Notes of Affection

January 3, 2004

Hermione and Pansy had flooed to Pansy’s office and were headed to Marc Buckley’s office when Pansy’s phone rang. 

She answered it.  “What do you want, Theo? I’m about to go into a meeting, so make it quick.”

Hermione could barely make out what the Slytherin was saying on the other end. All she could hear was something about a birthday, but she could really only hear Pansy’s side.

“Well, you know he hates surprises, so I don't know how you came to the conclusion that throwing Blaise a surprise birthday party would be a good idea… Fine, Theo… Yes, I’ll help, but it has to wait… Okay, I’ll come by later and we can discuss… Yeah, yeah I know… Bye.” 

After hanging up, Pansy put her phone in her back pocket and went on like nothing happened. Hermione looked at her curiously. 

Pansy could feel her staring and asked, “What?”

Hermione snapped her head forward. “Nothing. I guess I just never hear you talk about Theo or Blaise often. Theo seems nice.”

Pansy scoffed a laugh. “They’re pains in my ass, but I love them like brothers.”

“I know the feeling,” Hermione smiled. “That’s how Harry and I are, too.”

They came to a stop before Buckley’s door and Pansy looked over at Hermione, “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

The meeting started and was going as Hermione expected. They were currently planning out a timeline for recording and releasing music. 

Hermione piped up, “I currently have about twenty songs written and ready to be reworked with more instrumentals and backing tracks.” 

Both Pansy and Buckley snapped their heads to Hermione, their eyes wide with confusion and surprise.

“What? I’ve been writing since I was fifteen. I’m twenty-four. I’ve had almost ten years to build it up.”

Mr. Buckley spoke up, “I’m quite impressed, Ms. Granger. I’ve never had an artist come in with an album's worth of music written already.”

“Thank you, sir,” Hermione said shyly.

“Oh, how many times do I need to tell you?! It’s just Marc,” he said jokingly.

“Right, sorry… Marc,” she said with a smile.

They all laughed, but for Hermione, it would take time to become acclimated to being welcomed here. With belonging here.

“So, now that we know you have plenty of material, I think we should start focusing on two or three songs to release as singles. Y’know, to get your name in people’s heads, and get them excited for a full album,” Marc said. 

Hermione thought about his words, but she just kept hearing those words. 

Your name.

She didn’t love the idea of people knowing her name. Not necessarily the whole world. Everyone in the wizarding world already knew her name, but she wanted to enjoy this venture on her own, without the connotation of “war heroine, Hermione Granger” following her around.

“Speaking of my name… I– I don’t think I want to go by my name,” Hermione said shyly. 

Pansy had told Hermione that Marc is aware of the wizarding world, even though he is a muggle. Apparently, most of the presidents and CEOs of big companies are. She also had told Hermione that Marc knows that she is a witch, but is still unaware about Hermione being one. She wanted Hermione to be able to decide for herself if she wanted him to know.

Marc asked, “May I ask why? I mean it’s not uncommon for people to go by a different name, but I am curious.”

“Well… I’m pretty well known where I come from,” she glanced over to Pansy nervously, who was watching Marc, and then Hermione looked too and saw the understanding in his face, “and if I become successful and people like my music, I want it to be for my talent. Not for my name.”

Hermione looked over to see Pansy now observing her with understanding before she asked the all-important question. “Do you know what name you want to go by?”

Hermione thought about it. Before she found out she was a witch, she would always dress up with a fake microphone and put on “concerts” for her parents. She had a whole alter ego to go with it. She would put on this blonde costume wig and sing her heart out pretending to be an American singer. The name of that character she played came to mind.

“Taylor Swift,” Hermione said unequivocally. 

They all smiled proudly.

When Hermione went home that night, the first thing she did was call her mom and dad to update them.

Somehow, after the war, they broke through her spell. How they did it, she would never understand, but she was so glad that they did. She couldn’t wait to share this with them.

Today was the first day that Draco and Harry would officially be working together on the case that Tonks assigned them to. 

Draco was nervous but excited to be needed again.

“Morning. Ready to get started?” Potter asked as Draco entered the conference room. 

“Born ready, Potter,” he said as he sipped his coffee. 

Potter laughed and sat on the edge of the table, staring at the whiteboard of crime scene photos and suspects. 

“Do we have any leads?” Draco asked, taking up a spot next to Potter. 

“Not really. I’ve been trying to find a connection in these murders, but there isn’t one. At least, not an obvious one,” Potter conceded. 

“Let’s go over what we know so far. It’s a Deatheater. We know they’re killing muggles. We know –” Draco looked over at Potter, he was lost in his thoughts, brimming with nervous energy.

Draco bumped his shoulder to get his attention. When Potter looked over Draco continued, “And we know that Voldemort is dead. And he is never coming back. Ever. You made sure of that, Potter. You all did.” 

Potter looked back at the whiteboard and sighed, not fully convinced by Draco's words. “But what if he isn’t? He came back once already, what if he can do it again?” 

Draco began examining the board. 

“He won’t. He’s gone.”

Something on this board seemed familiar, but Draco couldn’t figure out what.

It was these dates. Something about them seemed familiar, like he used to know what they meant, but he didn’t anymore. 

June 24th. June 30th. September 1st. October 31st. December 31st. 

Potter noticed Draco’s extended silence and saw him staring at the board. “Malfoy, what do you see?” 

“Potter, I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but have you noticed that the day that your parents were killed is on this board?”

Both men were staring at the board now. 

“Yeah, I noticed. But it’s probably a coincidence. That’s also Halloween night. I’d honestly be surprised if it weren’t on this list.” 

Draco guessed that made sense, but it didn’t explain other dates that stuck out to him. 

He walked up to the board and pointed out a date. December 31st.

“What about this one? Do you recognize this date?” 

“New Year’s Eve?” Potter asked noncommittally.

“Yes, but that’s not why it’s here. That’s the day Voldemort was born,” Draco said clearly. 

The mood in the room shifted. Like things just got more serious. 

Potter straightened. “So what about the other dates? Do you recognize any of those?”

Draco looked back at the dates and really thought. After a minute, he felt a shiver run down his spine, like cold water had been dumped on him. 

June 30th. 

He kept his eyes on the board, not able to face Potter. “Just one.”

It was time for this incredibly difficult conversation. Draco pointed the date out on the board. “June 30th. The day Dumbledore was killed.” 

Draco turned his head to gauge Potter’s reaction, but he was examining the other dates. 

Potter was thinking about the dates for many moments. “June 24th. That’s the day Cedric was killed. That’s the day Voldemort was reborn.”

Why was Potter not acknowledging this? While Draco may not have cast the spell, he was the reason Dumbledore was dead. 

Potter continued, “So these all must be dates that were important to Voldemort and his followers.”

Draco snapped out of his spiral. “Yeah, it would seem that way.”

“Do you have any idea what September 1st could be?”

“No, but I know a place where we could find out.” Draco looked back to Potter. “Feel like a field trip to Malfoy Manor?”

Draco and Harry walked out of the fireplace and into Malfoy Manor. Tilly appeared with a pop, her blue dress swaying, “Master Draco! And Mr. Harry Potter! We was not expecting you back this early, Master. Would Master Draco and Mr. Potter care for lunch?”

The men chuckled lightly with delight. “It’s good to see you, too, Tilly. We’re just heading into the library for a little while. You won’t even know were here,” Draco told the house elf.

“Thank you, but I think we’re okay on lunch for now, but if we change our minds, you’ll be the first to know,” Potter told Tilly as she nodded fervently. 

They started walking down the hall when Draco stopped and turned back toward Tilly. “Oh, Tilly? We,” he moved his hand between him and Potter, “are not here.” He pointed to the ceiling, to the floors above, the woman above, and put his forefinger over his mouth, telling Tilly to keep quiet. Tilly nodded and disappeared with a pop. Draco and Harry continued on their way to the library.

The last thing Draco wanted was to deal with Astoria more than he absolutely had to. If he could avoid seeing her until after his working hours were over, he would. 

The fact that Draco had to avoid her in his own house was so frustrating. He didn’t even realize that he had been silently stewing until Potter asked him about it.

“What’s she like, Astoria?”

Draco glanced over to Potter, trying to see what his intention was in asking. “She’s… fine. Exactly what you’d expect from a “perfect pureblood wife”,”  the last part dripping with sarcasm.

Potter regarded him for a few seconds and Draco could feel him staring. “Malfoy, I don’t mean to sound rude, but… why Astoria? If she’s anything like she was in school…” 

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I never really did,” Draco sighed softly then went silent. 

Both men were quiet as they continued down the hallways, going up staircases and passing old portraits on their way to the library. 

Draco mustered the courage to give Potter a real answer. “My father made a deal with Alaric Greengrass, her father. I was betrothed to her in third year. Have been ever since. I always thought I’d die before having to see it through,” Draco looked down, picking with the skin around his nails, “but alas, here I am.” 

Potter just nodded in understanding, neither man needing to say anything else. 

They came to a stop in front of a set of ornate wooden double doors. “Well, here we are,” Draco pushed open the doors. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Potter’s eyes go wide and fill with awe. 

“This library is the most extensive in the Eastern Hemisphere. If there’s anything we need for this case, chances are it’s in here somewhere .”

Potter just nodded silently, still shocked by the sheer size of the library. He walked further into the stacks and spun slowly, gazing around at how extensive the library truly was. Without thinking he whispered quietly under his breath, more to himself than to Draco, “Hermione would love it here,” almost forgetting Draco’s presence.

Draco heard him. He was quiet for a few moments and sighed to himself. “She did,” he said absently. He felt Potter look over at him and study him. Both men went silent.

Astoria never came in here. No one really did anymore. Not because it was off-limits or anything, but because… well, no one other than Hermione ever cared enough to. This was her favorite place in the entire manor, besides the gardens,  and no one had really been in here since. Draco came here every now and then, when he was feeling especially heavyhearted. This place reminded him so much of her. 

“The section that would be able to help up is this way,” Draco said after pulling himself from his thoughts and he led Potter to the left side of the room. 

The two men spent several hours looking through thick, dusty tomes but found nothing. They were currently seated at a table in the back of the room, still searching through books. 

“Maybe it’s not a recent date? Maybe it’s an older one?” Potter suggested.

“Maybe it’s events in Voldemort’s life, specifically?” Draco offered.

Potter snapped his fingers in acknowledgment, “That would track. The dates that we identified were important to his rise to power, maybe the other one is, too.”

Draco was about to respond when the door to the library burst open.

“Draco Malfoy! I have been looking everywhere for you! I had to bribe Tilly with fifty galleons just so she would tell me you were in here!” Pansy Longbottom yelled across the room, her voice growing louder the further into the library she walked.

“Over here, Pans!” Draco called out to her. It was a vast library, he figured he’d give her some help. 

She came around a shelf and started yelling at Draco all over again, not registering that Potter was there, too. “You were supposed to be at​ Theo’s earlier to help us plan Blaise’s surprise party, you complete arse! Made me do all the work myself! You owe me– Oh, hey Harry. You owe me! You’re in charge of getting people there. I did my part, it’s your turn!”

“Hey, Pansy,” Potter replied. 

Draco huffed, “Alright, fine, I’ll do it.” He lowered his head again to continue scanning books. 

Pansy smiled like she did when she had gotten her way –which she just did– and took a seat at the table. “What are we working on?”

Draco spoke before Potter could. “Can’t tell you.” He felt Pansy staring at him, and when he lifted his eyes, he found that he was right. He gave her a tight-lipped, sarcastic smile, “Tonks’ order. Confidential.” He shrugged sarcastically. 

She wasn’t accepting that answer. “Well, maybe tell me what we’re looking for at least? Maybe I can help.” Pansy picked up the piece of parchment with the dates written on it. “What are these dates?”

Draco snatched the parchment from Pansy’s hand. “ Me and Potter, are looking for dates that were important for Voldemort that match this one here. We have all the others figured out, it's just the one we still need.”

Pansy leaned back in her chair, bored, and began examining her nails. “Why don’t you just ask your father?”

Draco and Potter’s heads snapped up at her words. 

“My father is dead, Pansy. Or have you forgotten?” Draco said with annoyance. 

“His portrait isn’t, you complete twit. Just go and ask him since he was, y’know, kind of involved there.” Pansy didn’t mean any disrespect, she just was very frank. And she wasn’t lying, she just wasn’t sugar-coating it. 

Potter glanced at Draco, “We can go another day, it’s been a long day. ” Draco nodded. He shifted his focus back to Pansy. “How was it today? Hermione happy with how things are working out with Marc?”

Pansy’s eyes went wide at the same time that Potter froze, like he had said something wrong. 

“What? Why would Hermione be working with Marc” Draco asked, confused. Why would Hermione be talking to Pansy’s boss?

“I got her a job. She works with me now at Republic. She started today,” Pansy said, her eyes on Potter as if trying to convey a message. 

Draco just looked between them, still confused. 

“Oh. Well, that’s good,” he said, but he was still taken aback by this information.

At least she was happy. Or he hoped she was. She had always loved music, it was her calling, and they both knew it. But the war had put it all on hold. Her music went on the back burner. Draco didn’t know if Hermione still loved music, if she still stayed up all night singing and writing. Or if she even still had the guitar. What if she had lost her spark? Her passion for music? It was one of the many things that he loved about her. She was bright in school, yes, but her writing was just… something else. She was truly gifted. He just wanted for her to be happy, and he knew how happy music made her. He wanted her to shine. She deserved it.

Draco was pulled from his trance by Pansy snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Earth to Malfoy!”

This was the second time today that he had spiraled at the mention of her name. 

“Yes, yes I’m here. What did you say?” 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “I said , are you coming out with us tomorrow night? We’re all meeting up at the Leaky after work for drinks.”

Draco didn’t much fancy going out anymore. Hadn’t since he came home. He thought he’d like to hang out with his friends and their friends, but it just didn’t feel right. Not yet.

“I think I’ll pass. Maybe next time.” Draco’s gaze traveled to his clasped hands on the table. 

“Are you coming to the quidditch match next week?” Potter changed the subject, sensing the tension. 

Draco looked up and over, to Potter. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Well, either way, you can start practicing with us after.” Potter hesitated, “You are still in, right?”

“Oh, absolutely. I’ve been having quidditch withdrawals,” Draco laughed honestly. He had been missing quidditch and ever since Potter gave him the very generous offer of a spot on the team… he had been counting down the days if he was being honest.

Would he ever admit that? Absolutely not.

Pansy left and Potter only stayed for about 10 minutes more so they could game plan for their next steps in the case. They agreed to meet at the office the next morning and go from there. 

Once Potter left, Draco went to bed, without dinner, and barely slept. Again.

January 10, 2004

Hermione was given the task to pick which two or three songs she wanted to release as singles. She had spent the last week trying to figure out which ones she wanted to use. It should have been easy, but in reality, the success of her career kind of depended on this choice. If she picked the wrong ones, people might hate them and never want to listen to her music.

She wanted to put out her music because she loved it, so she ended up going with the ones that touched her heart the most. She couldn’t deny that she still wanted people to like her music, so she still considered that when deciding.

She wanted the songs she picked to touch people the same way they touched her when she wrote them. Pansy said that day that her music could mean something more for people. That it could be more than just music. Three songs came to mind. 

She wrote Don’t Blame Me during Draco’s trial. People would whisper about her and The Daily Prophet would write about her. They would say she was crazy for defending him. They would speculate as to why a muggle-born would testify for a Deatheater. But they never knew the truth about them. 

Hermione’s parents had found her months after Draco had left London. They had met Draco once, and they knew how much the two loved each other. But they also wanted their daughter to be happy. Her parents introduced her to a nice muggle boy that they met when they were in Australia. Liam Anderson. He was a year older than Hermione. They dated for about ten months. It started great, but it seemed that all good things came to an end. Their relationship was the inspiration for champagne problems .

In the six months between Draco’s trial and her relationship with Liam, Hermione went on a writing spree. She seemed to do that as a way to cope. To attempt to heal. The Prophecy was the first song she wrote after Draco left London. 

There were many songs that had gotten her through some of the hardest times of her life, but these three just seemed right . These were the three songs that she decided she wanted to introduce herself to the world with. 

Hermione picked up her cell phone and called her mom. Marjorie Granger picked up after the second ring. 

“Hi, dear!” Her mom said excitedly.

“Hi, Mom,” Hermione said through a few tears. 

“Oh, honey! Why are you crying? Is everything okay?” Concern laced her mom’s voice. 

“Yeah, mom, I’m okay. I just–,” she sniffled again and wiped her tears, “I’m so close, Mom.” 

She had told her parents all about the record deal and the breakup with Ron the day after it all happened.

“Hermione, I am so proud of you. I really, really am. Your dad is, too.” Hermione could hear her dad chirp in, “I sure am!” It made her laugh. Her mom continued, “What are you doing right now, sweetie?”

“Well, I just picked my first singles,” She huffed out a sigh and another tear escaped. “I’m really doing it, mom.” Hermione let more tears fall. 

“I know you are sweetie, I always knew you could do it. Ever since you were a little girl singing and dancing around the sitting room.” Hermione could hear the smile in her voice. 

It was a bit of validation that Hermione didn’t know she needed. 

After Hermione didn’t respond, her mom continued. “Do you know when you are going to release them?”

“Well, I’m going in tomorrow to start working with our producer and try to start recording. If all goes according to plan, I hope to have at least one out by the end of February,” she told her mom.

It was currently mid-January. She knew it would be tricky to have one song, let alone three, ready in a month and a half, but she already had the lyrics and music written. It was just getting it recorded and figuring out the details of the sound design and music mixing to make the product she wanted. 

Hermione had never done anything like this before. She had composed her own music, but never anything to this level with so many layers. All her music was acoustic in its original form. 

She was excited to bring new life to her songs, but to say she wasn’t nervous would be a lie. 

“That’s so exciting! Well, knowing you, it will all go exactly as planned. It’s so good to hear your voice, sweetie.”

Hermione chuckled at her mom’s words, “Thanks, mom. It’s good to hear your voice, too.”

“You get some rest, okay? You can tell me all about everything later.” 

Hermione had been sitting in the same spot, with her guitar in her lap, looking at all her music that she had written over the last almost ten years. 

“I will. I love you, mom. Tell Dad that I love him, too.”

“We love you even more. Oh! I almost forgot! Are we still seeing you next weekend for lunch?”

“Of course! I’ll meet you guys at the restaurant,” Hermione reassured her mom.

“Good, we’ll see you then. Love you, sweetie!”

“Love you, too, mom!”

Hermione sat still on the couch for a minute or two after she hung up her phone. She had been in and out of meetings for the last week and this was the first real moment she got to herself. 

She hadn’t had a chance to really think. To feel. 

It all hit her at once, but she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. There had been so much joy and excitement over the last week. But it had all started with heartbreak and betrayal. 

The tears won out. The tears she shed while on the phone with her mom started anew, and with more force. 

Her breakup with Ron was more than just that. It felt like the end of an era. The end of something so beautiful, something more than a relationship.

Ron had been one of Hermione’s very best friends for years before they ever started dating. And it wasn’t just her friendship with Ron that ended. She knew that Harry felt a certain way towards him now, and she couldn’t help but feel responsible. And Ginny…

Hermione spiraled for what felt like hours in tears. She was still sitting on her couch, but the guitar was now on her coffee table, and her knees were pulled her her chest, her head bowed. 

Her head snapped up when she heard her floo roar to life. Hermione looked, with red-rimmed eyes and tears still spilling down her face, right into the face of none other than Theodore Nott.