick ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’. Thank Merlin, his aftershave hasn’t changed. Oh, he smelled delicious!” Pansy actually looked a bit green. The boys just laughed.
“Is he still seeing Oliver Wood?” Draco asked. It had been a surprise to say the least when the two had made their relationship official. Of course, it was celebrated, and Draco was weirdly proud of people he kept no regular contact with.
Theo choked on his coffee, so much so that Blaise actually had to slap his back three times for him to regain his breath. Draco knew of a night the two had spent together, fairly recently which he was a little ashamed of and didn’t want the rest of them to know. “Sorry, went down funny. But erm, no I don’t believe he is.”
“Okay… moving swiftly on. I have a new gig for a top paying person,” Pansy all but squealed. “An actor!”
“An actor?”
“An actor. He is in those things that we used to watch on big hair’s box thing.”
Blaise and Theo audibly sucked in a tight breath, Draco’s eyes narrowing. “You can still refer to her as Granger, thanks bob hair,” Draco hissed.
“Okay. Point taken. Moving swifty on, again. He is redecorating his beach condo in, drum roll please.” The boys started tapping their fingers on the table. “Los Angeles! I leave at the end of the month for three months.”
Draco knew he always had something to say, but this left him speechless. “Wow, go Pansy.”
“I know right! Which means we have to sort all of this nonsense with Granger before I go. So, we need a plan.”
Theo unfolded the paper again, reading the article.
'In a shocking turn of events, Draco Malfoy, prominent figure in the Quidditch world and former Death Eater, has been caught in a compromising situation that is sure to send shockwaves through the wizarding community. The Daily Prophet has exclusively obtained a photograph of Malfoy leaving the private quarters of an unidentified dark-haired woman at the upscale Crestwood Hotel in Glasgow city centre late two nights ago.
‘This sighting raises serious questions about the nature of Malfoy’s relationship with this unknown witch. Could there be more than meets the eye? The timing of this encounter is particularly intriguing, given that Malfoy is currently married to the wizarding world’s saviour, Hermione Malfoy nee Granger.
‘The identity of the mysterious brunette has sent the wizarding world into a frenzy of speculation. Could it be an affair, or merely a private meeting between friends? One name that has surfaced among the gossip is none other than Pansy Parkinson, a long-time acquaintance of Malfoy and a former Slytherin classmate at Hogwarts. If it is indeed Pansy Parkinson, the implications are particularly interesting given her close ties to both Mr Malfoy and Mrs Malfoy.
‘Hermione Malfoy nee Granger, known for her tireless work in St Mungo’s and her recent research work with Cambridge University, has yet to comment on this scandalous development. Friends close to Granger describe her as focused and committed to her work, though whispers suggest that this latest incident may cause tensions to flare between the former couple.
Pansy Parkinson, for her part, has not been seen publicly since the story broke, adding fuel to the fire of speculation. Could her silence be an indication of something more, or is she simply avoiding the media circus that often accompanies Malfoy’s every move?
Whatever the truth may be, one thing is certain: this scandal will be the talk of the wizarding world for weeks to come. Stay tuned for further updates as we delve deeper into the mystery surrounding Draco Malfoy’s late-night rendezvous.'
Draco’s mind whirled as Theo read the article again. He very badly wanted to smash the whole place up, but it was a nice house. He had good taste, and he could sprain his dodgy muscle further by doing it. That wouldn’t help anyone.
“Such bullshit,” Theo remarked, sitting the paper down.
“Tell me about it,” Draco sighed.
“Look, doesn’t the Daily Prophet keep their sources and their information? They manage to drag things up four, five years after shit’s went down. Unless they don’t ever change their staffing, I’m certain there’s a good chance that we’ll be able to talk to someone who received it.”
“What about confidentiality rules or some nonsense?” Theo questioned.
Draco scoffed. “I don’t think that’s a thing to be honest. They’re all rats.”
“I’ll arrange a meeting with the owner,” Blaise said. “I know it’s technically Ministry handled but I’m sure the paper office will be able to speak to me. I can go in with the intention of offering my services.”
Draco agreed, for the pure fact that they had no other ideas a no other leads. It was at least a step one.