Terribly Saccharine Parental Energy
Terribly Saccharine Parental Energy
Harry never came back from his meeting. They’d waited in their usual spot in the gryffindor common room, with Ron and Ginny’s time slots being much later in the day, but he hadn’t shown up. Hermione wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, if it meant he was with his new partner or if he was simply hiding from everyone. Her meeting time came round much faster than she would have liked, but at 10:45 she stood from her chair, and asked her friends to wish her luck. Ron wrapped her in a tight hug, and Ginny squeezed her hand comfortingly. She nodded, steeled herself, and held her head high as she made her way to McGonagall’s office. She knocked, and the headmistress called her inside straight away.
“Miss Granger, how are you feeling?”
“I’m not sure, if I’m honest, Professor. Do you know I got 100% compatibility?”
“I did know, yes. I also know who you’ve been matched with, and I hope you’re ready for this. I don’t want to worry you, but it will be a shock.”
“Oh. Well, I’ve been keeping an open mind, I’m sure we can work something out.”
“I truly hope that is the case, Miss Granger.” McGonagall replied, almost cringing, and Hermione was flooded with panic at who the hell she’d been matched with for the headmistress to be having such a reaction.
At that moment, there was a knock on the office door, and Hermione was met with familiar blonde hair. Her stomach dropped to the floor.
She whirled round to face McGonagall, who at least had the decency to look guilty, despite Hermione knowing she had no part in this law.
Draco Malfoy sat down in the chair next to her, and she glanced at him quickly, taking in his expression. He looked like he was going to be sick. He was so pale, paler than usual. The last time he’d looked like that was when he was conducting his secret mission for Voldemort.
“Mr Malfoy, as you see, this is your partner.” McGonagall gestured to Hermione, who was ringing her hands uncontrollably.
“This can’t be right, Professor, surely you see that?” He said, and Hermione was surprised to find his tone held no trace of anger or disgust, as she’d been expecting. He sounded tired, like he was begging her to reconsider.
“I was surprised, Mr Malfoy, I’ll admit, but the Ministry assures me that the testing was accurate.” She replied in a short tone, and Hermione just stared forwards, not daring to look at Malfoy, as if that would make it more real somehow.
“There’s nothing you can do for her?” Malfoy asked, and Hermione turned in shock, looking at Malfoy for the first time since he’d entered the room. His phrasing was deeply surprising, as if getting her out of this situation was his priority, rather than himself. He looked at his quickly out of the corner of his eye, and her breath caught.
“I’m afraid this is it, for both of you. I won’t sport with your intelligence by speaking of the past, we all know exactly what has happened between you two. You have the scars to prove it, the memories, all of it. I only ask that you treat each other with respect as you begin this journey. The compatibility doesn’t lie, but there is a lot between you already that needs to be worked through. I won’t belittle any of it. You are both intelligent people, and I honestly wish you the best. Mr Malfoy, this is your second chance, I hope you recognise that.” She clasped her hands on the desk as she eyed Malfoy, who nodded slightly.
Hermione stood first, doing her best not to run to the door, and turned to thank McGonagall, who was looking at her with a face full of pity. Hermione didn’t like that, she didn’t want pity.
They got out into the empty corridor, and Hermione pressed her back to the stone wall, enjoying the cold feeling against her.
“Well fuck, Granger.” Malfoy said, standing opposite her.
“That’s one way to put it, I suppose.” She replied, closing her eyes and tilting her head back to rest against the wall.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked in a flat tone. He almost sounded bored, a total change from the way he’d spoken to McGonagall not two minutes ago.
She opened her eyes and met his gaze. “Do you want to talk about it?” She shot back, and he scoffed lightly.
“Not really. But I think we need to.”
“Yeah, I guess we do. We could go to the lake?” She suggested, and he nodded, walking off without waiting for her. He stalked through the halls quickly, forcing her to keep up with his lengthy stride. She assumed it was some sort of show of dominance over her, a way to pretend she wasn’t actually behind him and this wasn’t really happening. She hadn’t processed it yet, she was fairly certain she was in shock, actually.
They reached the lakeside, and he slumped down against a tree, bending his legs at the knees, resting his elbows on top of them. She sat down against another tree to his left, close to him, but not too close. Subconsciously, she felt for her wand in her pocket, feeling comforted by the wood. She didn’t think he’d try anything, but she liked knowing it was there all the same.
“I didn’t know Potter was gay.” He said suddenly, and Hermione looked at him in shock.
“What?” She replied, and he met her gaze, eyebrows furrowed.
“He hasn’t told you who he’s with?” He asked, and she shook her head. “Oh. Well, I guess they have been together all morning. He got Theo.”
“Nott?” She said, and he nodded. “Oh.”
They were quiet for a while, listening to the water lap on the shore. She fiddled with the grass beneath her as she pondered on Harry’s pairing. He had told them he might end up with a wizard. If she’d had more cognitive awareness, she might have found comfort in the similarity of their situation, war heroes matched with former death eaters. As it was, her head was uncharacteristically empty. She simply watched the water.
“I’m sorry.” Malfoy said quietly, not looking at her.
“For?”
“All of it. But this, specifically. You deserve better.” He spat out, voice full of disgust. She was finding it a struggle to work out the Malfoy in front of her. She’d expected wisecracks about her blood status, how his father would be hearing about this, how he’d never belittle or demean himself with her, no matter what the Ministry said, but she’d got none of that. He’d shown disgust, but at himself. Like he believed she was too good for him. That was such a departure from the Malfoy of old that she struggled to comprehend it.
“You think the 100% is true?” She asked him, remembering how he had also been curious about the calculations this morning.
“I don’t see how it can be. We couldn’t be more different.” He said, throwing a leaf despondently.
“What’s Theo like? I’ve spoken to him a couple of times, but not about anything significant. Harry had 99%, do you think they’re that similar?” She was growing in confidence now. He didn’t seem to mind her presence as much as she’d assumed he would, so she figured she’d see how many questions he was willing to answer.
“Theo is the best person I know. Not once did he believe in any of the shit I did, not once. If I’d just listened to him-” He cut himself off, turning away from her. She was heartened to know that Theo had never been a blood purist. Perhaps he truly would be happy with Harry. She figured that was a little too personal for his tastes, though, so she asked something else.
“How do you think they calculate the percentages? I’d like to know what sort of things they base it on.”
He paused for a second, before turning back to her, but still not meeting her gaze. “I guess it couldn’t be anything personal, or they would have had to ask us. Maybe our magical signature? Or academic attainment?” He sighed heavily.
“I guess that makes sense.” She nodded, knowing that Malfoy had always been her close second in class rankings. She was about to ask something else when a paper plane landed on her lap. She recognised Ginny’s handwriting, and opened it quickly.
Hope you’re ok with your match. Ron got Daphne Greengrass, and Pansy Parkinson got Neville, gods help him. About to go for my meeting, I’m shitting it to be honest. Love you - Gin
She figured she should share this information with Malfoy, seeing as it concerned his friends too. She flung the paper at him, and it hit him in the knee. He picked it up slowly, and snorted as he digested the information.
“This is so fucked up.” He said, passing the note back to her.
“You think the inter-house matches are a coincidence?” She asked, wondering how nobody seemed to be with someone of the same house.
“If the percentage thing is true, then it’s a coincidence. Honestly, though, I reckon the Ministry would have been stupid to pass up the chance to promote unity like this.” He sneered slightly as he said the word unity, and she found herself inclined to agree with him. It seemed too convenient for everyone’s best matches to be so harmonious with the message of forgiveness across the houses.
“So Ginny should get Zabini then, to complete the pattern.” She said, and he leant his head back against the tree.
“Yeah, I guess so. Complete the set.” He said bitterly, closing his eyes.
“At least they both like quidditch.” She offered in a hopeful tone, and he finally looked at her. He paused, and then burst out laughing.
“Yes, Granger, they do both like quidditch.” He said, chuckling.
“Right then.” She made a decision and stood up, brushing down her robes. He eyed her carefully, still lounging against the tree. “Are we doing this properly, Malfoy? If we are stuck, then I refuse to spend my life with someone I’m not at least friends with. I don’t have the energy for that. I’m me and you’re you, I get it, but we’re in this now so what’s it gonna be?” He seemed to consider her words carefully, before standing up. He took a step towards her, and towered over her slightly. She hadn’t realised he was that tall before now. She had to tilt her head to look at his face.
“How about this? We both want to know how they decided we’re 100% compatible, so we treat this like an experiment. We can aim for friends, but if we end up as only vaguely amicable research partners instead, I could probably live with that.”
“That’s acceptable. I do have a wildly personal question to ask you though, if you’re amenable to that.”
“Ask away, I reserve the right to not answer and ignore you entirely.”
“You aren’t anywhere near as disgusted by me as I thought you would be. We’ve been out here nearly an hour, and not once have you mentioned my blood status or tried to hex me or even mentioned how ‘your father will hear about this’. Is there a reason for that?” She tilted her head, challenging him. Something flashed through his eyes, and if she didn’t know better, she would have said it was shame.
He didn’t reply straight away, but reached into his robes instead, pulling out a ragged piece of parchment. The creases were deep, as if he had folded it up and opened it again several times over. He gave it to her, and she looked up at him, confused. He simply nodded towards the parchment, and she opened it carefully.
It was the reply she’d sent him to his letter of apology. The seven words were slightly faded now, but she could still make out her message.
Life moves on, and so should we.
“You kept it?” She said, staring at the letter she’d written all those months ago.
“I read that every day. I don’t know why it affected me so deeply, but I like to think it keeps me on the right path.” He said quietly, sounding slightly embarrassed at having to be so honest with her. She delicately folded the note back up, and passed it back to him, meeting his eyes once more. He tucked it back in his robes, and sighed slightly. “In the past, I would have made a fuss about this, you’re right. I would have shouted at McGonagall until I was blue in the face, how dare the Ministry pair me with someone so decidedly below me, etc etc. But now? Now I see how wrong I was, about all of it. I can see, plain as day, that this is unfair because you are stuck with me, not the other way round. Granger, I am truly sorry that they’ve decided I’m your best match, I know it can’t have been what you wanted, but I swear I don’t want to make this harder than it already is. You must see that people will look to us as some sort of beacon of hope for this law, if we can make it then anyone can, that sort of shite. I won’t lie, I don’t like you. You’re an irritating swot with a superiority complex that is so insufferable, but I don’t hate you, I don’t care who your parents are, and I certainly don’t want you dead. I do respect you, believe it or not, as a witch and as a person, and I promise you, right here right now, that I will do my best to not be a total arsehole all of the time, alright?”
“Fair enough.” She agreed, swaying slightly on the balls of her feet. It was a lot to take in all at once, and she doubted she’d get any sleep tonight, but she appreciated Malfoy at least agreeing to try and be civil. “You want to go find the others? Apparently our friendship groups have been inexplicably joined forever.” She smirked, and he scoffed.
“Truly wonderful news. I do want to see what Pans is making of Longbottom, though, if she hasn’t killed him already. And the Weasel with Daph, gods that’s unfair. I’ll do my best to be polite, Granger, but I draw the line at eating with that man.” They started back to the castle, his pace notably slower than it had been earlier.
“Couldn’t agree more. I love Ron, but he has the table manners of a rabid dog.”
He snorted and looked down at her, as if surprised she’d speak ill of any of her friends. “Is this going to keep happening now? We’re going to agree on everything and be disgustingly saccharine for the rest of time?”
“Gods, I hope not. Maybe we should schedule in time to argue about stuff, maintain a sense of normality.”
“I’d like that.” He agreed, before ducking suddenly as a paper plane hurtled straight for his face. He grabbed it, and read it quickly, before laughing. He passed it to Hermione without a word, and she looked up at him before taking it.
Bagged myself Ginevra Weasley. You know, this marriage law shite might not be so bad after all when my future wife is this fit. I assume you’re off with your witch, who’d you end up with? - BZ
She laughed, and passed the note back to him. “At least someone’s happy.”
“Well, they both like quidditch, it was inevitable.” He said, and she shoved him in the side.
“That was arseholery, Malfoy.”
“I said I wouldn’t do it all the time. You’ve got to give me some of the time, or I will combust.”
“Completes our suspicious pattern though. I wonder if any of the matches are two people from the same house.”
“I just cannot accept that it’s a coincidence all the big name war heroes have been paired with the worst of the death eater kids and Dark Lord supporters, it’s too convenient.”
“Former death eater kids.” She offered, and he rolled his eyes.
“Yes, former death eater kids. You don’t have to worry, Theo and I aren’t planning any sort of resurgence. Be quite difficult for Theo at this point, with the saviour himself sharing his bed.”
“Harry probably wouldn’t notice if he did. He isn’t the most observant person.” She said, and Malfoy laughed loudly.
“Are you this scathing all the time, or is it for my benefit?”
“100% compatibility doesn’t come from nowhere, Malfoy.” She smirked at him, before quickening her pace back to the castle. He matched it easily.
“You think it’s not entirely bullshit, then?” He asked, his tone more serious now.
“It’s escaped your notice that we’ve been having a perfectly civil conversation this whole time?”
“Oh. I guess we have, haven’t we? Fuck.”
“Fuck, indeed.” She agreed.
“I hadn’t actually noticed. It’s like it’s just natural to talk to you.” He commented, gazing off into the distance, as if he wasn’t thinking about what he was saying.
“Awfully saccharine of you, Malfoy. Best be careful, people will think you like me or something.”
“Just because I didn’t immediately fling myself from the astronomy tower doesn’t mean I won’t do it at all.”
“You’re far too proud for something like that. You’d kill me instead, a slow acting poison in my morning tea, I’d wager. Neater, less to clean up.”
“I don’t like that I find you funny. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“Do you think Neville is still alive?”
“Oh, Longbottom will be fine. Pans isn’t blind, the bloke’s had one hell of a glow up recently. She’ll just need time to get used to it.”
“Noticed Neville have you?” She teased.
“Yes, I do plan on leaving you for him in the near future. It’s the arms.” He replied dryly.
“We could swap, I’ll take Parkinson. Not my usual type, but I’ll make do.”
“Are we bantering, Granger?”
“I think we might be. It’s weird, isn’t it?”
“I am on entirely uncertain ground right now. Literally anything could come out of my mouth.”
“If you start flirting with Neville, I might have to take you up on that poisoning idea.”
“I promise I’ll contain myself. I don’t know enough about plants to pull him anyway.”
They walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence. She was fairly sure she was still in shock, which was why she was finding herself enjoying his company, rather than being able to fully process the fact that this was Draco Malfoy she was talking to. She got the impression that he was in the same boat, which wasn’t a surprise if she accepted the Ministry’s word on how apparently similar they were.
“Granger? Do you think we should talk about the big stuff?”
“Not right now, no. We’ve got our whole lives to relive our exploits, why rush through it all in one day?”
He scoffed. “Alright. Don’t want to run out of the juicy stuff, I suppose. Ruins the fun of it all.” She got the impression he was holding back, matching her sarcastic tone so he didn’t overstep. She wanted to tell him to just be honest, but they weren’t quite there yet. They had something fragile between them, she didn’t want to break it.
“Where do you think everyone is?” She asked, and he shrugged.
“We’re closer to the slytherin common room here, we could check there first. Have you ever been?”
“I have not. If Bulstrode didn’t have a cat, I would have done, but alas.”
“That feels like a story I need to hear at some point. I hadn’t considered all the war stories you’d come with, what a treat for me.”
“Second year, Harry thought you were the heir of slytherin, so I brewed polyjuice in the toilets and disguised him and Ron as Crabbe and Goyle. I would have been Bulstrode, but the hair I took from her was her cat instead. Spent a month in the hospital wing as a partial feline.”
“There is a lot to unpack there, perhaps for another time. Wait, is that why he was wearing those glasses? It was Potter. Fuck me. I knew he couldn’t read.” He shook his head lightly, continuing down the corridor. Hermione didn’t know this part of the castle well, and it felt odd to trust Malfoy to guide her. “Is there photographic evidence of you from that escapade?”
“There is not. Ron took a photo, but I jinxed him and burnt it when I found it. I’m taking that to my grave.”
“A shame. Perhaps I might convince one of them to offer me the memory, we have a pensieve at the Manor.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“And that’s a surprise to you?” He looked over at her, eyebrow raised, and she rolled her eyes. He walked a little further, before stopping at what she assumed was the entrance to the common room. “Welcome to the snake pit, Granger.” He said, before whispering the password, and holding the door open for her. She stepped through, and immediately several students stared at her.
Malfoy stepped around her, grabbing her wrist gently to pull her further into the room. He angled her behind him slightly, in a protective, almost possessive way that made her very confused.
He approached a door, marked eighth year girls, and knocked lightly.
“Pans? Daph? You in there?”
The door was wrenched open by a stressed looking Pansy Parkinson. Hermione peered around her, and saw Daphne Greengrass sitting on the edge of the bed, head in her hands. She cringed, wondering where Ron was and how he had reacted.
“Where the fuck have you been? Who did you get?” Pansy demanded, and Malfoy stepped backwards so she could see Hermione.
“Hi.” Hermione said, waving awkwardly, and Pansy gaped.
“Oh fucking Salazar’s beard. Merlin’s shitting ballsack. You’re not serious?” Pansy yelled, and Daphne glanced up from the bed to see what the commotion was about.
“Draco got Granger? Really?” She asked, muffled slightly by the door.
“Really.” Malfoy answered, nodding at Daphne. “Are you alright, Daph?” He asked, with a softness that surprised Hermione. Did she know this man at all?
“I cannot spend my life with Ronald Weasley, Draco. I can’t do it. I can’t.” She wept, and Hermione felt like she was intruding on something she shouldn’t be seeing. She watched as Pansy stepped out of the way to let him in, and he wrapped his arms around her. Daphne hid her face in his shirt, and wept. Hermione turned away slightly, letting them have their moment. Pansy was still staring at her.
“You two seem cosy.” She said in a tone that suggested she was accusing Hermione of something.
“I wouldn’t describe it like that, no.” She replied, and Pansy raised an eyebrow.
“100% compatible though. You are the very last person I was expecting.”
“You think I was crossing all my fingers that I got Malfoy? I couldn’t have seen this coming, even if I had the Sight.” She rolled her eyes slightly, folding her arms defensively.
“Draco is very important to me, I won’t let you hurt him.” Pansy said suddenly, and Hermione unfolded her arms at the witch’s change in tone.
“That isn’t my intention, I promise. I don’t hold the past against him, against any of you actually, I’ve moved on. We’re just trying to make the best of the situation, that’s all.” She could see the way that Malfoy was protective of the two slytherin girls. She’d witnessed him holding both of them now, comforting them as they broke down. She wondered if they’d become more like family after the war, after they’d all lost so much. She could respect that.
“I- Fuck.” Pansy cut herself off, before her eyes became determined and she looked at Hermione again. “I don’t know how to talk to Longbottom. He looked terrified earlier, and I don’t know what to say. What do I say, Granger?” She begged her, and Hermione was taken aback at the sudden vulnerability.
“I don’t know if you know, but Malfoy wrote to me after his trial. Explained everything about the war, apologised for all of it. He was honest with me. I started this year with the intention of offering second chances to those who wanted them, to those that had truly changed. Neville is one of the kindest people I know, so I highly doubt he’d disagree with me on that. I think, as a start, just show him that you don’t want to hex him on sight. You don’t have to like him, Merlin knows Malfoy and I are far from friends, but you can work on civility, right? Maybe you could ask to meet him in the greenhouse, see him in his element.” She expected Pansy to curse her, to shout at her for overstepping, but the witch simply listened with wide eyes. She nodded, and then smirked, mirth glistening in her gaze.
“You give advice the same way Draco does.” She said, and then retreated into the dorm without another word, door slamming in her face, leaving Hermione confused and alone in the corridor. The door suddenly reopened, and Pansy peered around it. “Aren’t you coming in?” Hermione shook herself, and followed her into the dorm, where Daphne was now pacing at the end of the beds, Malfoy watching her carefully. He glanced at Hermione as she entered, and patted the bed next to him, gesturing for her to sit. Pansy sat on what was presumably her own bed, looking at Daphne with concern.
“Hello Hermione Granger, I didn’t think you’d ever be in here.” Daphne said, and Hermione snorted lightly.
“No, me neither. Are you alright?” She asked, and Daphne laughed loudly.
“Not really, if I’m honest. This wasn’t how I thought my day was going to go.”
“The feeling’s mutual, Daph, don’t worry.” Malfoy commented, smirking at Hermione, who returned the gesture.
“How are you so alright with this?” Daphne suddenly said, gesturing between the two of them.
Hermione shrugged. “I think I might be in shock. Or denial. Potentially both. It’ll hit me at some point, I imagine.”
Malfoy nodded. “My brain is pretending she isn’t who she is, I think. Did you want to talk about Weasley? We have an expert present.”
Pansy suddenly scoffed loudly. “Merlin, you’d think you two wouldn’t make sense, but it’s like you’ve been married for years. What, and I mean this from the heart, the actual fuck?”
“You want me to scream about this? You want me to storm back into McGonagall’s office and tell her I won’t do it, when I have no evidence or any sort of research to back up what I’m saying? We have no idea how they calculated the percentages, they haven’t said what they based it on. The only way I can find anything out right now is by spending time with Malfoy to see if they’re wrong, and so far, in a way that is alarming for us both I assure you, we’ve been getting on. I fully intend on treating this as an experiment, and I accomplish nothing by fighting with him all the time. You asked me what you should say to Neville? Ask him for a chance, just one. And try your very best not to fuck it up because it may turn out that Neville Longbottom is your life now, no way around it. You don’t know if the percentage is bullshit or not until you actually talk to the man, and that isn’t happening with you hiding in here.” At some point, Hermione had stood up, not that she’d noticed, and had begun wildly flailing her arms around. She felt a bit lighter, actually, having said her piece. Malfoy was smirking at her. Actually no, he wasn’t. He was smiling. That in itself was disconcerting, so she decided to process it later, and plopped herself down next to him on the bed again.
“I should talk to Weasley, shouldn’t I?” Daphne said quietly, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve.
“Probably.” Pansy answered. “Granger, I appreciate you being honest with us. I think we needed to hear it, actually.” She offered, and Hermione nodded. “We’ve been assuming there’s a way out of this, that there will be some sort of choice at some point, but what if there isn’t? What if this is it?”
“You don’t have to be so negative. The percentages might be accurate, you may genuinely get on with Ron and Neville.” Hermione said, and Pansy rolled her eyes.
“Draco, how are you going to put up with all that optimism for the rest of your life?
“I’m assuming she’ll run out at some point.” He answered, dry as ever.
Hermione was about to reply, when Theo crashed through the door.
“I think I’m in love.” He proclaimed, flopping down on the empty bed.
“Theo, for fuck’s sake.” Pansy muttered, and Hermione laughed at his dramatics.
Theo sat up suddenly, not recognising the voice.
“Hello Golden Girl, why are you in here? Oh my great Merlin, am I in the presence of the next Lady Malfoy? What an unexpected pair, how glorious.”
“Is he like this all the time?” She muttered to Malfoy, and he laughed.
“Yes. You’ll get used to it.”
“You know, Hermione, your best friend is a truly excellent kisser. Really top tier. I don’t know what I did to attain such a match but here we are.”
“You’re getting on with Harry then?” She asked, and Theo scoffed.
“I think we were made for each other, you know. I mean that.”
“Do you?” She asked sceptically. Theo laughed, and pointed at her.
“Astute. I like you. You have my approval to court my son.” Malfoy rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics, and Hermione looked around, bemused. “It’s going better than I thought it would. He told me he only came out this morning, is that true?” He asked in a softer tone, swinging his legs onto the ground.
“It is. He didn’t want to come back matched with a wizard without telling us that it could happen first. He was still with Ginny this morning, although I do wonder if he was having doubts about her. There was something off, even before the announcement. I guess it doesn’t matter now.” She didn’t know why she was being so honest in a room full of slytherins that had always hated her, but she felt comfortable. She decided not to question it too much.
Theo nodded. “I’ll look after him, I promise. It’s not fair that he was forced out like that, I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, and considering the circumstances, that isn’t too far off. That was a joke, before you panic, Golden Girl.” Hermione tilted her head, observing that there was a caring nature to Theo beneath the bravado. She somehow knew he’d look after Harry, she trusted her gut feeling. She’d done that a lot today, and it was starting to make her queasy. She usually preferred hard facts over wishy washy nonsense to do with feelings.
“And you? You can’t have been expecting Harry Potter to be 99% compatible with you?”
“Do you reckon he’ll autograph some stuff if I asked? I may as well get something out of this.” Theo smirked, and Hermione rolled her eyes. Pansy and Daphne announced they were going to find their respective wizards, and she wished them luck, surprised to find that she meant it. Daphne even gave her a warm smile as she left. How much could change in one day.
“He makes me feel, I don’t know, safe? I mean, saviour of the wizarding world, not a surprise, but it just feels like he’s got me, you know?” She did know, that was always how she’d felt around Harry. Whatever happened, she knew he had her back.
“I know that feeling, it’s a Harry Potter classic. Get used to it, Theo. He’s difficult to get rid of once he decides to care about you.”
“How delightfully odd it is that you’re about to spend a lifetime canoodling my best friend.”
“Theo.” Malfoy said coldly, and his friend laughed gleefully. Hermione rolled her eyes again. She’d have to up her tolerance to Theo’s nonsense, or she’d give herself eye strain.
“As much as I despise the word canoodling, you are also about to spend a lifetime with my best friend, so the sentiment is mutual.” She replied.
“What about you two, anyway? Why are you so comfy? I would have expected fireworks, an avada or two, at the very least.”
Hermione shrugged, but said nothing. She assumed she’d have this question several times over from everyone else she knew, but she was interested to see what Malfoy would say.
“Not off the table, I don’t think, but we’ve arrived at a strange place of civility, wouldn’t you say?” He looked at her, and she nodded.
“I would say.”
Theo beamed, clasping his hands together. “Well you two are positively precious. Can you adopt me? I’m getting strong parental vibes from this.” He waved a finger between them, and she glared at him. Apparently, Malfoy had pulled a similar expression, because Theo broke down into giggles. “Oh, you’re the same! This is excellent, I love this. You know, this morning I was wondering who in the world could possibly be a 100% match for this prick, but now I see it, Hermione.”
“Did you just call me a prick, Theo?” She asked, and Malfoy snorted.
“You know, I suppose I did. My apologies, my new very lovely best friend. Please don’t exclude me from your wedding party as a result of my thoughtless words.”
“You’re not planning on being in his wedding party?” She nodded to Malfoy, and Theo beamed, mirth twinkling in his eyes.
“Not anymore, now I’ve got better options.”
“Well, now I’m not asking you, you dick.” Malfoy muttered, and Hermione smiled at them. It was slightly surreal seeing them like this, how they were at ease around her so quickly. How she was at ease around them, in kind. “Did you want to go find your friends? We don’t have to be attached at the hip just because the Ministry says so.” He offered, and she sighed.
“I suppose I should, right? I have no idea how any of them are taking this.”
“Not as well as you, I’d imagine.” Theo commented, smirking. “Put in a good word for me with my beloved Potter, would you?”
“Oh, of course, Theo. He’ll be down on one knee by dinner, I’ll make sure of it.” The two slytherins laughed at her joke, and once again, she was hit with the feeling that her life was so incredibly strange now. “I’ll leave now so you can talk shit about me. I know you want to. See you around, Malfoy.”
“Bye, Granger. Go tell everyone how delightfully charming I am.”
“I’m not in the business of lying to my friends, unfortunately.” She smirked over her shoulder before leaving the dorm. It was strange being in the slytherin common room on her own, but she quickly identified the exit, pointedly ignoring the many students currently staring at her like she’d grown a second head.