Fresh Out The Slammer
Hermione-Fresh Out The Slammer
Handcuffed to the spell I was under
For just one hour of sunshine
Years of labor, locks and ceilings
In the shade of how he was feeling
But it's gonna be alright, I did my time
Now pretty baby, I'm running back home to you
Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to
“Higher Angelica! Sharper on that pirouette Monica! Phillip what in Morgana's tits is that hand placement, you will drop your partner!” Hermione barked commands as she watched her students practice different steps to their program that Madamne Markova had choreographed. Did she expect herself to turn into a drill sergeant? No, no she did not however this particular age group was still attending Beauxbatons, so she only got to see them on wednesdays and the weekends. Honestly she had been very surprised to learn that Beauxbatons and the ministry approved floo travel for students, but the French wizards were very proud of their art.
It had been close to three hours and they were coming to the end of their week day session, which she was thankful for because she was starving. Hermione wondered if Theo or Harry had taken the initiative to make dinner, then she dashed the thought almost immediately. She loved her roommates, but she could only eat so much take out. She was heavily considering how freaked out the boys would be if she came home with an air fryer.
“All right, let’s do some cool down stretches and you’re released” Hermione spoke, making sure her french was still fluent through her own shortness of breath. When she had taken the job she was scared she’d be out of her element, though Madame Markova had been sold on her anyways (she hated to admit that it was probably her war heroine status). With a leap of Gryffondor bravery, Hermione had accepted the job, never expecting that she herself would be getting a workout every class.
One thing she did think Madame Markova had right though was having Hermione lead her students through stretches and new routines. She felt like it really helped her connect to her students and vice versa. Hermione flexed her pointe shoes, stretching her toes as her students packed up their bags. Another thing about wizarding ballet: thank Merlin for numbing spells!
As her students filed out, calling their goodbyes, a certain auror waltzed into her classroom. “Who knew Hermione Granger would be the Snape of ballet” Was the first thing out of the cheeky man’s mouth.
“Who knew Draco Malfoy had a death wish” Hermione glared back. “Honestly McGonagall I’ll accept, but Snape!” she had not insulted a student once! Thank you very much.
In a maudlin move, Draco flashed his tattooed forearm, “obviously” he drawled in his best Snape impression. The room was silent for a beat before both of them let out a light laugh. “You know Granger-” Hermione cut him off with another glare, “Hermione” he amended, “You got to see me play quidditch, I think it may be time I cash in my ticket to your performance”
Hermione snorted, “Oh I can give you a performance alright” before she slapped a hand over her mouth. She’d been spending way too much time with Theo for a sexual innuendo like that to pop out of her mouth. Hermione took her chance and turned to look at Draco again, only to see him sporting a very impish looking smirk.
“And what type of performance are we talking, hmm?” Draco lifted a perfectly sculpted pale brow in her direction.
She drew a hand down over her dance attire. “Mr.Malfoy, do pay attention. Why a ballet performance of course”
“Well let’s see it, Hermione” Draco plopped into one of the two chairs she kept in her room and crossed his arms over his stupidly broad chest. Morgana’s tits, of course he had to look right fit in his auror robes.
Hermione thought she should’ve felt nervous, but all she felt was giddiness as she pointed the remote towards the stereo system. The musical variation for the Queen of Dryads from Don Quixote turned on and Hermione took position. It was a very toned down version of the real variation, but Hermione felt the music flow through her as she danced one of her mum's favorite ballet solos.
She twirled around the studio, all her surroundings blending around her as she focused on each step. Dancing, truly dancing with no expectations or pressure on her, reminded her of her childhood. As she looked in the mirror it felt like she’d see a little, curly haired girl in a pink leotard with a pudgy tummy staring back at her.
As the music ended, Hermione looked back at Draco, only to see he was blurry. Quickly, she wiped her tears and shot the man in the chair, a smile. “Ta-da” she wiggled her fingers in a jazz hand motion.
“Well I think my theory was right” Draco said, ignoring her little tears which she was thankful for.
“And-what-was-that” Hermione said through heavy breaths.
Draco chewed his lip for a second, knowing he was drawing the moment out. “I am now definitely a fan of ballet” Thankfully, Hermione’s cheeks were already red from her exertion, but she knew she’d be fucking blushing again at his words.
Dropping to the ground Hermione pulled her pointe shoes off and began the process of taking off her tape and spacers. “It was one of my mother’s favorite variations” She explained, wanting to share the information, wanting to actually talk about her parents without Ronald saying she needed to get over it.
She saw Draco shift out of the corner of her eye and then heard him clear his throat. “Harry told me about their accident. I was sorry to hear about it. It resonated with Potter, Theo, and I quite a bit. I remember some of your dreams about them” Hermione looked up at him again to find Draco looking at the ground, hands in his pockets. She’d been so far down in her own grief she had never thought if it would upset Harry, to see his friend orphaned just as he was.
“I- you remember those?” was all Hermione could say before getting her mind together and slipping on her flannel pants and booties. It wasn’t wild of him to remember some of her night terrors about her parents dying. It wasn’t crazy of him to hear of Hermione’s parents and be upset about it either after losing his wife, leaving his sons without a mother. But hearing both events coming from him shocked her, she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to Draco giving information up freely.
He held a hand out to help her up. “I remember a lot of things. It just depends on if they’re good or bad that makes me want to talk about them”
Hermione quickly gathered her things, ready to turn in for the night before looking at Draco again. “Are you going to tell me what’s brought you here?” Hermione queried. Draco followed her out the door and into the lobby where she waved goodbye to the receptionist, Claire.
“Well Theodore thinks me an errand boy and asked that I stop by the apothecary for some more potions ingredients” Draco shrugged, pulling his wool jacket closer to him.
“And you had to go to the one on the outskirts of town?” Hermione bumped his arm with her shoulder. “If you wanted an excuse to see me, all you had to do was ask” she teased, but secretly hoping she was right.
Draco stopped his walking and turned to her, running a hand through his already tousled hair. “Always one to show that Gryffindor bluntness” he mumbled, more to himself than her. “You were right”
“Right about-” Hermione started but Draco cut her off.
“Wanting to see you” he finished. He licked his lips and looked off into the busy street before looking back at her. “I know you just got out of a relationship and I’ve been horrid to you most of our lives-”
“Draco you know I’ve been over that-” she started to argue.
“Just listen, please” he looked at her, his lips in a flat line. “You’ve just gotten out of a long relationship with the weasel and we’ve hardly talked about our lives since- since that last year and I don’t want you to feel pressured and the boys too. The boys are a commitment Hermione and I’m-” he gave a derisive laugh “I’m dropping all this on you without even asking you out first”
Hermione couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped past her lips. “Draco” she put her hand on his arm, “Do you truly think I haven’t thought about any of that before I started flirting with you?”
“Well… no” he said, looking a bit sheepish that just made her heart warm.
“Exactly, regarding Ronald, I’m very happy to be out of my relationship with him. It might not be a long time, but my relationship was dead long before it ended. I’m free and I’d like to do, away from that git” insulting Ron would never fail to get Draco to crack a smile and Hermione gave a smile of her own. “And if you’d like to talk about eighth year…I’m willing to listen, you’ve already apologized and I’ve accepted. I also will tell you now that whether things worked out, in a romantic sense between us, those sweet boys of yours already have my heart”
“Have you eaten yet?” Draco cocked his head to one of the restaurants they had stopped in front of.
“No, I haven’t. Are you hungry?” The lamplights twinkled, reflecting off his hair, adding to his beauty in a way that she hoped he saw in her too.
“I’m absolutely famished” Draco held his hand out, “Hermione Granger, would you be my date for tonight?”
“You have terrible timing” she motioned to her outfit again, “but I would love to” Hermione took his hand and walked into the restaurant.
xXx
For a weeknight at around 7:30 it was fairly slow inside, despite the street crawling with people. Hermione was also happy to note that it was not a fine dining establishment but similar to the Three Broomsticks.
Taking up a corner booth, the couple was approached by a barmaid very quickly. Which was another thing Hermione was also happy about, she did catch the barmaid giving Draco a second look which of course he didn’t catch. Leave it to a Slytherin to still be oblivious, she did suppose he was a man after all.
“Where are the twins tonight?” Hermione asked, sipping on a glass of fae wine that was very well deserved after her ballet performance.
“With their godfathers, though I’m sure Harry is doing much more of the heavy lifting. Theo was shoulders deep in a cauldron when I left, hence me being sent out like a house elf” Draco said, taking his own pull of firewhiskey.
Despite the proper table manners she was taught, Hermione put her elbow on the table and leaned her head on her hand. “And will you be telling me about this project of yours?” Something about the movement seemed to ease Draco a bit because she saw his shoulders fully relax, his picture perfect posture now slumping a bit. She was sure somewhere that Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy were having a fit over decorum and many other courting rules that would make a common class citizen cry.
“One day, when we actually get it to work” Draco promised and Hermione held back her tongue at offering her own services. Whatever it was, Theodore was very, very secretive about it. Even Harry wasn’t told about what the Nott and Malfoy heir’s were working on.
The barmaid was back now, carrying their bowls of coq au vin, her skirt now suspiciously higher. Draco thanked the woman in french and Hermione had to tell her lady bits to calm down. “So have you decided how long you’re planning to stay in France?” Draco asked once they were alone again.
It was a fair question, and one she had no answer to. “I owled Kings before I left England and am on an undetermined time of personal leave. To put it bluntly” she said using his earlier term of ‘Gryffindor bluntness’, “my parents left me a hefty inheritance. I may not be as rich as you, but I’m not in the poor house either. I’ve also quickly grown fond of my new job”
“And that’s all that may be keeping you here?” Draco asked, playing with fire.
“Well there may be a certain boy or two”, she took a deep sip of her wine and shrugged, “we’ll see. It’s not like many people are missing me back home”
Draco’s brows furrowed, “I don’t believe that, Hermione”
Hermione set her spoon back down in her bowl, “You should. None of you have been back in years but it’s… well it’s lonely. It was probably my fault, I was so convinced if I put all my focus on my relationship that it would get better and it pushed all the friends I did have, away. All it did was make me lose part of myself instead, but I’m free from that spell now”
Draco watched her as she took another few bites of her food, “You’re sure this really isn’t too soon for you?”
“I appreciate the concern, but truly, no. If anything I’m more upset at the years of labor I put in just to be betrayed by his cheating arse, but I’m in no way upset it’s over. It-well it sounds silly, but I ran away from home to Paris and somehow it feels like I ran home instead” Hermione explained.
Draco just stared at her, his lips slightly parted. “I’m sorry for running”
Hermione roughly swallowed her coq au vin. She had said they could talk about eighth year and now that it was being brought up, she wanted to cry instead. “The letter” she almost whispered. Draco nodded. “Yes, the letter”
“You said you meant it” Hermione said, sitting up straight in her seat.
Draco took a deep breath, his shoulders tense again “And that wasn’t a lie, I was and am sorry for my rotten behavior as a child. It was unacceptable and I’m really not sure how I got you to agree to be here tonight” she did suppose his nice quidditch arse helped him convince her, not that she needed much convincing in the first place.
“That entire year was a struggle that I fear I wouldn’t have gotten through without you. And I know we never talked, there was never a sign that something would have happened, but it scared me anyways” Draco paused and downed the rest of his firewhiskey. “I didn’t deserve you then and I had so much growing up to do. At the time I thought it was best to write the letter and leave”
Hermione stared at him owlishly, her heart beating faster than a thestrals wings. “I felt it” she confirmed, her mind whirling at his confirmation that something had been there. It was a confirmation that she hadn’t been crazy, that she hadn’t clung onto something imaginary for years. She blinked rapidly, “I felt it” she said again, “I sent you a letter back but it never delivered”
“Merlin, I’m sorry Hermione but I can’t regret how things worked out” Draco said and a weight lifted off her chest. She couldn’t bring herself to regret it either, it had been for the best that they’d parted. He had been engaged and neither of them had even known and she needed more time to heal. Her parents had died and she had gone mute as their deaths finally made her mourn not just them, but her entire childhood and a war.
Hermione reached for his hand across from the table, “without you leaving, we would’ve never found Paris” he squeezed back and his shoulders relaxed for a second time. Picking back up her spoon, Hermione let go of the past.
“Can you imagine Snape in pointe shoes and tights?” she questioned, moving onto a much lighter, though gross, topic. Draco dropped his spoon back in his bowl, pushing the meal away. “I think I’m full now” he said, grimacing. Hermione cackled, gleefully pushing another spoonful of food into her own mouth.
Topics stayed light as the night wore on. They talked about his time in auror training, his first meeting with Harry, and how Draco got to watch Harry and Theo check each other out when they thought the other wasn’t looking for months before they started dating. Hermione talked about her childhood, how much she had missed dancing, and how she had become disappointed in her job with the British Ministry.
Conversation flowed so easily, she didn’t have to worry if she was too much to handle or if she’d hurt Draco’s feelings. When they reached the front steps of the Nott residence, Draco bent down and kissed her with so much determination that she was relieved to know he was in this just as much as she was. He was pulling away, his hands on the back of her neck when Hermione grabbed him by the collar of his robes and snogged the proper starlight out of the both of them. It took them another five minutes just to get through the door, and that only been because Theo had sent a little squirrel patronus telling Draco to hand over his potions ingredients.
As Draco gathered the boys, he promised to see her again soon, giving her a goodnight kiss on the cheek that both his sons also insisted on giving her. Hermione then trudged to her room and held Draco’s letter again. She hadn’t been delusional or reading too far in between the lines. As she stared at the letter again, Hermione knew Draco had been right in leaving. Because now they had done their time, and as muggle saying went, she knew who her first call had been to.