“You’ve got some fucking nerve, I’ll give you that.” Draco said, arms folded across his chest as he leant against Blaise’s large kitchen island. Not Draco. Malfoy, she mentally corrected. Not Draco anymore.
Blaise huffed. “We’re all adults here. I didn’t see a reason why you couldn’t work together on this.”
“I should have refused when this only included lying to Padma, but now? Now we’re in ‘step too far’ territory.” Hermione said firmly.
“Did I neglect to mention the collaborative aspect of this evening? Yes, I may have done, and I’ll freely admit that, but you’re the best cooks I know. I really want to impress her.” Blaise almost whined.
“You want to impress her by pretending to cook her a meal when you’ve actually misled your friends and forced them to do it for you? Patil isn’t stupid, she’ll work it out eventually.” Malfoy replied.
“She’ll work it out even faster when I tell her.” Hermione added, her tone dark. She thought she saw Malfoy try to hide the beginnings of a smile.
“Do you want me to beg? I’ll get down on my knees.” He offered, and Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes. She then looked at Malfoy, who raised an eyebrow. A silent conversation was had, and she did her very best not to revel in the way they could still manage that. She nodded, as did he, and she turned back to Blaise.
“We’ll do it.” She relented, and he grinned.
“But you owe us.” Malfoy warned, pointing at his friend. “You’ll be at Granger’s beck and call for the foreseeable.”
“Anything you want, my lady. My lord.” Blaise bowed theatrically, and raced out of the room before either of them could change their minds. “Thank you!” He called down the hall. They both listened as he climbed the stairs, presumably going to get ready. Blaise always took forever, primping and preening like the proud peacock that he was. Hermione sighed, running a hand through her hair, before turning to Malfoy again.
“So…” She began.
“The only way I can see for us to get through tonight is to just talk about the food.” He said, and she nodded.
“Ok. I’ll start the dessert and then I can help you with whatever you need. Just tell me what you want me to do.” She replied, and he nodded back at her, before heading to the sink and washing his hands. His shoulders were visibly tense, and she sighed again as she realised tonight was probably going to be the most awkward experience of her life. If Blaise and Padma didn’t end up getting married off the back of this first date, if all of this wasn’t worth it, she’d be having stern words with the both of them, pact of secrecy be damned. She got through her banoffee pie quite quickly, knowing the recipe like the back of her hand. She was cutting up the bananas for the top as her thoughts began to drift.
It had been just over two months since they’d broken up. Or, to be more accurate, since Malfoy had dumped her out of the blue. He’d simply said that he’d seen ‘the letter’ on her desk, and that he couldn’t deal with her keeping secrets. ‘The letter’ turned out to be from her healer, with the results of some scans Hermione had asked for. The whole thing had made her feel so incredibly foolish. She’d had a good couple of years with Draco, her Draco, just Draco , that she’d forgotten all about Draco Malfoy and his ability to be exceedingly cruel. She’d never once considered that he valued having a biological heir more than he valued her, but he did. He made himself quite clear. She couldn’t give him a child, so they were done. No ifs or buts, just done. She could have respected that, one day. She could have come to see his reasons, his family expectations, all of that, but one sentence destroyed any ability she might have had to be reasonable. Draco had looked her right in the eye, and had told her that she didn’t ‘work normally’, that he couldn’t wait around for her to figure out what she was going to do about it. If he had crucio’d her, she was convinced that would have hurt less.
She was a few weeks away from a conference in Massachusetts where she’d been asked to be a guest speaker, and was honestly looking forward to getting out of the country for a short while. Getting out of his sphere of influence, seeing as they had all the same friends. That had been her fault, combining the two groups, but she’d been convinced that he was her person for life and so it wouldn’t have ever become a problem. What a fool she was.
“Can you cut those up when you’re done?” He asked her, placing two onions on the worktop in front of her, breaking her out of her thoughts that were becoming increasingly dark.
“Sure.” She replied, finishing the banana and decorating the pie, placing it in the fridge once the slices covered the top. With a clean knife, she cut the onions into slices, knowing he was making his sweet onion butter to put on sourdough for the starter. She knew this because it was her absolute favourite, as banoffee pie was his. Apparently, they’d both reverted to sentimentality when Blaise had asked them to cook for his date. She chopped up the herbs he’d need too, without him needing to ask, and placed them all on a board next to where he stood over the hob. He quietly thanked her, and she moved onto peeling potatoes for the main course.
They worked in excruciatingly awkward silence, both ignoring how well they still worked as a team, even when sentiments between them had, arguably, never been worse. They heard Padma arrive, heard her express how impressed she was that Blaise was cooking all by himself. They heard Blaise’s cocky, self assured response, and both scoffed at their friend’s audacity. Malfoy’s head shot up at the noise, meeting her eye across the island. Her face smiled of its own accord, and he returned the expression, which made Hermione want to cry because she couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled at her like that. She was about to say something, although quite what would come of her mouth she wasn’t sure, when he beat her to it.
“I assume you set them up?” He asked.
Hermione nodded. “He asked me to. Padma works in paeds, a few floors up. He saw her in the canteen, but didn’t know which sister she was.”
Malfoy scoffed, and chuckled as a thought occurred to him. “When he first told me about her, he still didn’t know which one she was. I’ve never understood how people can’t tell, to be honest. They’re not completely identical.”
“I know! I shared a dorm with Parvati for years, and I’ve always thought the difference was obvious.” Hermione grinned, feeling vindicated. “Plus Parvati is always draped in charm bracelets and rabbits feet.”
Malfoy laughed properly then. “Padma did always strike me as the more sensible of the two. I suppose you’re predisposed to prefer her? With your distaste for anything remotely to do with divination?” He smirked, and she huffed.
“Parvati’s column is a load of bullshit, you cannot tell me otherwise.”
“Of course it’s bullshit. She said virgos and geminis were compatible.” He replied, and then seemed to realise what he’d said. She then realised that they’d been talking normally, like they used to, and felt the awkwardness return with a vengeance, settling over them like a thick fog.
“Blaise should be down to get the starter soon.” She said. He just nodded in reply.
Malfoy was finishing the steaks as Hermione sent the wine to the table with a spell she’d invented for moving objects across short distances. He watched her do it out of the corner of his eye, and smiled into the pan, apparently thinking she couldn’t see him. It was things like that that confused the hell out of her. He’d always been attracted to her magical ability, to her wandless prowess and invention skills. He’d told her as much almost constantly during the time they were together. He found her impressive, and he liked that. The hot and cold sent her head spinning, and maybe that was why she suddenly asked what she did.
“How was your date?”
He froze, and slowly looked over at her. “You saw Witch Weekly…?”
“Mm. She was pretty.” She replied, attempting to sound genuine and not bitter. She was convinced she pulled it off.
“Yeah, she is.” He said. “Have you…seen anyone?”
She hadn’t. She’d barely left Harry and Gin’s spare room. Barely left the bed, even. “A couple of people here and there. Nothing to write home about.” She said, tossing him a quick smile before going back to wiping the island down. He hummed.
“Same. For me, as well.”
“She is eating out of the palm of my hand!” Blaise exclaimed as he came into the kitchen. “Not literally, obviously. I was raised to have table manners.” He added with a smirk. He then seemed to realise he’d interrupted something and smiled somewhat awkwardly. “Everything alright in here?”
“Yes.” Malfoy replied immediately, shoving the two plates into his hands.
“Very convincing. Well, you two have fun. Just one course left, hang in there.” He smirked again, and Hermione shot him a flat stare.
“I’m going to report you to the Ministry.”
“Slightly misleading one’s friends isn’t a crime.” Blaise said.
“No, but keeping squonks in your wine cellar is.”
“I’m not keeping squonks in my wine cellar?” He frowned.
“Not yet you’re not.” Hermione shot back. Malfoy snorted, before schooling his face.
“You cannot release a load of those slimy bastards into my house just for this! Look, I’ll make it up to you.” Blaise promised.
“Yes. Yes, you will.” Hermione smiled at him, and he huffed as he went back into the hall, taking the main course to Padma.
“Do you have a reliable squonk supplier?” Malfoy asked her as soon as Blaise was gone.
“I’m Hermione Granger. I’m sure I can find one if need be.” She said, and he laughed softly.
“Well if you need help…” He tailed off, and she frowned at the amount of hurt in his eyes.
“You make no sense.” She said automatically, cringing as the words left her mouth without her permission.
“What does that mean?”
“Draco, you kicked me out. This was your choice, but then you have this look about you that feels like you think it wasn’t.” She replied, deciding that they were in this now so she might as well get some answers.
He blinked at her. “How was this my choice? You kept that letter a secret from me. I’m entitled to know about things that affect both of us.”
“Entitled?! I would have spoken to you about it eventually, but you’re far from entitled to that information.” She snapped. He scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“That right there is why I ended things. I showed both of us mercy. We would have died a slow, painful death otherwise.”
“I thought we could have worked something out. There are options.” Hermione replied, tears beginning to form. “If you’d cared enough, you would have wanted to work something out. But you kicked me out instead.”
“I didn’t kick you out!” He exclaimed. “Stop saying I kicked you out, I did not kick you out.”
“Yes, you did.” She laughed humourlessly. “We can debate semantics all you like, but that is what you did.”
“I didn’t kick you out, Hermione. I gave you up.” He said, gripping the kitchen island so hard his knuckles were white.
“What?”
“You don’t work in the way others do. I couldn’t tie you down like that.” He replied.
“That isn’t my fault! It’s a result of the war, of curse damage-”
He scoffed, interrupting her. “You can’t make excuses. It’s just the way you are. It isn’t the result of anything else, it’s just you.”
Tears continued to fall. “How…How can you be so cruel?” She asked, voice breaking. “I loved you.”
He looked like she’d slapped him. “Why can’t you see that this was for the best? You’d be over there, I’d still be over here. Long distance never works, Hermione.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I couldn’t hold you back from your dream job. I saw in your letter, you said it was the opportunity of a lifetime. Yes, I wish you’d talked to me about it, but I refuse to be an anchor.” He continued, as she felt her stomach drop to the floor.
“You said I don’t work in the way others do…” She whispered.
“Well you don’t! You do long hours, you commit 110%. There wouldn’t be time to floo call or deal with portkey sickness. I’d never have seen you.”
Hermione turned around and threw up in Blaise’s sink. In a second, Draco was behind her, holding her hair out of her face, a gentle hand on her back. She was sobbing loudly, gasping for air fruitlessly. “Granger, you need to breathe.” He said gently. “You’re ok. Come on, breathe for me.”
“Draco, what have we done?” She whispered, voice hoarse.
“It was for the best.” He said, still rubbing her back. She shook her head.
“I thought you meant the letter from Mungo’s. When you said I hadn’t shown you the letter, I thought you meant…that one.” She looked up at him, and he blinked. “Draco, I can’t have children. That’s what I thought your problem was.”
A single tear rolled down Draco’s cheek as he gaped at her. “The job…” He whispered.
“Is for six weeks. I didn’t tell you about it because it’s for six weeks.” She said, feeling incredibly unsteady.
“You don’t work normally.” His eyes went wide as he realised how she’d taken his words and he grabbed her hands. “I would never, not ever say that to you. Not in that context. Not ever.” He said. “All this time, you thought I was-” His throat was tight as he cut himself off.
“We’ve been really stupid.” She said as she continued to cry. He shook his head fervently.
“No. I’ve been really stupid. I should have just asked you about it. Gods, I’ve really fucked this up.” He looked up at the ceiling before looking back at her with such intent in his eyes that she felt pinned to the counter. “How do I fix this?”
“You…You want to fix it?” She asked, voice still wavering.
“Granger, I broke up with you so I didn’t hold you back. I didn’t want to be the reason you stayed here if your dream job was somewhere else. Turns out I’m just an idiot who lacks the ability to read, so of bloody course I want to fix it. I love you. I never stopped, not for a second. I have been in a hell of my own making this entire time. I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked, and she dragged her to him, holding him as close as she physically could. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” He was muttering into her hair, his nose buried in the curls.
“I love you.” She replied as he wrapped his arms around her. They stayed like that for a while. Hermione didn’t really know how long. She didn’t care, either.
Draco finally pulled away and took a deep breath. “Tell me about the healer letter. If you want to.”
She nodded, wiping her face. “Um, ok. You know I was having all those irregular periods? I asked for some scans and the results came back. It’s very unlikely that I’d be able to carry a child to term. There’s too much scar tissue and damage from curse exposure.” She said, and he sighed, pulling her back into another hug.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that this is something else that’s been taken from you. I’m sorry you ever thought I didn’t care, or, even worse, that I held it against you. I would never, Hermione. I promise, I would never.”
“Thank you.” She whispered.
“Any potential children I would have had, or we would have had, are not as important as you. You and your health, right here and now. That is the priority.” He said firmly, but not unkindly, and she nodded, still reeling slightly from the revelations of the day. “I know this is a lot. This is…a clusterfuck of epic proportions, and it’s broken things between us. But I swear to you, I don’t care how long it takes, I will fix it. I’ll get you back.”
“I’m not sure you ever really lost me.” She replied, realising they were both crying again. “I thought the worst of you, I thought some truly awful things. But I never stopped loving you either. I never stopped wanting you.”
“I’ve been on one date, and I was essentially forced into it. It was the worst evening of my entire life because, as nice as she was, she wasn’t you. Nobody else will ever compare to you. You’ve ruined me, Granger.”
“I haven’t been on any dates. I lied about that.” She admitted, and he laughed softly.
“I know. You’re a really terrible liar.”
“You’re a bastard.” She smiled up at him, and he nodded.
“Yes, I am. But I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He kissed her gently on the forehead, in the way he always used to, and she felt her heart beginning to knit itself back together.
That was how Blaise found them, with a vaguely irate Padma in tow.
“As you can see, my darling, my plan has worked perfectly.” Blaise announced, and both Draco and Hermione frowned at him.
“Shut up, you prat. You did not plan this , I’m not an idiot.” Padma replied. “I’m happy to see you worked things out, though.” She smiled at both of them.
“They just needed to talk! This was a ruse within a ruse.” Blaise tried to explain, but Padma rolled her eyes heavily.
“Sure it was. Next time, we’re going to my flat, and I’m forcing you to actually cook for me. In plain sight, where I can see you. I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t know when I was eating Hermione Granger’s banoffee pie.”
“There’s a next time?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
Padma sighed. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a happy ending. You’ve charmed me, somehow. I can’t say it was through anything you did on purpose.” She waved at the two of them, who still hadn’t moved. “I really am happy for you two. Thank you for such a delicious meal, too. It was very kind of you to agree to help.”
“That’s ok.” Hermione croaked, her voice still hoarse. Draco just nodded.
“Have you actually enslaved them or are they free to leave?” Padma asked Blaise, who was still grinning.
“I think I’d quite like them to leave now, actually.” He replied.
“You still owe us.” Draco said threateningly as he grabbed Hermione’s hand and all but dragged her out to the floo.
“Have I not given you enough already? I fixed your relationship.”
“You absolutely did not, Blaise.” Hermione snorted, a wide smile on her face. In the hall, she looked at Draco as he grabbed the floo powder. “Where are we going?”
He smiled at her. “Home.” He replied.
She knew they had work to do. They couldn't just slip back into being together as if nothing had gone wrong, but she wasn't ready to give up on him completely just yet. All of this had been because of a stupid misunderstanding, but it had shaken her trust in him. That would build back up over time. For now, she was content to simply be back in his arms again. It had always felt like the place she belonged. It felt like home.