Here Comes the Sun
Draco had been awaiting the news of his release for 32 days, 32 days past the time when he should have been a free man. The rules set out by the ministry after the incarceration of him and the other complicit Slytherin students meant that he could not return into society without a sponsor. Sponsors were selected on a voluntary basis, so it was no surprise that nobody stepped forward to take him. He was the last of his cohort to be released but due to the legislation the only people that had been his friends were not allowed to volunteer. So, he had been sufficiently surprised when, on day 32, someone had come to take him. He didn’t get any say in the matter of course, beggars cannot be choosers after all, but if he had he may have objected.
“Good morning, Malfoy. Glad to finally be seeing the back of you and that tedious bouncing ball you love so much.” Said a nondescript guard as he walked Draco to the front desk of the prison. Thankfully for Draco and the rest of the Slytherin students, Azkaban had been entirely refurbished after the dementors left. They had taken inspiration from the muggle prisons on the mainland so, it was a much nicer stay than that of the criminals from the last war. Draco had been given his own secure cell, containing everything he needed but absolutely no entertainment, save for an hour a day in the gym.
He'd taken to reading for the first few years, he’d enjoyed it for the most part but eventually he’d read the library dry. Then he’d decided to attempt to write his own book, about his own life. Not that anyone would care to read the story of an infant Death Eater, that’s all he had been in the war. He kept the manuscript with him though, after he’d finished writing it. If not just to remind himself that he still had a story, despite the monotony of his current living situation. He tried painting, drawing, even piano playing – which he had been quite proficient at actually – but nothing really stuck.
In the end he took a small ball from the sports and rec area and bounced it against the wall for hours on end. Throw, wall, floor, catch. Sometimes he’d hit the floor first just to spice things up. The inmates were not allowed contact with each other, so it had been just Draco and the guards this entire stay. Truth be told, some of them turned out to be good friends in the end. But now he was leaving, and he’d never be back again, he'd make sure of that.
“Yeah, sorry about the ball but it was that or spiral into the depths of insanity, and I know you’d have missed me.” Draco joked, earning him a nasally huff in response. He knew it was the closest thing he’d ever get to a laugh out of this guard, so he took it as a good sign. “Do you know who my sponsor is?”
“No, we’re not privy to that kind of information. You’ll find out when you arrive at your destination.” The guard stated as they rounded the corner into the desk. Draco looked around; he’d not seen this area of the prison since they’d brought him in. They’d renovated these areas last, the cells needed to be tended to first. Something to do with human rights apparently. It was clinical and impersonal, much like the cell. The guard left him at the desk and returned to his post as Draco waited for the receptionist to turn her attention to him. She sat with her feet up, boots on the desk, reading a big book and sipping on some kind of iced beverage. He tapped his foot with impatience as she continued to read for another ten minutes. He hadn’t wanted to cause a scene, but it was getting ridiculous.
“Excuse me, miss. I’m waiting to leave..” He said shortly. She peered up at him, he didn’t recognise her. She sighed loudly as she closed the book with a loud slap and slammed it on the desk. She rose from the chair and took the papers from the desk drawer and passed them to him. “Thank you.”
“You need to sign the top page and return it to me and then I’ll fetch the portkey.” She spoke as if she were already bored of the conversation. He read the page, it was regarding the agreement of the Sponsor that he’d been assigned, and his agreement of the use of a portkey.
“How can I sign that I agree to my sponsor if I don’t know who they are?” He asked her, feeling ever more impatient. She shrugged and told him that he could either sign it or stay here. The sponsor had apparently been vetted and cleared, what more did he need to know? He’d also been handed some clothes to change into before he left, black jeans, black t shirt, black jacket and white trainers. ‘Could they have at least tried to make him look more muggle?’ he thought to himself sarcastically. He sighed loudly as he signed and returned the form. She plastered on a fake smile as she passed him the portkey. It was, in fact, a key.
“Before you take that, it’s the key to the door of the house you will land in front of. Use it to gain access. Your Sponsor will meet you inside. Goodbye, Mr Malfoy. I hope we never meet again.” And with that she sat down again and resumed her original position as Draco readied himself for the feeling of portkey travel. He had nothing else to wait for, he took the key and landed outside a pink front door.
He stood for a moment on the outside of the door, regaining his trust in his stomach, that motion always made him feel so queasy. He stepped back to look at the door again, light pink with a brass number 3 in the middle. He tried to think of any men he knew that would have a pink door but came up empty. So, it was a woman then. He decided not to put it off any longer and put the key in the lock.
The door opened into a hallway, lightly decorated with oak floors and stairs that led to the next level. It was clean and well-kept. If not a little small. There were two doors on the left side and one in front of him. He looked around the first door to find a sitting room, two big light pink sofas took up most of the space, along with a coffee table in the centre. He noticed a large black picture frame on the chimney breast and wondered whose portrait usually resided in it. It was devoid of people though.
The next room held a small dining table, with four pink chairs but it could easily sit six at a push. There was a chimney in here too, with a log burner instead of a proper fire. In the alcoves next to it there was storage, one side completely blocked from view with solid doors. The other side held glass doors, in which he could see several types of liquor and fancy glasses. Along with crockery and some ornaments. There was also a wicker basket with knitting materials in it. He’d noticed a knitted blanket on the sofa in the other room, maybe that had been made by the occupant.
He noticed a door opposite the one to the dining room that hadn’t been immediately visible and found that it held coats and shoes, and a huge white block of something. Instead, he tried the other door, the one opposite the front door. It was a kitchen, filled with things that he couldn’t identify. It was long with patio doors at the end of it, the garden was nice, flower beds and a patio set to sit on. He turned around to go upstairs and saw the cat for the first time. His head was sticking out of the spindles on the banister. He hissed and made Draco jump before he ran upstairs to hide. Wonderful.
He heard some rummaging around on the landing above him, undoubtably footsteps from a human. He straightened up his clothes and brushed a hand through his hair, he was nervous to meet his Sponsor. Inside of their own home at that. He stepped back over to the door quickly, so as to not look like he’d been skulking around. She came downstairs in chunky black boots, moss green tights and a black dress covered in flowers. It was Luna Lovegood.
“Oh, hello Malfoy.” She breezed past him and out of the door before beckoning him to follow. He did out of sheer curiosity.
“Lovegood. I wasn’t expecting to see you. How are you?” He tried to make light and polite conversation with her as he attempted to figure out her motives.
“Well, she did warn me that you’d be here before she was back, so I promised to take you to her. We’re going to meet at the coffee place.” She smiled at him, as if they had been friends before and were meeting again under entirely different circumstances.
“I’m sorry, I’m a little confused.” He laid a hand on her arm to slow her down and immediately released her when she looked down at it. “Who are we meeting?”
“Hermione of course! It’s her house that you’ve just been in. I’m just staying for the summer until the school year starts again.” She didn’t seem phased by the contact, but he still felt bad for having touched her without warning. He stopped walking when he’d processed what she’d said.
“Did you say Hermione? As in, Hermione Granger?” He jogged a little to catch up with Luna, who’s pace never slowed. “Is she my Sponsor?”
“Don’t worry mister Malfoy, Hermione will explain everything.” She smiled again, it almost seemed mechanical by that point. That’s when he realised that she’d likely taken some form of calming potion considering their history.
“Well, thank you for meeting me Luna, I appreciate it.” He smiled down at her this time and she didn’t smile back. Her eyes scanned his face for any hint of a lie, evidentially she didn’t find it because she gave him a small nod before walking into a café. He followed her inside, scanning the crowd and checking every exit. It felt exceedingly warm in there to him, and small. And there were so many people. He took off his jacket but still felt claustrophobic and sweaty. He mumbled to Luna that he needed to go outside. She attempted to ask what drink he would like but he was already gone by the time she opened her mouth. She located Hermione in the queue and took up a spot by her side.
“Hi Luna, thanks for bringing him but like.. Where is he?” Hermione began looking around the café before she spotted him leaning against the window outside. “Ah, I see him. He wasn’t any trouble was he?” Luna chuckled.
“Well, I don’t think so, but you might want to ask Edgar. He didn’t seem to like him judging by his reaction.” They discussed what drinks they were getting and what drink Malfoy might want, oh, and do they get a muffin too? They decided against it. “I’m going to meet Neville and Ginny at the Leaky Cauldron. I might be out late; I hope you don’t mind?” Hermione didn’t. She had three bedrooms in that house and Luna had insisted on paying for her stay so she could come and go as she pleased.
Hermione passed Luna her drink and watched her walk outside to bid Malfoy goodbye before leaving. He looked inside and caught her eye, they stared at each other for a long moment, taking each other in. His hair was longer, his skin was still pale, but he wasn’t the skinny little rake she remembered. He’d filled out whilst in the prison, she supposed he didn’t have much else to do. Their drinks were placed down next to her, and she thanked the barista before exiting the shop. He nodded at her.
“Hi.” She put out her hand, in which she held an extravagant frappe. “I figured you were a fancy drink kind of guy..” He looked confused and stuttered a thanks before she laughed and switched hands. “I’m kidding, please don’t accept it you’ll break my heart. I got you a flat white and picked up some sugar if you take it?”
“Oh. Thank you, I don’t even know what that is.. Although I’m sure it’s lovely. The flat white works better for me.” He took the hot drink, still looking at hers. She offered him a taste and he politely declined. She directed him to walk, in the opposite direction to the house. He followed her, half a beat behind, it felt blasphemous to be walking beside her. She began to explain things to him.
“So, as you’ve no doubt deduced, I am your sponsor. I am responsible for you for the next, well, however long it takes for you to reintegrate.” She took a drink and continued. “You will spend seven weeks in the muggle world without a wand, you’ll have to wear this to syphon off the magic you cannot expel.” She dug into her jeans pocket and handed him a ring; it was warm from her body heat. Draco felt himself blush slightly at the thought and then rolled his eyes at himself. “After seven weeks, provided it goes without incident, you’ll be given your wand back. It’ll only perform lower-level spells, think years 1-4 at Hogwarts level. That’ll last for seven months, during which you’ll continue to live in the muggle world. After seven months, providing again that everything goes well, you can return to your estate and continue your life with semi-frequent checks from the aurors.” She stopped and looked at him. “How does that sound?”
“Why are you doing this for me?” He asked, he simply couldn’t understand why she would put herself on the line like this. He’d be living in her home, with her hostile cat and Luna Lovegood. She didn’t owe him anything and they weren’t friends, he actively bullied her for a long time. If anything, she should be laughing at his inability to leave Azkaban. Instead, she tilted her head to the side as she watched his reaction.
“Because you didn’t tell them who I was.” His brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what she meant. She absentmindedly touched her left arm and he realised. He didn’t tell his insane aunt and the rest of them that she was, in fact, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter’s best friend.
“And for that you’re going to let me live in your house for almost a year?” He looked astounded.
“Well, no good deed goes unpunished, does it Malfoy?” She smiled at him before she turned and continued walking down the road. He felt so exposed in the streets, with the fresh air and sun on his neck and face. The feel of it gave him a shiver. “We’re just going to pick up some food, I haven’t done a shop for a while so there isn’t much in the house. What kind of food do you like?”
He looked at her, blank faced, because he hadn’t been able to choose his meals for such a long time. He could barely remember what he liked. He told her as such and she insisted that he shouldn’t worry, she’ll get a bit of everything, and they’ll figure it out together. She asked him whether he had everything else he needed, if he needed anything else then she’d show him how to buy it. He realised how incompetent he was in that moment. He didn’t know how this world worked, and she was willing to teach him simply because he played dumb once when he was seventeen.
They picked up far more food than they could have eaten, Draco hadn’t realised that the muggle items in the house would keep the food fresh until they wanted to use it. The big white block under the stairs turned out to be a ‘freezer’, this apparently kept food frozen – ‘who’d had guessed it from that name’ he thought to himself – until they wanted to cook it. That evening she had him cutting vegetables, which she’d had to show him how to do, and they made a spaghetti Bolognese together.
“How did you learn to cook like this?” He asked her as they sat at the dining table he’d seen earlier that day.
“Erm, I don’t know. I guess I just.. learned?” She looked unsure how to answer him.
“Oh, it just tastes so much better than anything I’ve eaten in a while.. Like, impossibly better. Without the use of magic.” He looked so impressed that she laughed at him a little. “Sorry, this must be really strange to you. It certainly is for me.”
“I know. It took me a while to decide to do this for you. But as time went on and I realised no one else was going to.. Well, I just couldn’t leave you in there any longer.” His brows furrowed again, and Hermione decided that she liked it when she caused that expression. “I sponsored Pansy Parkinson too; she was only in there for six months, but I’d already gotten this house before then and she needed someone.. My mum always told me to ‘kill them with kindness’ and I’d never tried it until then.”
“And if that doesn’t work, then an Avada should do it.” He joked, offhandedly before looking nervous at what he’d said. She locked eyes with him before she responded.
“Spoken like a true Death Eater.” She saw his face deepen with nerves before her mouth twitched at the sides and he realised she’d been joking aswell.
“Ahh, she has jokes too. Good to know.” They chuckled together before he asked. “How is Parkinson? Did she get on okay?” Hermione nodded at him and stood up, he watched her go to the storage doors next to the chimney and pull out a book.
“She helped me decorate the house. She’s the reason I have a pink door, she encouraged me to put aside other peoples’ opinions and do whatever I wanted.” He laughed and agreed that that sounded like Parkinson. She flipped open the book, he found that there was a wealth of photos in it, some moving and some not. Pansy was in a lot of them with her and the rest of her friends. “It took her a while to warm up to everyone, but she stayed with me past her probation in the end.” She continued to flip the pages until she landed on one with Pansy, wearing a white dress. She was standing next to a tall man with wide shoulders and dark brown hair, wearing a flattering suit. “She married Neville Longbottom.”
“No fucking kidding?” Draco pulled the book close to him and inspected the photo. “You’re lying, that can’t be the Longbottom we went to school with!” His hand covered his mouth as he watched them smile and kiss each other for the camera. “Talk about an ugly duckling. He looks great.” He continued to flip through the pages. The Weasley family were frequent occupants in the pictures, along with Harry Potter and the rest of them. “I thought you’d have been married to him by now.” He nodded to Harry.
“Oh, Merlin no!” She laughed. “Harry is like a brother to me, the idea of seeing each other naked makes us both very sad.” She smiled at Draco, and he continued to be perplexed by her kindness.
“What about Weasley?” He watched her reaction and noticed that she didn’t immediately jump in to defend the honour of their platonic friendship. Instead, she looked away and stacked their plates before returning them to the kitchen. He followed her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s really none of my business.”
“No, I don’t suppose it is.” She said sharply before her shoulders drooped and she apologised. “It’s not your fault, you’re just trying to piece together what you’ve missed. I guess I just.. I still don’t know how to speak about him.” They almost had their first uncomfortable silence, she felt it come over like a black cloud. But he broke the tension.
“Well, whatever he did to fumble the bag with you, he’s an idiot for it.” He gave her a feint smile. “And if the situation calls for it, he never deserved you in the first place.” She huffed a laugh as she began cleaning the plates by hand, along with the pans they’d used. He watched her, intently watched, trying to learn how to do it for her next time.
“You know, I rather think that I was out of his league now that you mention it.” She smiled at him, and he asked if she needed a hand, she declined and finished up quickly. “Right, I suppose you’ll want to see your room at some point, I should have shown you before dinner really.” He disagreed. She took the lead up the stairs, pointing out the first bedroom door which belonged to Luna. The second door was his, third hers and the fourth was a bathroom. She opened the door to his room, and he found that he liked it immediately. She given him neutral tones, unlike the rest of the house that had pink splattered throughout. The bedding was crisp and white, the bedframe was bronze, and there was panelling on the wall behind it. The furniture was a soft oak colour. She opened his draws to show him that his belongings had been delivered and put away for him, quite by magic, she wouldn’t have gone to that effort. There was another door in the far corner, she opened it and it led to a shower room. Small but fit for purpose.
She noticed that he hadn’t really moved since he’d stepped inside, he hadn’t said anything either. She patted him on the arm and said she’d be downstairs if he needed her. He nodded once and she left.
He was overwhelmed by it. He didn’t quite know what to do, he hadn’t expected to be this overcome. He sat on the edge of the bed before lying back onto it. He took several deep breaths as a lone tear dropped past his temple and into his hair. ‘That, is quite enough of that!’ He thought to himself as he sat back up and opened the drawers, looking for something comfortable to wear. He found a pair of trousers, loosely fitting and covered with cartoon dragons. He knew they hadn’t been with his affects, and he smiled at the idea that she’d fetch them just for him. Before he could think too much about it, he stuck them on and made his way downstairs. She had changed too. Bare legs under a fluffy dressing gown, pink of course, with the same dragons on it. And slippers. Also, pink. She turned to see him in the doorway and tried not to spit out the mouthful of tea she’d just sipped.
“See, this is why I sponsored you. I knew you’d be a good sport and wear them with me.” She indicated to another mug of tea for him. “I have to say, I have great taste. We both look fantastic.” Draco laughed at her as he sat on the opposite sofa.
“I’m glad you enjoy dressing me up, I’m going to need all the help I can get where that’s concerned.” He lifted his tea. “Thanks, by the way. For everything.” He got comfortable, which wasn’t hard because the sofas were incredibly plush. “So, who’s meant to be in your portrait then?” He asked, pointing at the rectangle on the wall. She almost lost another mouthful of tea.
“That’s not a portrait. Oh my goodness. Look.” She picked up the remote and clicked it on, the immediate noise from it made him jump a little. “It’s a television.” He declared that he didn’t know what that was and she spent the rest of the evening showing him exactly what a TV was and how to use it.