The Scab
He was in the middle of an inter-departmental meeting when the patronus came through. It was a little wisp of a horse. At first, Malfoy wasn’t sure who was trying to send him a message at all, but he wasn’t surprised by the tone of Ginevra Zabini’s voice when it trotted in front of him.
“Malfoy,” The horse’s teeth moved eerily, “can you check out F&B’s? Your baby’s mother has not come home and I am starting to get concerned—,”
The entire department turned to look at him.
Malfoy’s face was enflamed with a blush so red that it looked like a rash.
“I can’t stand that nickname for Blaise,” Harry lied, trying to cover up the slip from Ginny. “Let’s go find him, partner. We ought to tell him to stop visiting Muggle strip—,” Harry’s voice cut off as they stepped into the hallway.
“Do you want me to go with you?”
Malfoy hadn’t stopped moving towards the front door to the Ministry. “Go see your ex-wife instead and see what all she knows about what Hermione was supposed to be doing today.”
Draco had a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Theo asked him earlier that morning if he knew where Hermione was — and while Draco expected he was going there to break up with Hermione, he hadn’t asked.
With a sudden terror in his stomach, he realized that he could have inadvertently sent the mother of his child to an early grave. Or she was seizing again and hadn’t been able to get to St. Mungo’s in time.
Shit. He stepped out into Diagon Alley. The new restrictions meant that there were no apparation points inside the alley, only a point at the Leaky and another at Knockturn Alley.
He sprinted down the street until he found the bookstore and slammed the front door open. “Granger?” He called.
“I’m here,” She called, voice hoarse.
Malfoy found her sitting on the stairs in between the two levels of the bookshop. It looked good in the bookshop, he thought, looking around between the purple velvet couches and the pink beaded curtains. It reminded him of Professor Trelawny — not that Hermione would have wanted to hear that.
“Everything alright?” He asked, claiming the portion of the stair next to her. “Ginevra sent a patronus. She said you were supposed to be home hours ago.”
“Right,” Hermione said softly. “I’m okay.”
Draco’s grey eyes roamed her face for a moment, taking in the red-rimmed eyes and the puffy skin just below them. “I take it you saw Nott, then.”
Hermione nodded. “He seemed so sure of himself.” Her voice was still soft, tenuous. “He seems to think there is no reversing the curse, period.”
Draco nodded.
“He’s also right in the fact that I can’t risk my daughter’s safety. He said he wasn’t sure that it would affect her, but she is…a half-blood.” Hermione wound a hand nervously in her hair. “I know that it didn’t last long, but it still hurts.”
Draco wasn’t sure what he could say to that. What he wanted to say and what he should have said were two very different things. He just let out a sigh. “You are entitled to your feelings of hurt, Granger.”
Hermione’s lip wobbled. “I know he is also right in saying my safety should not be risked…I am a person, too. I can’t live my life from a bed in St. Mungos all because I want to be loved by the person I love.”
Malfoy nodded again, wringing his hands together uncomfortably. “Rightfully so, Granger. Your daughter needs you.”
Hermione looked at him curiously, as if she was coming out of a cloud for the first time in a long while. “Is she just my daughter now?”
“It’s not about us right now, Granger. It’s about you and processing your feelings.”
He thought Hermione looked shocked by what he said, but she said nothing else. She just let out a little hum, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Do you want to go home?” He asked. “Ginevra seemed worried.”
Hermione nodded, “I need to clean up the place, get these paint cans out of here. Maybe after that.”
Malfoy wordlessly and wandlessly vanished the empty cans and rubbish. “Let’s go. Does the floo in here work?”
Hermione shook her head.
“We’ll go use the floos across the street then,” Malfoy said calmly. “I’ll see that you make it home and then I am going back to work.”
He wasn’t sure what it was about him that had called to the broken pieces in both Theo and Hermione. In this moment, rather than be secretly elated that his oldest friend was suffering, and rather than be excited that this meant he might have a chance going forward to try for the hand of Hermione Granger, he found himself quite sad for the pair of them.
If it couldn’t have been him, Draco thought that Theo was a fine choice for a woman like Hermione Granger. He was also alarmed to see just how much the spark had gone out in the usually fiery witch.
He knew with time that these wounds would close for the both of them. But for now, he felt like he needed to distance himself from her. The last thing he would want is to be the scab on the wound that was the ending of the relationship of Hermione Granger and Theodore Nott.