Everything the Light Touches

The following morning, Draco was awoken by the smell of breakfast. Breakfast of the Gods if he was to guess. He’d half expected to wake up back in the prison, and all of this to be a dream. A smile crept onto his face when he realised it wasn’t, his first day out of Azkaban had been more enjoyable than he’d expected. Especially after learning that Hermione Granger was his sponsor. And now here he was, sliding back into the dragon pyjama trousers that she’d bought him and stepping lightly down the stairs to find the source of the smell.

He hadn’t been expecting Edgar to be on the second to last step at the bottom, hadn’t thought to look for him. Both of them jumped into action as Draco stepped onto his tail. Edgar yelped and ran up the stairs, practically jumping off of Luna’s bedroom door and rounding the corner. Draco missed the last step and stumbled into the wall that the front door stood on, grunting loudly as his shoulder made contact. He hadn’t noticed Luna by the door to the living room until she tittered a laugh at him, asking if he was okay.

“Uh.. Yeah, sorry I think I’m fine. Do you think he’s okay?” He pondered, tilting his head to the stairs.

“I imagine he’s fine, that happens often when there are unfamiliar people in the house. You get used to it after a while and start to miss that step entirely.” She spoke just as lightly as she had the day before as she moved toward the kitchen. “Breakfast?” He nodded back at her as his heartrate finally started to come back down. That cat would be the death of him, he was absolutely certain.

Hermione was standing over some device, a waffle maker, he would find out later. There was a bowl of chopped fruit on the counter that Luna squeezed past him to place on the table. There was a plate of hot bacon, a jug of something and a plate of fresh waffles beside Hermione. She motioned for him to take them through to the table too, saying she’d be two minutes. He went through to see that there were three places set, and each one had a coffee, he thanked Merlin internally for that as he added milk to his. Luna made small talk about what she had planned for the day, and he politely told her he had no plans yet. He wasn’t even sure what he could do.

“Well, what would you like to do?” Hermione asked as she rounded the corner into the room, placing the waffles on the table.

“I’ve never been part of the muggle world so; I have no idea.” He said as he watched both women load up their plates with bacon, waffles, and the syrup from the jug. “Really, sweet stuff with bacon?” He looked slightly disgusted.

“You should try it, it’s one of mankind’s greatest inventions.” Luna offered as she took a huge mouthful. He declined and opted for syrup and fruit.

“Fortunately for you, I had already considered that so I’ve written a list of things we could do.” She passed him a piece of paper and he looked through it. “I’m between work right now so I’ll be spending the next few weeks showing you how to exist in the muggle world. It might be daunting at first, but I promise it’s easy once you’re used to it.”

“What do you do? When you are working I mean.” He asked politely, he’d already gathered that Luna worked at Hogwarts, though he hadn’t determined what she did yet.

“I’m an author.” She stated plainly, as she drank her coffee now that she was done with her food. “I can take time off whenever I like, it’s not that important.” She shrugged and leaned back in her chair as Luna leaned forwards.

“She’s being modest! She’s one of the bestselling authors in the muggle world, her first set of books saw to that.” Draco asked for more details and Luna happily obliged as Hermione watched on. “They were about Harry Potter’s life, but she obviously claimed them as a work of fiction. We’re all in them, under pseudonyms of course.”

“All of us?” Draco’s eyes flickered between the two of them.

“Yes. All of us.” Hermione fixed him with a stare as he cleared his throat.

“I’ll have to read them one day.” He smiled at her, and she frowned back at him.

Hermione decided to show Draco how to use his new bank card, he had been utterly bewildered by the machine that they’d used to take money from his account. After all the time he’d spent in Gringott’s during his childhood, he couldn’t believe how quickly the muggles did it. The money itself was confusing too, so they sat in a local quiet pub together with a glass of coke. Draco had found the bubbles off-putting at first, likening them to the same way that pins and needles felt, but after a few sips he changed his mind. She showed him the notes and the coins, stating that the notes were for bigger denominations and the coins were for smaller ones. Which again, made absolutely no sense to him.

Instead, she decided to put it into practice and take him shopping. She selected a random price on the shelves and had him figure out which coins or notes would be enough to pay. The same as the wizarding world, you didn’t have to pay with the exact amount, change was given. That made things far easier for him. She had the patience of a saint, he decided, after he spent a while complaining that pence and pounds were too similar, and muggles should have chosen a different name for one. She’d actually found his struggles somewhat amusing, but she only said so quietly and never laughed at a mistake when he made it at the tills. He realised that she was a much better person than he was, because he absolutely would have.

By midafternoon he was feeling a little less useless with the muggle money and now it would just take time and practice to keep up. She had shown him the local supermarket again and had him take the lead when picking and purchasing at the tills. By the time they were back at the house Edgar was whining for his dinner, he watched Hermione serve it up, committing it to memory so that he’d feel less useless when the time came that he needed to dish it up.

Draco found the sofas were calling his name, so he made himself comfortable as he heard Hermione in the kitchen doing something or other. That was when he noticed the bookcase that sat along the same wall as the door, he hadn’t seen it yesterday, having been too distracted by the TV. He spotted her books immediately and couldn’t help himself but to flick through them quickly. He realised he’d picked a later one up as he read about Dumbledor’s army, his eyes only leaving the page when he heard her enter.

“Ah. I wondered when you’d spot them.” She said with a small smile as she placed two mugs on the coffee table. “You’re welcome to read them whenever you want.”

“Yeah. I’m not sure I’m prepared to face who I am in them yet.” He looked away from her and place the book back on the shelf. “I know you’re doing this for me now, but that doesn’t erase the reality of who I was back then..” She sat down on the sofa with her drink, watching him fumble his way through this conversation. “I’m sorry you know.. I don’t really know how to talk about it but.. I am sorry.”

She smiled at him, as he took a seat opposite and picked up his drink, waiting for her response. “All of us had childhoods that we had to recover from, Malfoy.” His brow furrowed, not knowing what to say. “Children bullying other children is normal, unfortunately. But in a school where we were bullied by teachers and reporters, I think what you did is negligible at this point.” They looked at each other as her words settled within him.

“It was still shitty though, I am sorry.” He stated.

“I’m not saying it wasn’t, you were vile in school to be sure but.. You were conditioned by the adults around you to believe that you were greater than us.” She shrugged.

“But that doesn’t make it okay!” He insisted.

“Do you want me to hold it against you? Would that make you feel better?” She levelled him with a glare, and he sunk back into the sofa with his eyes on the floor as he took a sip of his tea. “You were seventeen at the time of the Battle of Hogwarts, I’m not going to hold you eternally at fault for things you did as a child..” She rose from the sofa with an empty mug after drinking the last of it. “I don’t get to absolve you of your sins, Malfoy, but I don’t get to judge you for them either. We all did what we had to do to survive. Read the books, you’ll see I’m not innocent either.”

He watched her leave the room, he found that he had nothing to say. She might have been right, maybe he did want her to hold it against him. He couldn’t understand how she had managed to forgive him when he couldn’t even forgive himself. He heard her in the kitchen, just going about her life and found himself glad that she’d managed to do something with herself. Found that he was glad she’d made it out in the end. He rose from the sofa to take his empty mug through too and saw that she hadn’t washed hers yet, so he did it. It took him a few moments to realise she’d stopped moving around and was stood observing him.

Draco realised that he was wholly unprepared to be around a woman, especially one that was watching him intently. He considered that she was simply making sure he did it right but.. He couldn’t help the light headedness that came with the feeling of her eyes on him. As he was drying his hands she asked if he fancied going out again, she was going to meet a few people for drinks.

“Pansy will be there.” She offered but he shook his head.

“I can barely deal with socialising on this level yet, I need more time before…” He stared out the window, thinking about the fact that he could now, legally, go out and have a drink. He could sit at a bar with anyone, friend, or foe, and throw back whiskey until he couldn’t walk. She encouraged him to take all the time he needed, that there was no rush before grabbing her shoes and coat. “You’re leaving now?”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I won’t be back late. I’ll be at the same pub we went to earlier, if you change your mind or need anything.” She looked at his hand, where his syphoning ring was placed and nodded.

He spent the first thirty minutes alone reading the beginning of the first book she had written; he was interested in finding out what shenanigans the three of them got up to. But he found himself unable to concentrate after several chapters and slipped it back into the bookcase. The photo album she’d produced from the cupboard was drawing him back in, he went to find it but ended up finding several more. He sat them on the table as he flicked through them, in true Hermione style they had been in age order. The one from school contained newspaper clippings of their various adventures and mishaps. He saw himself in the background of one of the photos of her, staring at the back of her head with a disgusted expression to rival his fathers. He didn’t know it then, but he’d grow to really hate that picture, and yet it would draw him back several more times.

The later photo albums contained a treasure map of her life, the things she’d done and the people she’d met. All the things she’d experienced whilst he was locked in a cage, it weighed on him, the time that he’d missed. He saw her go from photos with Ron, to photos across the continent of Europe. At weddings and birthdays, with babies and small children. He saw so many photos of her with Pansy that he realised she’d meant it when she said she forgave him. His heart felt heavy when he realised he wasn’t and probably would never be this happy, this connected, this fulfilled. How could he be? He might have served his time but in the court of public opinion, it would never be enough. He’d decided that for society, instead of actually asking.

He lingered on the last photo, which contained Luna, Pansy, Ginny and Hermione. They were on a beach somewhere, sitting on sunbeds and raising a toast to the camera. Each of them wearing a bikini, some more revealing than others, and he felt his body remember how it felt to be touched by another. He slammed the book closed before he could think any further on it and put them all away. The television would have to do this evening, it was mindless drivel from what he could tell.

Hermione stepped into the pub and was immediately greeted by Ginny, a warm embrace and a kick from the baby that grew within her. Harry and Neville greeted her with a nod, and Pansy placed a large glass of rosé in her hand. She sat with them as she watched Cormac and Theodore play pool across the room, both too engrossed in their game to notice her. She sat at the table with them, acutely aware of the staring.

“Well, tell us then!” Pansy insisted, she’d thought Hermione insane for this endeavour and declared it would last a week before he was shipped off elsewhere. Hermione rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink.

“What? It’s been two days. There’s nothing to tell.” Hermione claimed. Ginny joined Pansy on her crusade for information, they jointly hounded her for several moments. “He’s.. Quiet. You know what it’s like in there Pansy, there’s no contact with anyone outside of the guards and now he’s living with two women.” Harry insisted that she should bring him next time they come for a few drinks. “I asked him today, he isn’t ready, which is understandable.”

“What, so he’s just at your house alone?!” Ginny gasped.

“Yeah, everything’s warded and I have the ring, so I’ll know if he does something questionable.” Hermione looked at the ring on her finger, the one that matched his. Yes, it would syphon his excess magic, but it would also monitor him to a degree. Any extreme emotion, excessively high heart rate or removal would be received by her ring. It wasn’t intended to be invasive; he was a fully autonomous human being with rights after all, but it allowed her to keep him safe. She looked over at the pool table again, the two men had wrapped up their game and were settling scores before returning. Cormac grinned widely at the sight of her, and she smiled slightly back. They’d had a drunken one-night stand six months ago so of course; he was ready to marry her. Ginny believed it was her disinterest in him that encouraged his behaviour because he wasn’t usually the type to be this way. But Hermione simply couldn’t bring herself to feign interest. It had been a good night, to his credit but after Ron she didn’t have the energy to care for a man again.

Cormac sat opposite her on the table, making polite small talk and asking about Draco with a hint of jealousy. Not entirely unexpected but definitely unneeded. Theo enquired to the whereabouts of Luna, the only person he was ever truly interested in seeing. Her free-spirited nature was the only thing that rivalled his ridiculous sense of humour, they turned out to be a very cute couple in the end. It took months for either of them to make a move, and even then it was only because Harry had grown tired of hearing about it all the time. Harry had been Theo’s sponsor, encouraged by Hermione’s success with Pansy. The conversation turned away from Draco and onto everyone’s summer plans. Hermione had none yet.

Two hours later she felt Draco’s heartrate increase through the ring, and feelings of confusion and despair. She excused herself and went home.

“Malfoy, I’m back.” She announced, noticing that the TV was on in the living room, but the light was not. She made her way inside and saw him sat on the edge of the sofa watching a news programme. “Are you okay?” He continued to stare at the screen with his hand over his mouth and shook his head. She turned the TV off. “What’s happening?” He turned to her, his eyes wide and scared.

“Did you know that the muggles are at war?” He fretted. She stated that she did. “How can you be so cavalier about it?”

“The muggles are always at war, Malfoy.” She stated as she closed the curtains and sat beside him.

“Who are they at war with?” He gave her a look of genuine panic.

“Each other.” She said dismissively. He insisted she shouldn’t be so casual about it. “This is just what the muggles do.”

“How can everyone just go about their daily lives like it’s nothing?” He grew annoyed when she said it wasn’t anything to worry about. “They showed pictures of cities in ruin, so it really isn’t nothing to worry about!”

“Please, Malfoy, you have to calm down. That’s happening on an entirely different continent to us, I promise you that we are safe.” She took his shaking hand in hers and clasped it tightly. He looked down as if he couldn’t quite believe she’d done it, but she didn’t let go. “If this was something you needed to worry about, I would have told you right away.”

“Promise me you’ll tell me if it becomes that?” He insisted.

“Only if you promise me that you won’t watch the news anymore?” She requested, if only for his own sanity. He agreed and she squeezed his hand and offered him a smile. He drew in a large breath and exhaled as he leaned back into the sofa and placed his free hand on his face. She watched him lock his jaw and close his eyes as he breathed. Their hands still clasped she leaned next to him, facing him. “I’m so sorry, I feel like I should have predicted this.” He just shook his head.

“You never have to apologise to me, Granger. I’m sorry if I’ve ruined your night.” He removed his hand from his face and looked at her again. She shook her head.

“You’ll have to do a lot more than that to ruin my night.” He began rubbing her hand with his thumb as they continued to hold onto each other. They lay there until she could no longer feel his emotions and heartrate through the ring and his thumb had stopped moving. She looked up at him to realise he’d fallen asleep. His jaw was still locked, she hadn’t realised how strong his jawline was until then. His eyelashes were incredibly long too, which was simply unfair she decided. It didn’t take her long to drift off too, maybe four large glasses of wine was entirely too many after all.

He awoke beside her with a start, heart still racing from a dream he could not remember. He looked around and noticed he was still in the living room; he hadn’t intended to fall asleep. Then he felt her hand twitch in his, having not realised she was still there it made him jump slightly. He watched her sleep for significantly longer than she had him. Not to admire her delicate little nose or the perfect arch of her eyebrows but just to know that he was no longer alone in this world. He’d actually never woken up next to a woman before, Hogwarts restricted access for the dormitories and his mother would never have allowed it at home. He concentrated on the warmth her hand provided in his, it had been so long since anyone had held his hand. He listened to the steady and constant sound of her breathing. He’d seen this woman cry under the weight of his words as a girl, but he’d never seen her this vulnerable before. The thought of her allowing herself to be in this position made him feel things. Not the same things he’d felt when he’d seen the photo of her on the beach. This felt warm, cosy and maybe even a little sweet.