Dearest Miss Hermione ‘Golden Girl’ Granger,
By now you will have read who this letter is from, and will most likely be considering throwing it into the fire, but please, hear me out. I’ll get straight to the point.
Last night, after a few too many fire whiskeys, myself and my long-time friend Draco Malfoy got to talking about regrets. There are no secrets between us. I’ve simply known him too long for him to be able to lie to me, but I was surprised to discover that, with his tongue loosened with the effects of alcohol, he was keen to tell me all about a relationship he’s kept hidden for seven years. You can imagine my surprise when he said he’d spent a while quietly infatuated with your lovely self. Here I was thinking that his repeated eighth year had been full of soul searching and the pursuit of academic excellence, and now I find out that he spent it pursuing an excellent academic. Scandalous.
I am writing to invite you to the upcoming celebration for Lyra and Leo’s fourth birthday. In discussing our regrets, of which we both have many, Draco revealed that his main one was that his children didn’t know you. I couldn’t get any clarification, as at that point he started wittering on about their names, and then tripped over the rug and lay on the floor for the next ten minutes. I’d explain that he’s a lightweight, but I imagine you actually know that already, don’t you? How delightfully bizarre.
The party is being held in Draco’s house, and has a modest guest list of all the usual slytherins, the names of whom you can probably guess with decent accuracy, as well as ravenclaw’s own Luna Lovegood, who has recently embarked on a tryst with one Pansy Parkinson. If you do accept this invitation, Granger, don’t ask either of them about your stars. You’ll be stuck for days, unless they get their charts out, in which case you’ll be stuck for weeks. Narcissa Malfoy will also be in attendance, to give you apt forewarning. You want to hit the sweet spot with Cissa where she likes you, but not so much that she tries to set you up with her son. If you happen to be able to speak French, do keep that to yourself, or she’ll have a betrothal contract ready before the day is out. I don’t tell you these things to try and scare you away, I just think it’s only fair that you know what you’re walking into.
Please consider it, Granger. You’d be most welcome, I promise.
Yours respectfully, and in a way that evokes a sense of debonair charm,
Theodore Nott
***
Mr Theodore Nott,
To say your letter was a surprise would be something of an understatement. If you’d permit me, I’ll provide the context you’re probably searching for.
Malfoy and I happened slowly. He was always alone in the library, with the rest of the school avoiding him like the plague, and so one day, I sat with him. It wasn’t out of pity. Circe knows we weren’t even civil at that point, but something just told me it was the right thing to do. The alarming realisation that we had a staggering amount in common came rather quickly, and things progressed on from there. I really liked him - was well on my way to falling in love, actually - but we both agreed that it was for the best if we simply left whatever it was behind after graduation. That decision was flimsy, at best, and so we saw each other for a few more months before we actually ended it for good. Neither of us were going to heal from the war if we kept waking up beside each other. To this day, it remains the most boring, sensible decision I’ve ever made. We didn’t keep it a secret intentionally, but it didn’t feel like something we wanted to share, if that makes sense. It probably doesn’t.
The names Lyra and Leo hold significance because I chose them, albeit indirectly. I do, as you say, already know that Malfoy is a lightweight because we often got drunk together in our shared head’s dorm, and one night, we discussed what he might name his children one day. I told him that most of his options were awfully pretentious, but Lyra and Leo held a certain amount of charm. When I saw the birth announcement in the Prophet, I had a very good laugh.
I would love to come to the party, if you’re sure I’d be welcome. I wouldn’t wish to intrude on a family event like that. Having said that, do the children have favourite colours? I know better than to show up empty handed.
As it happens, I do speak French, and will endeavour to keep that a secret. I’d hate to upstage the birthday with an engagement announcement.
Yours sincerely, and apparently scandalously,
Hermione Granger
P.S. My middle name is Jean, rather than ‘Golden Girl’.
***
Something was going on with Theo, and Draco was determined to work out what it was. He’d arrived early, something he never did as he was resolutely not a morning person, and was almost gleeful as he helped decorate the garden. He hadn’t let Draco set the table, insisting that they could leave it until later, and was skittishly glancing at the floo whenever he passed it. It was unsettling, to say the least. It wasn’t until they were upstairs, changing out of their casual clothes, that he decided he had to ask.
“Are you alright? You’ve been strange all morning.” He said, pulling a blue jumper over his head.
Theo paused for a second in doing up his shirt buttons before he looked up at him. “What do you mean strange?” He asked innocently, and Draco simply raised an eyebrow. He sighed. “Ok, fine, I am being strange, but there is a good reason. I may or may not have organised a surprise for later, and I just want to make sure it goes off without incident. I will not be taking further questions at this time.”
“A surprise for the children?” He asked cautiously, and Theo shrugged, smirking.
“I couldn’t possibly say.” He replied, smoothing down the front of his patterned shirt.
“That really is hideous, you know.” Draco said, and Theo shot him an offended look.
“Thousands would disagree. This is the epitome of style!”
“It’s the epitome of something.” He muttered, eyeing the green fabric, covered in white and pink flowers.
The floo sounded, and he ducked out into the hall to see his mother and his two children, back from their special birthday breakfast.
“Mother. How was breakfast?” He asked warmly, kissing her gently on the cheek as Lyra and Leo clung to his legs.
“Lovely, thank you. Leo, my darling, why don’t you tell Daddy all about your pancakes?” She said, and his son nodded enthusiastically.
“It was the biggest pile ever! All the way up to the moon!” He said, stretching his arms wide. Draco laughed, and ruffled his hair.
“That’s a lot of pancakes, buddy. What if you don’t have any room left for cake?” He asked in mock concern.
“Don’t be silly, Daddy. You have to have cake on your birthday, it’s the law.” Lyra replied, and he shared a smile with his mother.
“Of course, how ridiculous of me to even suggest such a thing.”
“Are you trying to deprive the birthday boy and girl? As their godfather, I simply cannot stand for that.” Theo drawled as he swaggered into the room.
“You’re up early, Theodore.” Narcissa said, eyeing his shirt with a raised brow.
“Well, it’s an important day, Cissa.” He replied, picking up Lyra and swinging her around, earning him loud giggles. He, of course, repeated this with Leo. That was the thing about having twins. Everything had to be equal.
“He’s got some sort of surprise he’s excited about. I’m growing more concerned by the hour.” He said to his mother.
“It’s a good surprise! You’ll just have to be patient.” Theo replied, and he shared another sceptical glance with his mother.
Around an hour later, half an hour before the other guests were arriving, the floo sounded, but as Draco entered the kitchen to see who it was, there was nobody there. Theo, breathing suspiciously heavily, appeared from the hall, and did his best to look nonchalant.
“Who have you just hidden in the bathroom, Theo?” He asked.
“What on earth are you talking about? There’s nobody in the bathroom.” He replied, leaning against the doorframe and folding his arms.
“Is this the surprise? Who the hell did you invite? Come on, you can’t force them to hide next to the toilet.” Draco said, and Theo sighed.
“She said she didn’t mind.”
“She?” Draco frowned, his mind moving at a thousand miles an hour.
“Fine, we’ll do the grand reveal early. Close your eyes.” Theo pointed at him as he disappeared back out into the hall. He rolled his eyes before doing as he was told, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Ok, you stand there. Right, on the count of three, you can open.”
“This feels ridiculous, Theo.” A female voice said quietly, but was shushed loudly by Theo, who was clearly set on the dramatics.
“Three, two, one. Surprise!” Theo shouted, doing jazz hands next to Hermione Granger. Hermione Granger, in a burnt orange dress, standing in his kitchen, looking slightly embarrassed. Draco barked out a shocked laugh, and pulled her into a hug.
“I’m so sorry he put you in the bathroom.” He muttered into her hair. She laughed against his chest.
“It’s a very nice bathroom, at least.”
“Why on earth are you here? I didn’t know you knew each other.” He asked as he pulled away, ignoring Theo’s smug expression.
“We don’t, actually. Apparently, you got drunk last week and blabbed about eighth year, and Theo decided to invite me today.” She explained, and he winced.
“Sorry about that. I don’t remember that at all.” He ran a hand through his hair, and she smiled. Gods, he’d missed her smile.
“No harm done. It got me an invitation to the event of the season, so it was worth it, I’d say.” She smirked, gesturing to the garden through the kitchen window.
“Drunk words are sober thoughts, I’ve always found. You told me you wished that you could introduce Granger to the kids, so I wrote to her.” Theo said, and Draco looked at him, incredulous.
“That was really very nice of you, Theo. I didn’t know you were capable of being generous.”
“Oh, you should read the letters he sent me. I’m not sure ‘generous’ is the word I’d use.” Granger said, glancing at Theo knowingly. “What was it? ‘Yours in a way that evokes a sense of debonair charm’?”
“Good gods, mate.” Draco cringed.
“She’s here, isn’t she? Clearly it had the desired effect.” He said defensively, and Granger snorted.
“It absolutely did not, but I was too curious to turn you down.”
“Is this why you wouldn’t let me set the table earlier?” Draco asked, suddenly putting the pieces together.
“Mmhmm. I know what you’re like about fork placement, I didn’t want to stress you out by having to add another setting last minute.” Theo replied, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“Oh! Well, if there's anything I can help with.” Granger offered, but Draco shook his head.
“You’re here as a guest, Granger, I can’t put you to work.”
“It’s setting the table for a child’s party, Malfoy, it’s hardly putting me to work.” She shot back.
At that point, his mother appeared, a smile spreading across her face.
“I thought I heard voices. Hermione, it’s been far too long.” She said, taking Granger’s hands in hers.
“Ah yes, Mother, might I introduce Theo’s surprise?” He said, gesturing towards the witch.
“You know each other?” Theo asked, and Hermione laughed lightly.
“You don’t date Draco Malfoy for nearly two years without Narcissa finding out about it.”
“When the Manor was being renovated, Hermione very kindly invited us to spend Christmas with her family in France. I am still in regular contact with her mother, Hélène, but this young lady has not written to me in a very long time.” She looked at Granger disapprovingly, who smiled apologetically.
“I am sorry about that, Narcissa. I hadn’t realised it had been so long.” She said, and Draco frowned at the pair of them.
“I didn’t know you kept in touch.” He said, and his mother smiled.
“I saw no reason not to. You may not have worked out, but I always enjoyed hearing from Hermione.”
“So when I warned you about-” Theo started, but Hermione cut him off with a laugh.
“Yes, that was a little redundant.” She said. She turned to Narcissa. “In his letter, Theo told me that you’d try to marry me off to Draco if you found out I spoke French.” The older witch laughed heartily, and Draco shared an uncomfortable glance with his friend, becoming wary of the two women and their apparent close friendship. In truth, Hermione had always gotten on well with his mother, in a way that Astoria had never quite managed. When he told her that they’d broken up, she’d appeared more upset than he was.
“Now, you simply must meet the children, Hermione. We can’t stand around in the kitchen all day.” Narcissa said, taking her arm and leading her into the other room.
“I hadn’t been expecting this.” Theo said, staring after them.
“I’d honestly forgotten that they were like that.” Draco replied, a smile taking over his face. His treacherous heart tried to catch his attention, but he resolutely ignored it.
“They’re very nice names.” Granger said, sidling up to him a little later as they both watched the twins playing with Theo on the carpet. Narcissa was outside, ensuring the decorations met her meticulous standards.
“Oh, don’t be smug, Granger, it doesn’t suit you.” He replied, and she grinned. “I liked your poems.” He turned to her.
“Now who’s being smug?” She raised an eyebrow, and he laughed.
“I would have ordered a copy of the book, but I figured there wasn’t much point.”
“I suppose not, when you’ve got the originals.” She said, watching the children with a soft smile.
“It’s exponentially increased the value of my collection, so I suppose I should thank you for that.” He mused, and she laughed. He looked at her again, more serious. “Not that I’d ever sell them.”
“I brought you a present too.” She said suddenly, nodding towards three neatly wrapped gifts that sat on the side table. “You could open it now, then I can explain how it works.”
“They’re all the same?” He asked, picking up the three distinctly book-shaped parcels.
“They are, but yours is the blue one. I got different colours because- Well, you’ll see.” She smiled, and he put the green and purple presents back on the table.
“You didn’t have to bring anything.” He said, smiling down at the bright blue paper.
“My mother would disown me on the spot if she ever found out I arrived without a gift, Malfoy, but even if that weren’t true, I wanted to bring something.” He looked up at her, his heart beating a little faster at the earnest expression on her face, before he carefully tore open the paper. In his hands was a leather bound journal, with a navy blue cover, his initials inscribed in silver across the front of it. He looked at Granger again.
“Thank you, it’s beautiful.” He said, and she laughed.
“You don’t even know what it does. Hold on.” She accio’d her bag - wandlessly and wordlessly, he noted - and fished out a matching journal, hers in burgundy red. Tapping her wand on both books, she got a quill out of her apparently bottomless bag, and scribbled inside. “Open it.” She urged, and he did just that, finding the word ‘hello’ in her handwriting on the first page.
“How did you do that?” He furrowed his brow, and she grinned.
“It’s something I’ve been working on with George Weasley for his shop. The journals connect together, so you can communicate in a more instantaneous way. The idea was initially for parents sending their children to Hogwarts, to try and alleviate some of the worry that remains about safety after the war, but I think there are a lot of applications for them. After I do the spell, which I can teach you if you’re interested, yours will be connected to Lyra’s and Leo’s, so you can all write to each other.” She explained, and he gaped at her.
“But that’s brilliant.” He whispered, awestruck by the thing he was holding as well as the witch in front of him.
“I was quite pleased with it, yes.” She replied, and he laughed at how humble she was.
“Granger, I mean it. How are you so casual about this? It could revolutionise how we communicate in the wizarding world forever. You’re ridiculous!” He said, and she blushed.
“They’re still in the testing phase, but it’s pretty much ready to go.”
“Wait, so these are some of the first ones?” He asked, and she nodded. “Thank you so much. I mean, this is such a genius idea, and we get to be the first to try it out. I don’t know what to say.”
“I asked Theo about the colours for the twins, but I remembered you told me once that you always preferred blue to green, so.” She gestured to the book, and he stared at her. “I’d love to know how you get on with them, if there’s anything that could be improved. If you’re ok with being my guinea pigs, that is.”
“Guinea pigs?” He looked at her, and she laughed.
“Test subjects.”
“Oh, absolutely. I’ll do you a fifty page report if you so desire.” He replied, and she smiled.
“That would be very much appreciated.”
He placed the book carefully on the table, and pulled her into another hug. “I missed you.” He said quietly.
“I missed you too.” She replied, her face in his chest.
***
Draco was struggling to remember why he’d ever let Granger go. As he sat on the bench, nursing a butterbeer, watching the witch play with his children and Gregory bloody Goyle of all people, he knew with absolute certainty that he didn’t want her to leave again.
“If you pine much harder, you’re going to strain yourself.” Pansy drawled as she sat down next to him, a knowing smirk on her face.
“I am not-” He started, but she cut him off.
“You are, and we both know it. I don’t blame you, that’s a terribly domestic scene, even if Greg is ruining the view somewhat.”
“I already mucked that up once, Pans. What if we break up again? I’ve got the children to think about now.” He said, and she rested her head on his shoulder.
“Theo tells me that it was a classic case of right person, wrong time. I think it’s glaringly obvious, my love, that the right time has now arrived.”
“How can you know that?” He asked. She huffed.
“Seven years ago, you broke up for stomach churningly responsible reasons. Theo writes her a letter, out of the blue, that says you want to see her, and here she is, no questions asked. She brought you and your kids the perfect gift, she didn’t bat an eye when we left the empty chair for Stori, and she handled all of these awkward reintroductions with such astounding grace and class that I think she’s even surprised Cissa with how poised she is. Hell, I’d date her myself if I wasn’t a happily taken woman. You can’t be held back by insecurity. You’ve got to take this chance, Draco.”
“I loved her, Pans. And I never told her.” He said quietly.
“Good job you’ve been given another opportunity then, isn’t it?” She replied.
He sighed. “Theo is going to be insufferably smug about this.”
“Yep.” She agreed. “His best man speech at your wedding will be the most self-congratulatory crock of shit that was ever spoken.”
“Shit.” He breathed nervously, and Pansy sat up, wrapping her arms around his torso.
“Be a little more gryffindor. There must be some courage in there somewhere.” She whispered, squeezing him tightly.
“I didn’t think I’d get to…After Stori, I-” He tailed off, and she held him tighter.
“I know. But it’s not about what you think you deserve, love. Stori told you to chase happiness, she’d want this for you and the kids.”
He let out a shaky breath, and broke out of her hold to sling an arm over her shoulders.
“How did we pull this off, Pans?” He asked. Greg had sloped off in search of a drink, and had been replaced by an entirely more enthusiastic Luna, who appeared to be teaching the three of them how to do some sort of dance.
“Fuck knows. We must have been saints in our past lives.”
“You reckon Lovegood’s it for you?” He asked, looking down at his friend.
“I really think she might be, you know. Gods, imagine telling our younger selves that we’d end up here.” She grimaced. Draco laughed, before his attention was once again on Granger, who had been flagged down by Blaise to discuss the marinade he’d put on the chicken he brought with him. He couldn’t hear them, but Blaise hadn’t spoken about much else since he’d arrived, and as soon as he’d spotted Granger in attendance, he’d wanted her opinion on the spice level. Apparently it was ‘white people appropriate’, whatever that was supposed to mean.
“They’d have never believed us.” He replied, and Pansy hummed.
“They were little shits.”
“Certainly were.”
“I think we might have to keep you.” Draco said as he sat down next to Granger under the tree. Blaise and Daphne were showing Lyra and Leo how to fly on the new kiddie brooms they’d received, whilst the others started cleaning up after an early dinner. Narcissa had all but attached Granger to the tree to stop her from helping. She’d already ended up cooking Blaise’s chicken for him, as well as plating up everything else that they’d prepared, and making sure everyone got some cake after the candles were blown out. She had slipped into the role so naturally, it was like she’d always done it. He was long past the pining stage by now. He was in the midst of something far worse.
“Eh, I could think of worse things.” She shrugged, throwing him a smirk as she tilted her head back.
“I’m serious. I’m so glad you came today.”
“Me too. I very nearly didn’t, but I’ve had fun. I hope Leo and Lyra had a good birthday.” He smiled. She just kept saying all the right things, and he was struggling to know what to do about it, even after his aggressive pep talk earlier.
“Why did you come? I mean, none of these people are really your friends, aside from Luna and my mother, apparently.”
She leant her head back against the tree. “In his letter, Theo said that you told him one of your biggest regrets was that your children didn’t know me. I just couldn’t stop thinking about that. I mean, with all due respect, you’ve got bigger things to regret than that.” She glanced at him, and he nodded slowly. “I’d always wondered if I should have made more of an effort to stay in touch with you, but I didn’t want Astoria to feel awkward, and then she passed, and it just felt inappropriate. I went back and forth on the invitation for days, but in the end, I decided that maybe it was time.”
“Both lost in the dark, we guide one another. It might be in circles, but how would we know? Right person, wrong time, we both could admit. You need light and space in order to grow.” He recited, and she stared at him.
“You do not have that memorised.” She said, and he smirked.
“I’ll do the whole thing if you want me to.”
“Merlin, please don’t. I hate people reading my own poetry at me.” She groaned.
“It’s not my favourite one, though.” He said, and she sighed.
“Go on then, enlighten me.”
“I speak to the dragon, the one made of stars.” He started, and she sat upright.
“That one isn’t in the book.” She squeaked, and he smirked.
“It isn’t, no, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be my favourite.”
“I strongly suspect the odd thought will seep through?” She raised an eyebrow, and he smiled.
“Now you’re getting it.”
“Draco, your children-”
“Adore you. As does my mother. As do I.” He cut in. “What if it is time, Hermione? We aren’t the people we were in eighth year, we’ve done our healing. I’ve been racking my brain all day, and I can’t think of any reason why I should logically let you go again. I’m not sure if I can.”
“Today felt so natural. I came prepared for it to be the most awkward day of my life, but it’s like this is where I’m supposed to be. Gods, that’s awfully close to divination, isn’t it? What have you done to me?” She turned to face him, and he laughed before deciding it was now or never. He decided to put himself on the line.
“Seven years ago, Hermione Granger, I fell in love with you, and I never told you that. It took about ten minutes for those feelings to start to come back. I would very much like to see what we could do a good few years, maybe a bit longer?”
“Well, my schedule is pretty clear. I suppose I could get on board with that.” She replied, feigning nonchalance. She grinned at him as he shot her a withering look. “Alright, fine. Seven years ago, Draco Malfoy, I fell in love with you. Then I spent a very long time in denial, and wrote about a thousand poems instead of talking to you like a normal person would. If you’ll have me, I would like to see where this might go.”
“I will absolutely, definitely have you.” He replied, intertwining their fingers as she laughed.
“You really liked your journal then?” She asked.
“It’s my favourite colour. What chance did I have?”
“I’ll have to charm you another one, so you can talk to me too.”
He kissed her hand gently. “I’d like that.”
“We’ll have to go slowly. I want to consider Lyra and Leo in this.” She said, and he nodded.
“That sort of concern is why I’m really not worried. We broke up amicably the first time, if, and I am praying to all of the gods that it never happens, but if we do end up in that position again, I reckon we could manage a friendship.”
“I don’t want to be friends with you, Draco.”
“I’d really rather not be friends with you, Hermione, if it’s a straight choice.” He grinned, and she smiled. “All I’m saying is that I am intending on keeping you in my life now, in whatever form that happens to take. I’ve got a preference, obviously, but I’ll be happy with anything I can get.”
“I can work with that.” She replied, and he felt something settle within his soul. She glanced towards the house, and then looked back at him. “We’ve got an audience.” She said.
He turned and found most of his friends and his mother ogling the pair of them through the window, and smiled. He elbowed Hermione gently, and they both waved, laughing as the nosy group scattered, pretending that they hadn’t been staring.
Blaise then pushed the twins in their general direction as he led Daphne inside, a wry smile on his face. Leo plonked himself on top of Hermione, wrapping his arms around her waist, as Lyra did much the same with Draco. As she smiled and kissed his son’s head gently, Draco knew for certain that this was what he wanted his life to look like. Rather than a poetic ending, a poetic beginning.
***
In Memory Of The Titaness
I’d like to tell you a story, but I warn you, it’s sad.
It’s about a boy with no choices, who lives in the sky.
He’s spent his life looking down, in more ways than one.
I’ve spent my life watching innocence die.
His tongue may be sharp, but his mind is much sharper.
It’s been a while since I realised that it wasn’t forked.
I did spit my contempt for that certain snake,
Like French wine it would flow once I was uncorked.
The truth, now I see it, is far more complex.
Time spent with him was eye opening.
History’s written by victors, they dance in the streets.
Ignoring old wounds, learn to live with the sting.
He knows death all too well for one still so young.
I imagine he greets it like an old friend.
The wandering island, graceful and kind.
I shed a tear as he watched her ascend.
An unbreakable bond, serious as a vow.
When family leave, upon friends we rely.
No longer alone with those two precious stars.
I wish I could join you, up there in the sky.
***
To Find The Light In The Dark
It’s hard to write something that’s not about you.
After all, it was you that I started this for.
Why is every poem of hers about stars all the time?
I reply that my hope the stars did restore.
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
An earthbound quote for the one that stays grounded.
Memories are stubborn, reminds me of you.
Forever wasn’t for us, as nice as it sounded.
Both lost in the dark, we guide one another.
It might be in circles, but how would we know?
Right person, wrong time, we both could admit.
You need light and space in order to grow.
She wrote to me, told me you talk in your sleep.
My name on your lips, together in dreams.
We needed time, it’s been for the best.
We needed to learn how to dance in sunbeams.
Now we’re older and wiser, we’ve lived out in the world.
You found what you wanted, they’re safe in your arms.
I’m so happy for you, wherever you are,
But I’ll always remember falling for your charms.
***
Pour Mon Ciel Étoilé
I speak to the dragon, the one made of stars.
I want to know where he goes when he sleeps.
I want to ask something too personal.
I want him to know I can hear when he weeps.
You see that stubborn old dragon, he does not like to share.
You push him too far, and he’ll shut down on you.
He’s seen way too much, just as I have.
We both dwell on things that we cannot undo.
There’s a place in my heart, if he wants it or not.
Could it be that the dragon has met his match?
A golden girl, or a golden snitch.
I’ll cheer him on as he makes the catch.
I want him to know that I know what this is.
I don’t write our initials wrapped in a heart.
One day I might, if we both were braver.
I’d love it all, every single part.
Whatever we have will stay inside these walls.
I strongly suspect the odd thought will seep through.
I do want to say, though, whilst I still can,
It would be my honour to love, and be loved, by you.