“I can’t believe you got tickets for this, Liz.” Hermione said as they stood in the queue, the vast stadium towering above them, thousands of people streaming in. Her cousin grinned at her.
“It’s not only you that can work some magic, Mi.” She waggled her dark brows. “I had Josh, Taylor, and Fi primed on their computers whilst I did that bowel reconstruction on Sniffles. Whoever got us tickets got an extra week holiday.”
Hermione snorted out a laugh, hooking her arm around her cousin’s. “Questionable business practices aside, I’m grateful. I never thought I’d get to see them live.”
“Oh right, we’re pretending we’re here for the band .” Liz smirked. “We are simply appreciating the sonic experience, auditory enjoyment only. Not a single visual delight to be had.” She pointedly looked down at her tshirt, which she had neatly tied at the front in order to pair it with her long skirt. The face of Grey Jacobs smouldered up at Hermione, his tattooed arms flexing slightly, and she scoffed.
“You are not only here to ogle, Elizabeth.” Hermione replied.
“I think you’ll find, Hermione, that a large portion of my evening will include ogling.” She shot back. “I was born with the ability to multitask.” She sniffed, before the two of them dissolved in giggles, holding each other up as the line moved forward.
Hermione spent almost all of her time in the muggle world these days. She’d found it an upsetting decision to make, not because the move was hard, but because it was easy. There was simply nothing left for her in the wizarding world. After the war, she was mobbed relentlessly. She hadn’t gone anywhere near Diagon Alley in years, seeing as it was impossible to avoid people wanting photos or autographs from her. She’d incendio’d so many of her own chocolate frog cards that she’d inadvertently made herself a priceless rare collectible. The concept of celebrity made her skin crawl. She hated being so visible, so known, but she’d been content to live with it until a series of events pushed her too far. Firstly, the Ministry tried to tie her down into a contract where she would be required to make regular statements in support of the new government in order to restore the public trust in them. She’d told the Minister to go fuck himself, in those exact words, and had quit the DMLE the same day. Then Rita Skeeter had piped up again, spreading salacious rumours and falsehoods about Hermione’s sudden departure and ‘the real reasons behind it’. Those headlines threw even more attention her way, ending in a stalker finding her house and refusing to leave her garden for over a week. It took far longer than it should have done to convince the aurors to come and remove him, and so her decision was made. Back to muggle London she went.
In moving back in with her parents, whose memories she’d, thankfully, been able to restore with little to no issue, she’d reconnected with her wider family too. Enter her loud, slightly eccentric, rock music loving, veterinarian cousin Liz, who swept Hermione under her wing and brought her shaken confidence back. They’d never been that close before, but they were now, and that’s all that mattered in her opinion.
“You think we’re the oldest people here?” Liz asked as they fought their way through the crowds of teenagers to get closer to the barrier.
“Humbling if we are.” Hermione replied, self-consciously pulling down her mesh top, which was covered in black stars. She’d gone for shorts instead of a skirt like Liz, anticipating the stadium to be warm inside. She was glad of her choice, seeing how busy it was.
“I suppose it just increases our odds of being spotted by a fit guitarist.” Liz reasoned, and Hermione laughed and shook her head as they reached the very front.
“Do you seriously think about nothing else?”
“You should think about it more. This is a new beginning for you, Mi, your chance to celebrate your freedom. Grab life by the balls, or, if life isn’t within your reach, grab a stunningly beautiful singer by them instead, if he fancies it. Start saying yes again.” Liz grinned. “You are easily the sexiest woman in this stadium right now.”
“90% of this crowd look like they’re 12, Liz.” She pointed out, but her cousin waved her off.
“Your so-called golden friends did you such a disservice, not telling you how beautiful you are. If I looked like you, I’d exploit the hell out of it. I’d have men and women hanging on my every word. I’d never lift a finger again.”
“You’re exaggerating.” Hermione rolled her eyes.
“I’m not. I promise I’m not.” Liz shook her head, the Granger family curls threatening to escape her two buns because of the movement. Hermione went to speak again, but the comment died in her throat as the lights dimmed and her attention was drawn to the stage. Liz was already screaming next to her, and Hermione grinned and laughed as the band made their way out.
Grey Jacobs had seemingly popped up out of nowhere, his meteoric rise to fame well-documented in the muggle media. Nobody had known him, and then, suddenly, everyone had. He had a unique sound, oozed natural talent, and was, as Liz had so kindly pointed out, very pretty to look at. His cropped brown hair swooped down over his forehead in a way that Hermione was convinced had been workshopped to maximise the potential for swooning (swoonability?), and his tight black tshirt that he habitually wore showed off his tattoos and stupid abs. Hermione wasn’t blind, but she did honestly just like his music. She wasn’t too bothered about the man himself.
Until he walked out on stage and she saw him in the flesh, that was. As she took him in, and immediately developed a penchant for the way his forearms flexed as he played out the first few notes on his guitar, she felt his magic wash over her. It was like stepping into a warm bath, coating her like oil. It was harder to feel the magic of others in the wizarding world because there was simply so much of it around, but in the muggle world, it stood out like a sore thumb. He’d know she was there, feeling her magic just as strongly as she felt his. That was an odd feeling, knowing actual Grey Jacobs would be forced to acknowledge her, but it wasn’t like he’d be able to single her out. He’d know she was in the room, but no more than that.
“What’s he looking for?” Liz shouted in her ear, and Hermione smiled, watching as Grey tried to find, presumably, her. He was squinting out at the crowd, still playing the intro to his song, his eyes scanning the room. Hermione tapped three fingers on her arm, a signal to Liz that a witch or wizard was present, and her cousin’s eyes grew wide. She pointed at Grey, and Hermione nodded. Liz then promptly screamed again. “He can tell you’re here?” She shouted, and Hermione nodded again, laughing at her cousin’s ever present enthusiasm.
It was not often that Hermione swooned. She’d never been one for swoopy hair or shiny eyes. She could look into the face of a ridiculously attractive man and retain all of her faculties with no issue. It was intelligence that made her weak at the knees. Specifically, magical intelligence. This was prevalent, because she suddenly felt somebody pressing gently at the edges of her mind, politely requesting access. She had to cling to Liz for dear life, because Merlin, was legilimency sexy. It required years of disciplined training to be able to do, and here Grey Jacobs was, the utter bastard, doing it wandlessly. She was swooning. She swooned. Swoonability confirmed.
“ Nobody with magic has come to see me before. Where are you?” Grey asked in her head, as he continued to search the crowd for her.
“ By the barrier, to your right. I’m the one with all the hair.” She replied, and watched as he followed her instructions. He smiled once he caught her eye, and she smiled back. Liz screamed again, swatting Hermione repeatedly in the arm.
“ Of all the people I thought you might be, Hermione Granger was bottom of the list, I’ll admit. Can you and your friend stay after the show?”
“ If you’d like us to.” She smirked, and he huffed out a laugh.
“ Someone will fetch you later then. For now though, Miss Granger, consider the show dedicated to you.” He winked - he fucking winked - and then started his show properly, striding off in the other direction.
“Holy shit, Mi!” Liz shouted in her ear. Hermione nodded, still vaguely dumbstruck. Holy shit, indeed.
A very large bald man dressed all in black appeared once the show was over. His name badge told Hermione that the man mountain’s name was Darren, and that he was a part of Grey’s security.
“Are you Hermione Granger?” He asked, and she nodded. Suddenly, his entire demeanour changed and he beamed at her. “His lordship has requested your presence. He never does this, I’ve been dying to know why he asked.” They rounded the end of the barrier and Darren gestured for them to follow him. “Sorry, so it’s Hermione and…?”
“Liz.” Liz replied with a grin as they walked down the side of the stage. “We’re cousins.”
“Ah, that explains the resemblance then.” He said, swiping a pass on a door, and holding it open for them. “Have you been fans for long?”
“I’ve liked Grey since his first album. I dragged Hermione down with me more recently.” She explained with a smirk.
“You knew Grey, but you didn’t listen to his music?” Darren asked Hermione with a confused frown. Hermione shrugged.
“I suppose it just passed me by. I lived abroad for a while, so it put me a little out of the loop.” She said, falling back on her usual explanation for why she wasn’t completely up to date with muggle pop culture. They were walking down a long corridor, posters on the walls depicting other artists that had performed there over the years.
“That must mean you have a few stories to tell?” He smiled, and Liz snorted, knowing the truth of that statement.
“She certainly does.” Grey said, appearing from round a corner. “But they’re mine to hear first.”
“Pulling rank?” Darren smirked, folding his huge arms across his chest.
“There have to be some perks to all of this.” Grey replied, before turning to Hermione. “Hello.” He said, looking strangely nervous.
“Hi.” She replied. Liz coughed pointedly, and Hermione had to physically shake herself. “This is Liz. She’s my cousin.”
“Oh, I didn’t realise you had- I mean. Hello Liz.” He held out his hand, and she shook it, beaming at him.
“Hello Grey Jacobs.” She breathed. He chuckled.
“Did you two want to head to the bar? The others are already in there.” He pointed behind him, and Liz’s eyes somehow got wider.
“The others as in…?”
Grey smirked. “The band, yes.” Liz squealed and scampered off around the corner. Grey then turned once more to Hermione. “Does she know? About…you know.” He asked softly.
Hermione nodded. “She knows everything.”
“I wanted to check before I put my foot in it.” He said, before turning back to Darren. “You can have the rest of the night off if you like. We’re perfectly safe with the Grangers around.”
“Ever so kind of you, sir. It is my honour to serve, sir.” Darren replied sarcastically, before grinning and waving as he headed back the way they’d come. Grey rolled his eyes.
“Come on then.” He nodded his head, and Hermione followed, a strange sense of deja vu washing over her.
Liz was already flirting by the time they entered the small bar, batting her eyelashes as she sat opposite Finn, Grey’s drummer. Hermione sighed.
“Sorry, she’s always like that.” She muttered, but Grey waved her off.
“They really won’t be opposed, Finn loves attention. Don’t worry about it, Granger.” He replied, guiding her to an empty table a little way away from the other people in the room. “So, how come you’re in muggle London?” He asked as they sat down. The short man behind the bar appeared with two glasses of water, and Hermione smiled up at him in thanks.
“I live here now, with Liz actually. The other world was…draining.” She replied, with a slight grimace. “What about you? How did you end up doing this, of all things?”
He shrugged. “I’ve always loved music. Circumstances changed and I was looking for a new start, so I figured this would be as good a place as any.” He said, taking a small sip of his water. She watched the way he did it, the way he held his arm at a strange angle so it always faced away from her. Suddenly, the pieces clicked into place. The way he’d known she didn’t drink anymore without having to ask, the way he didn’t drink either. The way he’d said her last name, the two syllables ringing in her ears. She put her glass down on the table beside her and studied his face.
“So this is where you disappeared to.” She said, crossing one leg over the other. He blinked, and then scoffed lightly.
“Brightest witch of the age, everyone.” He muttered, before leaning forward. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologise to me-”
He interrupted her. “Yes, Granger, I do. We were…Well, I don’t know what we were, but we were enough of something to make my running away unacceptable.”
“I would have come with you if you’d asked.” She replied, uncrossing her legs and reaching for his hand. He nodded.
“I know. That’s why I didn’t ask.” He said, running his thumb across her knuckles almost reverently. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
“You didn’t want to?”
“I didn’t deserve to.” He corrected her, and she huffed.
“That’s such a load of bullshit, you dramatic bloody idiot. Do you seriously think that me leaving the wizarding world behind shortly after you did was a coincidence? Has it never occurred to you that you were the only thing I stayed for?”
He frowned at her. “That can’t be true, Granger. You had Potter and the Weasleys. You had so many people better than me.”
“No, I really didn’t. Harry and Ron are in New York, living their lives, as they should. I get an occasional owl and very little else. It did not take very long to realise we had little in common once we weren’t fighting to stay alive anymore. They only talk about quidditch, Draco, and you know how much I hate it.” She smirked, and he smiled at her.
“Say that again.” He whispered.
“I hate quidditch?” She raised an eyebrow, and he rolled his eyes, dragging her out of the chair to stand with him.
“You know what, Hermione.” He said as he dragged her to him, hands on her waist.
“Draco.” She smiled up at him, her hands on his chest. “I told you that you had a nice singing voice.”
He snorted. “Seriously? You’re going to say I told you so?”
“Have you met me? Of course I am.” She shot back.
He pulled her into a tight hug. “Gods, I missed you.” He muttered, his face shoved into her hair.
“I missed you too.” She said into his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Distantly, she could hear Liz whistling, but in that moment, she couldn’t find it within herself to care. Then she realised Finn was also whooping and a thought occurred to her. “Is Finn Theo Nott?” She looked up at Malfoy.
“Yeah.” He nodded, looking, to his credit, slightly guilty.
She pulled away and marched across the room. “You are not shagging my cousin.” She declared before pulling them into a hug. Liz frowned next to them, in the way a petulant child might.
“The night is still young, Granger. Who knows what might happen?” They smirked down at her, their usual brown curls a bright teal blue. “He’s been bereft without you. You’re staying now, yeah?” They said softly, and she smiled.
“Just try and get rid of me.”
“Wait, is this her?” Charlie the guitarist asked from across the booth they were sitting in, and Theo nodded.
“Certainly is. May I present Grey’s muse?” They swung a dramatic arm, and Hermione rolled her eyes.
“You can’t deny it, darling.” Charlie grinned at her. “You should hear how many bloody songs he’s written about you. All soppy and depressing, you can’t even-”
“Yes, thank you.” Draco interrupted him, appearing behind her and slinging an arm over her shoulders, his face growing red. She laughed.
“Are you being serious? My little cousin is the inspiration for some of my favourite songs?” Liz asked.
“I’m older than you.” Hermione pointed out, but Liz wasn’t listening.
“This might be the best day of my life. I can’t process much more.” She slapped a hand to her chest and Hermione watched as Theo tracked the movement with almost lecherous interest.
“Hurt her and they’ll never find your body once I’m done with it.” Hermione murmured in their ear, pulling away slightly from Malfoy to do so.
“As if I’d risk your wrath.” Theo replied with a smile. “But I promise. It’ll all be loudly and enthusiastically consensual.” Hermione grimaced, but accepted the sentiment all the same. “Just think, mate.” They looked over at Malfoy. “We could be proper family.” Theo grinned widely as Liz laughed next to him.
“I cannot stand you.” Malfoy replied immediately. “Come home with me?” He leant down and muttered in Hermione’s ear, clearly eager to avoid any further ribbing by his friends.
“Only if you promise not to run away this time.” She replied, and he nodded.
“I’m not sure I can face another day where I don’t get to wake up next to you.”
“You should write that one down.” Liz pointed at him with a smirk, and he huffed.
“Am I entitled to royalties, do you think?” Hermione asked innocently. At that point, Malfoy’s limited patience ran out, and she squeaked as he dragged her behind him, striding towards the door.
“Happy negotiating!” Theo called after them, the three left in the bar laughing loudly.
Once hidden from prying eyes or any cameras, Malfoy apparated them both back to his flat, which was, of course, one of the stupidly fancy ones overlooking the Thames. You can take the boy out of the Manor…
“I want to take this slow.” He said suddenly, and Hermione tore her eyes away from the view. “You cannot begin to understand how important you are to me and I refuse to fuck this up again.”
She hummed, nodding as she walked over to him. Once close enough, she placed her hands back on his chest - because she was absolutely making the most of her opportunity to feel the hard muscles there - and looked up at him.
“I have a tattoo of a dragon that takes up most of my back and thigh.” She said simply. Any grey left in his eyes promptly turned to black, and then he was hoisting her up, her legs around his waist, the concept of ‘taking things slow’ abandoned to the wind.
“Mine.” He muttered as he finally kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and found that she was very much inclined to agree with that. A bit of wandless magic later, Grey Jacobs was gone, and she was wrapped around Draco Malfoy instead. Now that, she mused, was much better.