Sunday - Eggatha Christie
Hermione floo’d in on the Sunday night, following a stressful day with her editor. She barely had time to dust the soot from her jumper before a large St Bernard lept at her, licking her face with considerable enthusiasm. Pansy had forewarned her about Myrtle, but she hadn’t been expecting her vivid description to be quite so accurate. She got the dog off her, and crouched down, fussing her fur with both hands. If somebody had asked her what sort of dog Draco Malfoy owned, a massive St Bernard with a complete disregard for boundaries would not have been her first guess, but she supposed that she wouldn’t have guessed she’d be house-sitting for the man either.
Hermione had joined the Ministry after the war, working in the auror department alongside Harry and Ron. They had both flourished whilst she had absolutely hated it. Her therapist had recommended journaling, to get her thoughts down and out of her brain so they wouldn’t feel quite so overwhelming. Upon showing her just how much she had written, she’d suggested publishing it as a novel. Hermione had considerable doubts about doing that, thinking that nobody would be interested, but she floated the idea among her co-workers, and they were all chomping at the bit to hear about the war from her perspective. It took her a year to edit her rambling notes into a sequential narrative, and the book had been an overnight success. It had been everywhere, and everyone had read it, meaning that Hermione was able to quit her Ministry job and focus on her passions. With her editor clamouring for another project from her, she’d come up with the idea of looking into pureblood culture, and how it would fit into society post-war. Included in this would be interviews with several pureblooded wizards and witches, from both sides of the war, and this was how Draco Malfoy and his slytherin friends had come back into her life. Changed entirely by their experiences, they’d been more than happy to help with her book and had been surprisingly candid. It had not been the combative experience she’d been expecting, and, as a result, she quickly fell into friendships with the slytherins. She had a standing brunch with Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and Ginny, and being able to talk about nothing and everything with other women meant a lot to Hermione. She hadn’t had a group of close female friends in her life before, and as much as Harry enjoyed a good gossip, it wasn’t quite the same. Blaise Zabini provided an interesting insight into what it was like being pureblooded but not Sacred 28, and Theo Nott delved deeper into the history of those famed families, with his relative Cantankerus Nott having devised the exclusive list in the first place. Her editor had been over the moon that she’d had such a long conversation with Draco Malfoy, knowing that people would eat that chapter up, but it had been about more for Hermione than just her book. They’d spoken about their shared experience that day in the Manor, strictly off the record as Hermione wasn’t about to broadcast the day she was tortured to the world, but it had been incredibly healing for both of them. She realised quite quickly they had a lot in common, and with the hatchet well and truly buried, she counted him as a close friend.
Once Harry had started dating Theo, their friendship groups merged into one, and her social life was busier than it had ever been. Harry and Ginny’s relationship had ended after they both came out, with the pair remaining incredibly close friends. They’d often featured in the Prophet in recent years on nights out, just the two of them, which confused the wizarding world to no end, but they couldn’t care less. In fact, they sort of revelled in the chaos, as did Theo, who was completely head over heels for his boyfriend to the point that he never shut up about him. Her own relationship with Ron hadn’t been anything more than the one kiss they shared, with them mutually agreeing that they were better off as friends. Ron was also looking to start a family far sooner than Hermione was, so it was the best thing to do for them to both find happiness. He had also sat down for an interview for her book, and they’d laughed together about their many exploits over the years, as well as his incredibly unique pureblood/Sacred 28 experience growing up.
Her completely inappropriate crush on Draco Malfoy had crept up on her. She was in the middle before she’d realised she’d ever even begun, and it totally blindsided her. She was more than aware that nothing would ever come of it, but she was struggling to get over the feelings regardless. Wanting to get this book really right, she’d spent nearly eighteen months on the thing, and at this point, it was strange to reread those initial interviews with people she now considered her best friends. She’d held feelings for the blonde wizard for almost all of that time, and she’d been editing and reediting her book, worrying that she was subconsciously focusing on him a bit too much. She was also still waiting for Pansy to finish her interview, as they could never get through it without the witch breaking down. She carried a lot of guilt for her role in the war, but also for the way she’d treated Harry and Hermione in school. It only got worse once she considered them friends, particularly Hermione. Pansy, too, had grown up with mostly male friends, and the slytherin was incredibly grateful for the friendship they’d found. Hermione hadn’t intended for the interviews to become therapy sessions, but it naturally moved in that direction, with the topics being so emotional. As such, she was giving Pansy the time and space she needed, focusing on the history of blood status instead of the personal accounts for now.
It was because of her research that she had ended up house-sitting for Malfoy. She’d mentioned to him that she was looking into the history, and he said she was welcome to use some of the books he had in his study that he’d brought from the Manor. He’d moved out as soon as he was able to, buying himself a house in a sleepy muggle village. Running a potions business with Blaise, he had found relative success, with both men going against the plans their families would have once had for them. They’d gotten chatting, and he mentioned that he was going to visit his mother in France soon, and needed someone to feed his pets. Under the guise of agreeing purely for the use of his study, rather than the truth, which was that she would have said yes to anything he asked of her, she agreed to stay for the week. Narcissa had also moved out of the Manor after Lucius had gone to Azkaban, essentially fleeing England for the Malfoy property in Marseille. Malfoy Manor was still in the family, but it stood empty, and would do until either of them decided to renovate it and remove the dark magic that remained. She’d asked Malfoy about this in their interview, and he’d said that he’d like his children to see it one day, but right now, the atrocities committed there still felt too raw. She understood completely.
With Myrtle following closely behind her, Hermione went into the kitchen and found an envelope sitting on the massive marble island.
Granger,
Firstly, thank you for doing this. Everyone else I asked refused point blank, so I would have been at a total loss had you said no.
I thought it would be helpful for me to write this down for you.
You will have met Myrtle as soon as you stepped from the floo. I apologise for her lack of propriety, but she’s harmless. She’ll need walking once a day, and I usually take her through the woods at the end of the lane, but it’s up to you.
Carina and Leo are the cats. Leo is the ginger one, Carina is the black one. Leo is a gryffindor, Carina is a slytherin. That should tell you all you need to know about them.
The chickens do all have names, but I don’t think you necessarily need to be aware of them. I will simply tell you that Theo and I named them one evening whilst thoroughly pissed, and so they’re all horrendous puns. Buck Beak is my favourite (I am aware of the irony in that) and is the only one who will let you pick her up. You’ll be able to tell which one she is, she’ll run at you like she hasn’t been fed in years. This is not true, don’t believe a word she says. Feel free to help yourself to eggs.
Cassiopeia, Fornax, and Pavo are the rabbits. Cassie is the white one, Fornax is the brown one, and Pavo is the black one. They are aggressively against people who aren’t me, so I sincerely wish you the best of luck and inform you that gloves are in the shed if you are planning on keeping all of your fingers. Blaise is completely obsessed with Fornax and will try to steal him if you let your guard down. I strongly suspect that he will have some sort of bunny-based larceny plot in place while I am away. Constant vigilance, Granger, as Potter constantly annoys people by saying. Why does he find that funny, by the way? He won’t tell me, and apparently, he’s sworn Theo to secrecy.
I also have an owl, but you already know that. You also already know that her name is Aquila. I’m just mentioning her for the sake of completeness.
I’m aware that I owe you an incredibly large debt for doing this, so when I’m back, I’m happy to discuss your demands. Dinner, the entire contents of Flourish and Blotts, the bloody moon, whatever you want just say the word.
Treat the place as if it were your own this week. I mean it, snoop in as many drawers as you like. The study is yours to work out of too.
If all goes horribly wrong and all of the animals are facing imminent death, it would be Buck Beak that I’d save. Don’t tell the others that, they’ll only get upset.
Owl me if you have any questions or unmitigated disasters. I’m not expecting the latter, seeing as it’s you. Thanks again, Granger. I really don’t know what I’d do without you.
-DM
Gods, if she wasn’t already half in love with the wizard, his obvious love of his pets would have done it. She wasn’t really sure what she was hoping to achieve by doing this for him, but she just couldn’t bring herself to say no. She loved animals and was always keen to help out a friend, but he’d neglected to mention that he owned a whole bloody menagerie. She was surprised to find that she really didn’t mind that he’d omitted the truth about his ‘pets’. Merlin, she was completely gone for the man. The man whose house she was in for the week. Excellent.
She figured she’d better go and introduce herself to Malfoy’s flock of creatures, and find out where everything was. With Myrtle happily trotting along behind, she made her way out into the garden. It consisted of a large lawn, on top of which was the chicken coop and rabbit hutch, and at the end of the gravel path, she could see a greenhouse and planting beds. It was like the man was actively trying to kill her, showing off all of his hobbies that made her heart beat a little faster in her chest. She knew he liked to make potions and grow his own ingredients, but she could definitely see standard vegetables alongside the magical plants. Perhaps Neville had got to him, as he had most of her other friends, and convinced him to give it a go. She honestly struggled to picture the perpetually-in-a-suit Draco Malfoy getting his hands dirty out in the garden, but he must do it because there was nobody else here to do it for him.
She went to the rabbits first, carefully stepping inside the gated run, leaving Myrtle outside of the little fence. Remembering that they were apparently not the most sociable of creatures, she approached them slowly, not wanting to scare them. The three rabbits eyed her cautiously, and she crouched down so as to not overwhelm them. The white rabbit, Cassie, came up to her outstretched hand almost immediately, sniffing her fingers. Hermione smiled at having immediately proven Malfoy wrong. She wouldn’t be needing those gloves after all. The other two followed suit, and even let her stroke them. She wondered what had happened previously for Malfoy to think they didn’t like people because they seemed perfectly amiable to her. She could see why Blaise loved Fornax so much, the brown rabbit had such a unique, expressive face that drew you to him.
Leaving the run, ensuring the gate was closed behind her, she let herself into the chicken coop. They had almost the whole lawn to themselves but were inside an enclosed area so they were protected from foxes. She laughed as one of the hens sprinted at her, and she crouched once more to introduce herself to who she assumed was Buck Beak. The name had tickled her and made her remember that eventful day from their third year. The day she’d punched the man in the face. Gods, if little Draco and Hermione could see them now.
Monday - Eggdar Allen Poe
Following one of the best nights of sleep of her life in Malfoy’s spare room, she’d gotten up relatively early, taking Myrtle on a quick walk before coming back and making breakfast. Having familiarised herself with the feeding schedule - which she’d found in the shed along with the gloves he’d mentioned, and was colour-coded - she made herself a cup of tea. All of his mugs were, unsurprisingly, green, except for one, which was a bright red. She’d thought it a little odd but had chosen the red one anyway.
She had finally met the cats, finding them at the foot of Malfoy’s bed late last night, mewing loudly. Hermione figured they were wondering where he was as they usually slept with him, a mental image that turned her to mush. She dumped out the food into their two bowls, and then fed Myrtle, who was still insistent upon following her around the house. She wasn’t sure if that was usual, or if the St Bernard was just curious about who it was in her home.
Sidestepping a charging Buck Beak, she filled up the trough for the chickens with their feed and then gave the rabbits a mixture of their feed and some cabbage leaves. The rabbits, once again, were incredibly interested in her and she was with them for nearly fifteen minutes, all three of them eager for attention.
After double checking both gates were closed, she headed back inside and could hear Aquila hooting in the study. The large owl was holding the day’s post, and Hermione fussed the bird gently before giving her a treat. Several letters she didn’t recognise, one with a fancy-looking wax seal - perhaps one of Malfoy’s high-end clients - and the Prophet, which she took a quick look over before declaring it mostly bullshit. Despite her encounter with Rita Skeeter, the reporter hadn’t totally stopped writing lies about her and her friends. Perhaps she’d need to get the jar out again.
His study was as you’d expect. Hundreds of books, new and old, magical and muggle, lined the shelves, which covered all four walls. The walls were painted, to Hermione’s surprise, in a deep navy. Perhaps he’d run out of shades at green by the time he got up here. Another surprise was the photos. Malfoy had never struck her as someone who would be sentimental, but she’d been repeatedly reminded this week that her preconceptions were all so thoroughly incorrect. There were photos of him and his slytherin friends at school, smiling in the common room and on the quidditch pitch. Her favourite was one of Theo lying in the chicken coop, Buck Beak sitting on his chest, looking exceptionally pleased with herself. She had learnt that the chickens really did have unique personalities, as mad as it sounded, and she could see why Malfoy was so attached. There was also a group photo including both her and Malfoy, surrounded by their friends. It was strange to see them all together, smiling broadly. It made her feel warm. She wondered why Malfoy had chosen that one for his study, what sort of things he felt when he looked at it.
Writing had been hard today. She’d wanted to discuss the use of the word ‘mudblood’ and had inevitably included some of her own experiences with the slur. Whilst she’d forgiven Malfoy a long time ago, it still hurt to think of the way he’d thrown that word at her time and again. It had been a surreal experience to write about that specific topic whilst in Malfoy’s own home, but the world worked in mysterious ways. Myrtle had been a great comfort, with the dog sensing Hermione’s distress and promptly lying on her feet for a good few hours. After only one night in his house, Hermione realised that she really didn’t know Malfoy all that well. Much to her chagrin, the more she found out his true character, the one he kept hidden from the world, the further she fell. Of course, the man would be a caring, animal lover, as well as being intelligent and stupidly good-looking. It was entirely unfair.
Slamming her laptop closed, and leaving a now sleeping Myrtle under the desk, she decided she’d done enough work today, and took the opportunity to be nosy. Malfoy’s house was, of course, stupidly large, too large for one person really. The downstairs was mostly open plan, with the kitchen and living room being one space. There was a separate dining room that he very obviously didn’t use, as well as another sitting room that had three chairs and a small bar in it. Presumably, that was where Theo and Blaise went when they came round. Upstairs, there were six rooms. Malfoy’s bedroom, which had a fancy-looking ensuite, another room made up for his mother judging by the dress robes in the wardrobe, the spare room Hermione was using, Malfoy’s study, a potions lab, and the bathroom which housed the biggest bath Hermione had ever seen. She’d definitely be taking advantage of that at some point this week. Despite what he’d said in his letter, she spent only a few seconds in Malfoy’s bedroom. It felt too intrusive somehow, like she was seeing things she shouldn’t be looking at. She did spot a photo of him and his mother on his chest of drawers though. They were in a garden, surrounded by roses. She wondered if that was at the Manor, perhaps a reminder of what they’d left behind. There was a weird gap next to the frame, as if something was missing. Perhaps he’d taken the second photo with him on his trip? She shook her head and closed the door, feeling like she was violating his privacy.
She took a longer look around the potions lab. He’d always been good at potions in Hogwarts, even beating her in a test or two, and it was an impressive set-up. As a pureblood heir, he would have been expected to maintain the family affairs as his career. He didn’t need to work, he had enough money for a hundred lifetimes over, but he hadn’t wanted to sit idle. He and Blaise had grown their business to something impressive and no longer brewed their own potions, but apparently, that hadn’t stopped Malfoy from experimenting himself. Hermione was probably the only person who would find something like that attractive, but gods she did. That insatiable strive for knowledge was something they shared, and it made her treacherous heart hope that he might feel something for her too. She couldn’t quite believe she felt so strongly for the man that she’d spent the day writing about, but times had changed, and so had she.
That night, she took a very long bath, and then cuddled up on the sofa with Myrtle and a book, feeling entirely content. She was so absorbed that she didn’t hear the floo sound.
“Oh, hey Mione!” Neville said, sounding mildly surprised to find her slouched on Malfoy’s sofa.
Her head shot up. “Neville! What are you doing here?”
“Malfoy asked me to water the plants in his greenhouse. He didn’t say you were here?”
“I’m house-sitting. And feeding the pets.” She gestured to the dog sprawled between her legs, and Neville chuckled.
“Yes, Tilly looks quite taken with you. Have you been in the greenhouse yet?”
She looked at him sheepishly. “I’d completely forgotten about it, actually. I got sidetracked.”
“Come on then, I’ll show you around. It’s pretty impressive stuff.”
Extracting herself from underneath the large dog, she stuffed her feet into her trainers and followed Neville out into the garden.
“I didn’t know you were close with Malfoy?” She asked as they walked down the path.
“He asked for advice about some specialist plants when he was expanding his business. We’ve kept in touch since. Now he’s less of an arse and close with all of you, I’d count him as a friend. Wouldn’t have seen that coming in school, eh Mione?” He elbowed her gently, before stepping inside the greenhouse.
“I’ve been thinking that exact thing a lot this week, as it happens.” She replied, startled by the wall of heat that hit her. “Is that a charm?”
“The temperature? Yeah, it keeps it warm, best for some of these plants that aren’t used to the British weather.” He gestured to the pots on top of the bench, all of which had bright, exotic-looking flowers. She’d always fancied herself a bit of an expert in potion ingredients, but even she didn’t recognise them. Neville chuckled at the look on her face and answered her question without her having to ask. “They’re alternatives to dittany. He and Blaise are trying to make something that is as effective, but cheaper to produce. They want to make it more accessible.”
How she kept a neutral face, she had no idea. He was thoughtful now, too? How the hell was this man still single? She forcibly regained her composure before Neville thought she was a hapless fool.
“Do you know if they’ve made much progress?” She asked, and Neville shrugged.
“They definitely work, but they’re not as effective as dittany. I’m no potions expert, but I guess they’re still experimenting with amounts and that sort of thing.” She nodded, wandering further into the greenhouse. How she hadn’t noticed before, she wasn’t sure, but there were a lot of roses in here, similar to those in the photo she’d seen earlier.
“Are the roses from the Manor?”
“Mmhmm.” He nodded, continuing to water the pots. “I believe his mother took cuttings before they both left, and he’s propagated them. You see that one there, the pink one? That’s your namesake.” He pointed to her right, and she looked at the light pink rose with a smile on her face.
“It’s called Hermione?”
“Well, it’s Gentle Hermione, so maybe not so much your namesake.” He smirked, and she swatted his arm.
“What a coincidence it’s here though.” She shook her head incredulously, and he looked at her strangely for a moment, before he smiled.
“Yes. A coincidence.” He said, turning around and focusing on his watering.
He politely turned down her offer of a cup of tea, explaining that he needed to get home to Hannah. With the promise of seeing each other more often from now on, he disappeared through the floo, and Hermione settled back onto the sofa with Myrtle, who was most annoyed at being disturbed. She didn’t think any more about the roses in the greenhouse, nor Neville’s amused look when she’d said it was a coincidence that they were in there. With her eyes fluttering, she gave up on trying to read and crawled into bed, listening to Carina and Leo calling for Malfoy once again.
Tuesday - Attila the Hen
It had come as a bit of a surprise to everyone that Malfoy lived in a muggle neighbourhood. He had said it was because the house prices were more reasonable, but Hermione had always wondered if it was because it guaranteed him peace. His neighbours wouldn’t know him or his past, and he could walk his dog without being accosted by the press. She’d gotten up a bit later this morning, and so there were more people around when she stepped out to walk the dog. It seemed Malfoy was pretty friendly with the other people in the small village because Myrtle was certainly popular.
“Morning, love! Where’s Drake today? I’ve not seen you around before.” A lady called brightly, crossing the small lane. Hermione blanched at her name for Draco. Perhaps he’d introduced himself as that because it sounded a bit more normal to a muggle, but Hermione happened to know that he hated that particular nickname. Or, at least, he’d told her he did. The longer she stayed in his home, the more she unravelled about the man.
“Hello! Er, Drake is away this week, so I’m house-sitting. I’m Hermione.” She smiled politely, and the lady cooed.
“Oh, what a lovely name. Shakespeare, isn’t it? I’m Linda, by the way, I run the little shop just down the way there. Yes, hello Miss Myrtle, I’d not forgotten about you.” She fussed Myrtle, who had grown excited at Linda’s presence. She clearly knew the woman, and Hermione wondered how social Malfoy actually was. Curiouser and curiouser.
“Do you meet Drake on walks often then?” She asked, and Linda nodded.
“All the time. It’s a small village, you see, hard to avoid people. Drake is such a pleasant young man, though. They don’t make them like that anymore. How long have you been together?”
“Oh! No, no, nothing like that. We’re just friends.” She smiled, trying not to cringe, and Linda placed a hand on her arm.
“Oh, I do apologise, dear, I shouldn’t have assumed. I just always think it’s such a shame that a gentleman like that hasn’t found anyone. He’s always so kind whenever I see him. I suppose you know all about the young lady that stole his heart, then?”
“Um, I can’t say I do.” Hermione replied, brows furrowed. Somebody had stolen Malfoy’s heart? That was news to her, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her stomach uneasy.
“How odd, I would have thought he’d tell a close friend if he was willing to tell me. Perhaps I shouldn’t go blabbing his business, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if he’s trusted you to look after his beloved Myrtle here. He told me once that he isn’t really into dating much because he fell for a woman who doesn’t feel the same, and he’s not quite moved on yet. Somebody he went to school with, he said. Such a sad tale. Anyway, we shouldn’t be gossiping like this. It was lovely to meet you, dear. I’m sure I’ll see you again at some point this week. Bye, Miss Myrtle.” With another pat on the dog’s head, the woman was shuffling off in the other direction.
“Bye.” Hermione called, allowing Myrtle to pull her along the lane. Who on earth could Malfoy have fallen for? Her immediate thought was Pansy, but that felt unlikely. Daphne, maybe? Because Merlin knows that witch has only had eyes for Blaise for a very long time, she wouldn’t have looked at Malfoy twice. She doubted it would be someone from another house, considering Malfoy’s attitude in school. Hermione wanted to quiz him, but if he hadn’t told her, perhaps he didn’t want her to know, and she should probably respect his privacy. That did nothing for her burning jealousy, but she’d just have to shove that ugly emotion away somewhere she couldn’t find it.
The walk through the woods was almost idyllic. She could see why Malfoy preferred it. The trees made her feel isolated, but in a way that brought her peace and made her forget the world for a while. She almost didn’t want to go back to the house, but there was a ridiculously fancy bath calling her name, and she was determined to make the most of it.
She hadn’t actually taken in the house from the outside yet, having initially arrived via floo. It was definitely modern, and she knew Malfoy had done a lot of work to it before he’d moved in, but it still had rural character that meant it wasn’t out of place in a village setting. If she was honest, it was probably her dream home. He would own her dream house, the rich bastard. She climbed the few steps to the front door, which was, of course, painted green, and paused for a moment to smell the wisteria that climbed across the front of the property. It was a very unique shade of blue, perhaps closer to violet, and had a gentle scent that made Hermione smile. Touching the petals lightly, she realised they were actually charmed to be that colour. She wondered what was so special about periwinkle, before being dragged inside by an impatient Myrtle. The rest of her day was largely uneventful, but she made good progress on her book after yesterday’s emotional session. It was coming together well, and she was looking forward to finally having the thing finished after so long. It had certainly become a mammoth project, but she wanted to get it right, for herself and for her friends, and so it would take as long as it would take.
That evening, Hermione sent off an owl to Pansy, asking her friend if she’d be up for finishing her interview this week. With her section on the use of the term ‘mudblood’ almost complete, she thought it might be interesting to get Pansy’s perspective on it. Hermione hoped that Myrtle might help keep the witch calm, and so had invited her to Malfoy’s house, knowing she’d been many times before. She received a reply quite quickly, confirming Friday, and she then took the opportunity to sit on the bench in the garden listening to the chickens, taking a quick break before ploughing on with some writing.
That night she hopped into bed and was surprised when a ball of ginger fur followed her. Leo curled up on the pillow next to her, and Carina was somewhere down by her feet. Hermione fell asleep with a smile on her face.
Wednesday - Fuster Cluck
Wednesday night, inspiration had struck, and Hermione had been working furiously on a new chapter when she heard whispering.
“Salazar, could you be any louder? She’ll fucking hear us.”
“Good. I didn’t want to be involved in this anyway.”
She crept into the hall and leant against the doorway as she watched Blaise and Theo tiptoeing across the hall. Blaise had a muggle cat carrier in one hand, and what looked like a toy rabbit in the other. She presumed this was the bunny rustling she’d been forewarned about. A sudden idea came to her, and she accio’d Malfoy’s camera, snapping the two looking utterly ridiculous as they inched across the room.
“Would you like me to unlock the back door for you?” She called out, and the pair jumped out of their skins.
“Fucking hell, Granger, you could’ve killed me.” Blaise said, holding his chest and breathing heavily. Theo was already sniggering, apparently realising the ridiculousness of the situation.
“I do apologise for startling you, Blaise. It just looks like you’re, oh, I don’t know, here to steal Fornax.” She smiled, and Theo broke down into giggles. Blaise tried to hide the cat carrier behind him, and she laughed at him.
He put the things down and held his hands up in surrender.
“Alright, you got me. I didn’t think Draco would have told you, I was going to take advantage whilst he wasn’t here.”
“He told me, unfortunately for you. Do you want to see Fornax? I’ll let you, but know that I have got both eyes on you, Zabini.” She pointed at him threateningly as she unlocked the back door with a wave of her hand. She’d been practising wandless magic recently and was getting quite good at it.
“Did you just do that wandlessly? There’s no need to show off, Granger, we already know you’re impressive.” Theo said, shaking his head and following her outside. “I thought the rabbits hated anyone that isn’t Draco? He said he was worried they’d savage you.”
“No savaging has occurred. I’m sure he was just being dramatic, they’ve been lovely.” She opened the gate, and led them inside, ensuring it was shut behind them. The rabbits cowered at the sight of the two tall men, but softened when they realised Hermione was with them. She picked up Fornax, and stroked the brown rabbit gently, looking up to meet the shocked faces of Theo and Blaise.
“What?” She said, brows furrowed.
“Have you done some sort of spell on them? Are they enchanted?” Blaise said, bending over slightly and looking closely at Fornax’s face.
“Of course they aren’t! Is it really so strange for them to like someone that isn’t Malfoy?”
“Yes.” They said at the same time, and she scoffed.
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you. They came to me straight away.”
“Guess the infatuation isn’t exclusive to only one member of the Malfoy family.” Theo muttered, and Blaise snorted.
“What does that mean?” Hermione asked, glancing up from the rabbit in her arms, and Blaise’s eyes went wide.
“He’s going to kill us.” Blaise mumbled, and Theo winced.
“Nothing, nothing. The blonde prat mentioned some safety gloves he got for you, have you not needed those?” Theo asked, very obviously changing the subject.
“Nope, no gloves.” She said. Theo nodded and looked vaguely impressed, as Blaise glanced around.
“Is that his camera on the bench?” He asked, and Hermione nodded. With a mischievous look in his eye, he accio’d the thing, and held it up. “Say ‘cheese’ everyone.” He said teasingly, before snapping a picture of the three of them and the rabbits, Fornax still in Hermione’s arms. “Just think such an occasion deserves to be immortalised, no?”
“Yes, old Fornax has always been picky about the company he keeps. Perhaps we should declare today a national holiday.” Theo replied, and Hermione rolled her eyes before placing the rabbit gently onto the straw beneath them.
“Come on, I’ll make you morons some tea. Theo, how’s Harry? I haven’t seen him in a while.” She knew Theo loved to talk about Harry at any and every opportunity, so it was a good way to change the subject. She ensured the gate was closed and all three rabbits were safely inside their hutch before the three headed inside. She didn’t think Blaise was that good at rabbit thievery, but she wasn’t letting him get one over her.
“That’s a nice mug.” Blaise said nonchalantly once they were in the kitchen. She’d subconsciously grabbed the red one again, pushing two of the green ones towards the boys. She shrugged.
“Just one from the cupboard.” She missed the look the two wizards shared as her back was turned.
“How has it been going with the Malfoy clan, anyway? He is ever so protective of his little darlings.” Theo smirked, sipping his tea and leaning against the kitchen counter.
“Yes, he neglected to tell me there were quite so many of them when I agreed to stay, but it’s been fine. I’ve had a lovely time pretending I actually live in this ridiculous house.” She smiled, and Blaise snorted into his mug, glancing at Theo, who had mirth dancing in his eyes.
“You don’t like it?” Theo asked, and Hermione shook her head.
“The opposite, actually. It’s just way too big for one person. I guess neither of you share that opinion, but not all of us grew up in manors.”
“No, no, I’ve heard Draco mention that he felt it was too big for one person.” Blaise replied, and Theo laughed. Hermione wasn’t sure what he found funny about that, but she let it go.
“Mm! Neville came over the other day, and was telling me about your dittany alternatives. How’s that going? Have you made much progress?”
Blaise smiled. “Not as much as I’d hoped, if I’m honest. The three flowers do work, and we’ve got the final potions ready for sale using them as the respective main ingredients. They’re certainly cheaper than dittany, but they’re just nowhere near as effective. We’re playing around with various concentrations at the moment, seeing if we can get it to work how we’d like.”
“You’re using the three flowers separately? Do they have different properties? What if you mixed them together, put the three into one potion?” She asked, and Blaise looked pensive for a moment.
“You know, I’d not thought of that. I wonder how that might affect efficacy. Certainly worth exploring.” She could see the cogs turning in his head and was proud that she’d been able to help him with his problem.
“You see, we came over to steal a rabbit but you actually got something entirely more valuable. Granger, you should stay here more often, you’re dreadfully helpful.” Theo smirked, and Blaise was no longer lost in thought, laughing softly at his friend.
“If Malfoy won’t let me stay, I’m at least stealing that bed. It’s insane.” She said, and Blaise elbowed Theo as he went to say something. She wondered what that had been about, as the two shared an odd glance.
“Surely a writer of your prowess could afford a decent mattress. How is your study into pureblooded bigotry going, by the way?” Blaise asked her.
“Going well, I think. I’m finally going to get Pansy to finish her interview this week, and outside of that, I’ve made good progress on the rest of it. I’m hoping I’ve done you all justice.”
“Considering the subject matter, I’m not sure it’s justice we really deserve. I reckon it’ll be a necessary read, though, once it’s finished. They should put it on the syllabus at Hogwarts.” Theo said, and Blaise hummed in agreement, his mouth full of tea.
“Maybe I’ll owl McGonagall, send her a copy, see what she thinks.”
“If Binns had made history half as interesting as you made it in your first book, then I might have tried to pay more attention.” Blaise said, and Theo nodded.
“I think it’s important that the next generation of pureblooded peacocks are taught that they aren’t better than anyone else just because of their birth or status. I can’t imagine what I would have thought of a book like that when I was a kid, but it certainly would have given me some things to think about.”
“We were little shits for far too long, mate, we probably would have burnt the bloody thing. I think it’s the generation coming through now that will benefit from something like this, especially after the war. You think little Theo would have been alright with finding out that he’d one day shack up with the chosen one?”
“He would have drowned himself in the lake.” Theo replied flatly, and Blaise gestured to him with his mug.
“Exactly. We were too far gone, it took a whole bloody war to make us see how wrong we were. It’s an odd way to feel, but I’m sometimes grateful for having gone through it. Had we not, we would have lived in ignorance for the rest of our lives. I reckon now is the perfect time for a book like yours, Granger. Just shove the little bastards over the edge, make them realise how these traditional beliefs caused real harm.”
“I was writing about the derogatory terms for muggleborns on Monday, and my own experiences with them. This book isn’t going to be a light read, nor a pleasant one, but I hope you’re right that it’ll affect change in some way.” She said, wincing at how dark it sounded.
“What if we all got together again? Spoke about how we’re friends now, maybe a bit about NottPott?” Blaise suggested, and she hummed.
“Hmm, maybe a more hopeful ending? That could work…”
Theo interrupted. “Sorry, what in the ever-loving fuck is NottPott?”
“It’s what Ginny calls you and Potter. Like your names mashed together.” Blaise explained, gesturing with his hands, and Theo grimaced.
“I hate it. So much.” Hermione laughed at the look on his face and drained her tea.
“Harry thought it was funny.” She shrugged, and he rolled his eyes.
“I love the man, but his sense of humour is akin to that of a toddler.”
“Surely you’ve noticed that before now, mate.” Blaise chuckled, and Theo scowled.
“Right, we’ve trespassed on your hospitality for too long, Granger. Must be off.” Theo said, putting his empty mug in the sink as Blaise laughed at his friend throwing a little tantrum.
“Is it my hospitality if it’s not my house?” She mused, and Theo snapped out of his mood.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. Squatter’s rights, no? I’m sure darling Draco would have no qualms about you staying.” He smirked, and Blaise snorted lightly.
“Mmm, I’d discuss a permanent contract with him on Sunday.”
“You two are honestly so strange sometimes. Go on, get out. It’s late.” She shooed them towards the floo with both wizards chuckling.
Once they were gone, she placed the two photos on Malfoy’s desk, smiling fondly.
Thursday - FrankHENstein
Hermione had Myrtle’s lead in one hand, and an egg box in the other as she left the house. The chickens were producing more eggs than she knew what to do with, so she thought she’d see if Linda would like any. The shop was small, like the rest of the village, with shelves packed and overflowing. She spotted Linda behind the counter for the post office, talking to an elderly gentleman.
“Hermione!” Linda waved when she spotted her.
“Hi Linda, Drake’s chickens have been laying like mad this week, so I brought you a few eggs, if you wanted them?”
“Oh! That’s so kind of you, dear. They must be happy with you if they’re laying so much. Ah, Roger, this is Hermione. She’s looking after Drake’s house whilst he’s away.”
“Nice to meet you.” Hermione smiled politely, and Roger tipped his flat cap to her.
“Drake is such a pleasant young gentleman. Fixed my gate last winter, you know, and refused to let me pay him for it. I had my wife make him a fruit cake instead.” Hermione was, once again, blindsided by the villager’s stories of Draco and his apparently endless well of kindness. The money didn’t surprise her, though. The man had more than he knew what to do with.
“He’s always like that. I see you share his innate generosity though, dear. Where on earth did the pair of you come from, eh?” Linda smiled, and Hermione shook her head.
“We went to school together, perhaps something stuck.”
“Ah! Are you the mysterious woman, then?” Roger elbowed her gently, but Linda interrupted.
“No, no, they’re just friends, Roger! Honestly.”
“A shame. A young, strapping lad like that should have the ladies falling at his feet.”
“He’s back on Saturday, maybe I’ll see if I can get a name out of him then. Solve this mystery for us all.” Hermione smiled broadly, and the two muggles laughed. “I’ll let you get on, I was just dropping off the eggs. See you later.” She waved and ventured out of the shop and back to Myrtle, who she’d tied up against the shop sign.
As she was leaving, she heard murmuring.
“He’s a fool if it isn’t her, Linda.”
Friday - Motherclucker
“Salazar, look at you. Domestic bloody goddess.” Pansy proclaimed as she stepped from the floo. Whilst she’d been waiting for her friend to arrive, Hermione had decided to bake some pumpkin cookies. She figured she might as well use Malfoy’s kitchen, seeing as she couldn’t imagine he did often.
“Using up some of these eggs. Honestly, does Malfoy eat ten a day? What does he do with them all?” She brushed her hands on her jeans and stuck the tray into the oven.
“We don’t tend to discuss his egg habits, unfortunately.” Pansy smirked, leaning her arms on the island. “How’s it been this week?”
“Good, actually. I’ve got a bit attached, I’ll be sad to leave.”
“Well, Draco will have zero issues with you coming to visit, you know that.”
“Yeah, I know. How are you? Ready for this?”
“I think so. And, of course, lovely Myrtle is here, aren’t you?” She fussed the dog, who nosed Pansy’s legs affectionately.
“I haven’t walked her yet today, if you fancy going out to the woods? It’s very peaceful, I thought it might be better than staying inside.”
Pansy fixed her with a look. “If this is a plot to murder me and dump my body, I will haunt you so hard, Granger.” Hermione laughed and held up her hands.
“I can’t believe you saw right through me.” She glanced inside the oven. “These will only need another five minutes if you’re ok to wait?”
“I’ve got nowhere to be. Hey, can I see the rabbits? Blaise said you’re some sort of bunny whisperer.”
“So it was more parroting what you’d heard from the people around you then? Rather than genuinely believing those things?” She asked the dark-haired witch. They were strolling through the woods, Myrtle happily walking between them. It had been a little colder than she’d anticipated, so Pansy had thrown her Malfoy’s quidditch jersey to wear. She’d said it was the warmest thing she’d ever borrowed and was almost tempted to take up the sport just to get one of her own. She’d been right, Hermione was incredibly cosy swathed in the fabric.
“I think it’s a little more complicated than that. I think I did hold those beliefs, but only because I’d been taught them by people I idolised, you know? I didn’t think my father would ever lie to me, so I took his word as gospel. With it being reinforced by those around me, particularly the Malfoys, I never questioned it. I think it was you, actually, that was the catalyst for all of us, whether we realised it at the time or not. It’s quite hard to maintain the opinion that I’m a better witch than you because of my blood status when you are so damn capable. I mean, if the brightest witch of the age isn’t pureblooded, how can purity mean anything at all?”
Hermione hummed. “Pretend it isn’t me you’re talking to for a moment. Do you think you and your friends targeted Hermione Granger specifically because of that? That it was a turning point that you didn’t want to acknowledge, so you doubled down?”
“Definitely. Draco and Theo would have been tied for the top of the year had you, I mean had Granger, not been consistently better than them. When you’re told from an early age that muggleborns are not worthy of magic, it’s quite a shock to find somebody like Granger that is stupidly talented in every aspect. It definitely began to sow seeds of doubt, and I didn’t want to face that, so I ignored it and called you, her, names instead.”
“And now? Your friendship group is a mixture of purebloods, half-bloods, and muggleborns. Is that something you still think about?” She looked at her, and Pansy smiled.
“I do, but it’s in a positive way now. I am so proud of how far I’ve come, of how far we all have. It took the war to bring us together, and I will forever regret the part I played in that, but I love what my life looks like now. I often think that if I’m doing something, or if I’m with someone, and I know that it would piss off my father, then it’s the right thing to do.”
“Do you miss him? Having that parental figure in your life?”
Pansy’s face grew tense for a moment. “No. I probably would miss him more if I had no one, but Narcissa, Draco’s mother, has stepped up for all of us. She’s always been the most nurturing, the least indoctrinated I suppose, and she was, and is, a second mother to me. I lost my mother when I was young, and my father was always disappointed that I was a girl, so our relationship wasn’t close. To him, my only job was to get married to a rich, pureblooded man, and secure our status in society. With him in Azkaban, I’ve finally had the space to learn my worth, to find my own place.”
“I will ask them both before I put this in the book, but do you think that’s why Narcissa lied to Voldemort? About Harry?” Hermione had always wondered about that. It had been such a surprise, but as she found out more about the witch, it didn’t seem quite so out of character.
“As much as I would like to say that it was, that she was secretly on your side all along, I don’t think it was. She might not have bought into blood purity as strongly as others, but she very much still held elitist views. She is fiercely protective of her family, and that stopped including Lucius the second he brought the Dark Lord into her home. She’d do anything for Draco, and that is why she lied to that monster. Narcissa is a slytherin, after all.” Pansy smirked, and a thought occurred to Hermione.
“Absolute loyalty to those that matter, I get that. Can I ask you something? This isn’t for the book anymore, it’s just something I’ve always wondered about. Is there another house you think you’d fit into? Obviously, people mention ravenclaw to me a lot.”
“Mm. You, Draco, and Theo would be right at home in ravenclaw, I reckon. I think me and Blaise could have been gryffindors in another life.” They stopped as Myrtle sniffed a patch of ground. Hermione nodded.
“I could see that actually. I always thought Ginny and Harry would have been slytherins. Ron’s hufflepuff, obviously.” She rolled her eyes, and Pansy grinned.
“Oh, Ginevra would have been a fabulous snake, that woman has an excellent streak for mischief.”
“You know Harry was a hat stall? It wanted to put him in slytherin but changed its mind when he begged it for any other house.”
“I didn’t know that. Damn, how different would things have been if Potter had been a snake. Does Theo know that?” Pansy smirked, and Hermione shrugged.
“I don’t know. Harry might have told him.”
“He’d lose his mind. He’s already bloody obsessed with him, but that might push him over the edge. I could see you in slytherin, too, you know.” She eyed her, and Hermione looked at her sceptically.
“Really?”
“Absolutely, you’ve got that cunning side to you. Putting Skeeter in that jar, for example, was a very slytherin move.”
Hermione suddenly realised that Pansy had stopped again, and turned round, spying Malfoy’s camera in her hand.
“I didn’t realise you brought that?”
“Draco has always had a penchant for photographs. I figured he’d appreciate a photo of his three favourite girls.” She smirked, holding up the camera to snap a photo of the two of them and Myrtle.
They then wandered back to the house, before Hermione struck up conversation again in the kitchen.
“I’m not sure I’m on that list, Pans.” She shook her head, smiling softly, and Pansy looked at her incredulously.
“Granger, you’re not an idiot. Surely you’ve noticed how he looks at you?”
“What? He looks at me the same way he looks at everyone.”
Pansy snorted. “He absolutely does not, you great moron. You’ve been in his house a week, are you telling me you’ve found zero clues?”
“Well, he does have Hermione roses in the greenhouse, but that’s a coincidence. They came from the Manor.” She said defensively, and Pansy sighed deeply.
“And they had Hermione roses at the Manor in the first place for what reason, exactly? Great Salazar, I thought it was him that was putting the brakes on this thing, but it turns out it’s you.”
“I really don’t know what you mean, Pansy. Malfoy would never like me like that, it’s too…complicated.” She looked down at her hands, fiddling with her fingers nervously.
“It is not. Look, ask him tomorrow when he gets back. In fact, wear that jersey again. He’ll be on his knees.” Pansy said, and Hermione snorted.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Why are you so convinced of this? Surely you aren’t insecure, you’re the most stupidly beautiful person I know, you don’t even have to try, it’s dreadfully unfair.” Her tone was softer now, and Hermione groaned quietly.
“He told some people from the village that he fell for someone who doesn’t love him back. Someone he went to school with. There’s no way that’s me, Pansy, be serious.”
“Hermione, I want you to look at me when I say this. Ask him about this tomorrow. Please. I cannot stand by and watch you two idiots dance around each other any longer.”
“No, I’m not bloody asking him anything! I’d rather not make a total fool of myself.” She folded her arms over her chest, and Pansy ran a hand through her hair.
“Fucking- Alright, fine, I’ll drop it. Hey, have you got an envelope lying around?”
“Um, yeah, in that drawer.” She pointed to the table by the door, and Pansy fished out a cream envelope and tucked something inside it.
“Love that you know that. Ok, give this to Draco, will you? Don’t look at me like that, I wouldn’t do anything to upset you. Not anymore.” She scowled at Hermione’s sceptical look, and Hermione relented.
“No, I know. I just- I’m really happy with where our friendship is, you know? I don’t want to risk it.”
“I can respect that. We fought hard to get here.”
“Thank you for helping with the book. I know it’s hard to talk about that stuff.”
“Needed to be done, I think. The boys mentioned you’re thinking of writing to McGonagall? I think that’s a really good idea, Granger.”
“I’ll see when it’s finished. We were chatting, Theo, Blaise and I, and I think it could really benefit people to hear about everything from both sides, muggleborn and pureblood.”
“I agree. Gods, I’m shattered. I’m never getting a dog, they’re far too much work, even if they are as lovely as Myrtle.” She stretched her arms, and Hermione fussed Myrtle’s head.
“I’ve always been a cat person, but this one might have converted me.”
“I think I’ll be off home. I will take some of those cookies, though.” She smirked, and Hermione rolled her eyes, wrapping a few of them up for her.
As she stepped onto the hearth, Pansy turned and pointed at Hermione. “Wear that jersey tomorrow.” She was gone before Hermione could protest.
That night, she didn’t sleep well. Pansy’s words were ringing in her ears, and Leo’s fur was in her face. Her brain was running at a thousand miles an hour. She sat up straight suddenly, Carina mewing angrily at being disturbed. Her Yule Ball dress. The layers of periwinkle tulle that had swathed her that night. The exact colour of the wisteria that covered the front of Malfoy’s house.
Saturday - Chickovksy
Hermione was with the rabbits, fussing Pavo gently after having changed their straw when Malfoy returned.
“Didn’t realise you were into quidditch, Granger?” He said, making her jump. She turned, and he was leaning against the doorframe, smirking at her. She’d been wearing his jersey all morning, after wrestling with her realisations from last night.
“I would have been sooner if I’d known about these. This is the warmest thing I’ve ever worn, you know that?” He smiled, and walked closer, frowning slightly as he realised what she was doing.
“What have you done to my rabbits?”
“Oh, yeah, they like me, apparently. I didn’t need the gloves at all.” She smiled, stroking Pavo’s head once more before stepping out of the run, closing the gate gently.
“You would be the one to break the pattern, wouldn’t you? Was it specifically to spite me?”
“Just got a way with animals, I guess. Did you see the envelopes in the kitchen? Those are yours.” He shook his head and disappeared inside.
After quickly feeding the chickens, she rushed inside to find Malfoy leaning over the island, laughing to himself. He looked up at her as she entered, and her heart clenched at the sight of his wide smile.
“These are great. I told you he’d try and steal Fornax.” She scoffed.
“I was in the study, they were not being quiet at all. Didn’t even notice me until I called out.” She grinned, and he shook his head, looking at the photos again.
“I’m framing all of these.” He said, stacking them in a neat pile. She noticed there were four, and she wondered where the fourth had come from. Perhaps that was what Pansy had put in her envelope?
“How was your mother?” She asked, setting about making them both tea.
“Yeah, good. Pansy owled her about your book, she wants to talk to you about some stuff, if you were up for that?”
“Oh, that would be great! Yeah, we kind of touched on her relationship with you all yesterday, so it would be nice to get her perspective if she was willing to offer that.”
“She was oddly enthusiastic about the idea. Owl her any time, she really wants to help.”
“I will do. Oh, you want one of these? I made them yesterday.” She said, offering him the plate of cookies.
“Did you? Oh, you can absolutely stay again.” He said, grabbing three.
“Had to use up the eggs somehow. Seriously, what do you do with them all? I ended up taking some to Linda.”
“You met her then?” She nodded and passed him his mug.
“Mmhmm. And Roger. Both are incredibly fond of you, it seems. They’re deeply concerned that you’re still single, you know. Apparently, it’s a terrible shame.” She smirked, and he shook his head.
“They’re worse than my mother, honestly. Did Linda mention, er-” She interrupted him with a wry smile.
“Your secret crush from school? She did. I’ve been wracking my brain trying to work out who it is, but I’m coming up blank. Unless it’s Millie Bulstrode, I’ve got nothing.”
“Bulstrode? Seriously? And they call you the brightest witch of the age, honestly.” He shook his head at her disapprovingly.
“Go on then, who is it? I won’t tell her, I promise.”
“Yeah, I’m taking that secret to the grave, unfortunately. She’d never be interested.” He said, avoiding her gaze.
“Well, you don’t know that unless you tell her. Why wouldn’t anyone want you, Malfoy? You’ve got eight chickens, for Merlin’s sake.” She smirked over the rim of her mug, and he shot her a withering look.
“I’ve found the chickens are usually more of a turn-off, if anything. Women don’t tend to be on board with the chickens.”
“Then they don’t know what they’re missing.” She said, and he looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite recognise.
He sighed deeply, as if gathering strength for something, and accio’d something from his bag.
“Are you alright?” Her brows were furrowed as she took him in. He seemed nervous all of a sudden, and she couldn’t begin to fathom why.
He slid the frame that he’d summoned towards her, and she was looking at a photo of the two of them. They were dancing together at Theo and Harry’s New Year’s party, Malfoy spinning her around, broad smiles on both of their faces. She hadn’t realised anyone had photographed them that night.
“I’ve not seen this before.” She said, putting her mug down and picking up the frame.
“Potter took it. It’s usually in my room, next to one of me and my mother.” Her eyes widened as she realised this was the photo that was missing from his drawers. She looked up at him.
“Why take it with you?”
“I, er. I didn’t want you to think I was really creepy having a photo of us in my bedroom when we aren’t, well. Yeah.” He trailed off, and she put the photo down.
“What are you saying?” She asked, and he looked down.
“Look, I have no expectations here, I know it’s stupid of me.”
“Wait, it’s me? The woman you told Linda about?” Hermione was in shock, her brain empty of all thought.
“Yeah, it is. I’m sorry, Granger, I don’t mean to make this uncomfortable.” He said quickly, flushing red slightly.
“The roses, the wisteria, none of it’s a coincidence?” She mumbled, and he cringed.
“It’s not, no. If you want to go home, that’s fine. We don’t need to talk about this again, but I just- I guess I’d hoped for something to happen. I know it’s never going to, you don’t need to let me down gently.”
“What?” She said, not fully understanding what was happening.
“I’ll just-” He picked up the photos and walked towards the study, his shoulders slumped, and Myrtle beside him, ever the loyal companion.
“Malfoy, wait.” She said firmly, snapping out of her stupor.
He turned and looked at her. “It’s fine, honestly, Granger. I don’t-”
“Will you shut up for a second, you utter prat! I thought you’d never be interested in me so I never said anything. You’re telling me we could have been doing this for years?”
“Wait, you-” His eyebrows shot up.
“Of course, I bloody do, you idiot.” She grinned, and he put the photos down on the sofa before making his way towards her.
“Do you mean that?” He asked, vulnerability painted across his face. She rolled her eyes and pulled him by the shoulders into a kiss. His hands were immediately in her hair, and she fisted his jumper. They both smiled into the kiss, and her heart felt full.
“You really liked the chickens, huh?” He asked, pulling back. She laughed, pressing her face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, and it felt like coming home. “You’ve turned me into a ridiculously saccharine fool, Granger. End my suffering, I beg of you.” He mumbled into her hair, pressing kisses to the crown of her head.
She pulled back to see his face. “Linda’s going to be thrilled about this.”
He snorted, grinning broadly. “I had to talk to someone about you or I would have exploded. Or maybe have done something even more obvious, like name one of the chickens after you.”
“Henmione?” She raised an eyebrow, and he grimaced.
“Oh, that is awful, yeah absolutely not.”
“Guess I’ll have to be happy with the flowers. And the photos.” She smirked, and he rolled his eyes.
“Yes, alright, there’s no need to be smug.”
She chuckled, before remembering something. “What was the photo Pansy gave you?”
“Gods, does anything get past you? Merlin.” He muttered, passing her the fourth photo. It was of her and Myrtle walking yesterday in the woods. Her hair blowing in the wind, the dog excitedly trotting along next to her, and ‘Malfoy’ proudly displayed across her back. She turned it over and written on the back was a short message.
D,
Tell her.
P x
She smiled up at him. “The jersey is working for you, then?”
“You have no idea. I think I might actually be dead and this is all some sort of delusion created by my dying brain.”
She pecked him on the lips and hummed. “Mm. Seems real to me.”
“I’m going to need to check more thoroughly, I think. You know, for science.” He said seriously, gently grabbing her face with both hands.
“Who am I to stand in the way of science?” She muttered before their lips met again.
“Stay.” He whispered, and she nodded.
Sunday - Buck Beak
The next morning, Hermione tapped Draco’s chest gently, waking him up as she noticed the time.
“We have to feed the animals.” She whispered, and he chuckled lowly.
“I know. But they’ll survive for five more minutes. I’ve not entirely decided if you’re real yet.” He replied, wrapping his arms around her tightly and shoving his face into her hair. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”
“It’s not a competition, Malfoy.” She laughed.
“Can’t help but feel like I’ve won, though.”
She groaned. “Is this a thing now? Your brain’s abandoned you and all I get is soppy mush.”
“I’m still adjusting. I’m hoping to regain my faculties at some point.”
“Malfoy, we need to feed the animals.” She repeated, and he sighed loudly.
“Fine, fine. If we must.” He stood up suddenly and picked up the quidditch jersey from the floor, where it had been promptly thrown the previous night. He tossed it at her and smirked.
She laughed. “Are you going to let me wear anything else ever again?”
“Not if I can help it. Keep that forever, please.” He replied as he pulled grey joggers and a black t-shirt from one of the drawers. She decided she quite liked seeing him so casual. It was a side to him that wasn’t usually for other people, but here she was with front-row seats. It made her feel special, in a bizarre way. “If you keep looking at me like that, the animals will not be getting fed any time soon, Granger.” She snapped out of her thoughts and found him smiling at her. She scowled, and pulled the jersey over her head, finding her leggings and socks from their place on the floor.
They worked well as a team without needing to discuss much. She fed the rabbits whilst Malfoy went in with the chickens. Seeing him fuss over Buck Beak with more affection than most parents did their children made her go a bit weak at the knees, but she pulled herself together and left the hutch after giving Cassie the attention she was demanding. The other two were less interested in her that morning, and she wondered if they sensed that Malfoy was home and didn’t know how to behave around both of them. Back in the kitchen, Malfoy slid the red mug towards her and smiled.
She looked down at it and frowned. “Wait-”
“You’d not clocked that one yet?” He asked, and she snorted into her tea.
“You’re truly ridiculous, you know that? Why on earth do I have my own mug?”
“Because I’m a sad, lonely man with nothing better to do. You’ve been using it, though.” She knew she’d left it on the draining board, so couldn’t argue with that. A thought crossed her mind.
“Is that why Blaise and Theo were so vastly entertained the other night? I thought they were just oddly interested in your crockery.”
“Blaise was with me when I bought it in a blind panic after you agreed to house-sit.” He cringed. “Am I scaring you off yet?”
She laughed. “Oddly enough, no. I’m 99% sure you aren’t planning on locking me away somewhere, but if you are, I could definitely beat you in a duel if I had to.”
“I do not doubt that, Granger.” He smiled and then fussed Myrtle as she nosed him in the side of his knee. “Did you want to walk her? I promised Linda I’d find her once I was back. She’ll be up by now, I think.” He checked his watch to confirm.
“My debut as your mystery woman already? I am honoured.” She smirked, and he laughed, wandering around the island and kissing her on the crown of her head.
“You can get changed if you want, by the way. I was only joking about this, as much as it suits you.” He gently pulled the sleeve of the jersey, and she hummed.
“It is going to need to be washed at some point. Today is the third day I’ve had it on.” She whipped it off, leaving her topless, and headed for the stairs, tossing a cheeky smile over her shoulder.
“You can’t do that to me. That’s unfair.” He whined, and she laughed loudly.
“Drake! Oh, how was your mother, dear? Have you had a nice week?” Linda bundled him into a tight hug as soon as she opened her door, and Hermione was slightly taken aback by just how close they were. She’d not realised that.
“She’s well, thank you, Linda. How is your hip? Have you been resting it?” He asked, and she waved him off.
“I’m not made of glass, there’s no need to fret.” She replied and then noticed he wasn’t alone. “Oh, Hermione! Sorry, my love, I didn’t see you there. Well, come in, both of you.” She ushered them in, with Myrtle running past them straight into the garden, through the open back door.
“Myrtle’s been here before then?” She asked with a smile.
“Oh yes. This one’s always here, I can hardly get rid of him.” Linda smiled, touching Hermione’s arm as Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Tell me, have you grilled him yet? You promised me you would.”
Hermione caught Malfoy’s gaze and smiled. “I did, as it happens. It came as quite the surprise.” She replied, and Linda frowned for a moment before she looked between them and laughed.
“How wonderful! Just lovely, you two. I must admit, as soon as I met you, Hermione, I did wonder. You’re just so alike.” She said, before turning to Malfoy and pulling him into another hug. “I knew how it would be. You deserve every happiness, my dear.”
Later on that day, she was packing up her stuff, pointedly ignoring the pouting wizard reclined against his headboard.
“Do you absolutely have to leave?” He asked for the hundredth time, and she smiled.
“Malfoy, we’re adults, not randy teenagers who can’t bear to be apart from each other for more than five minutes.”
“Speak for yourself.” He muttered, and she raised an eyebrow. “I know. I want to do this properly too. It just feels weird that you’ve been here for a week, and I only get you for one day.”
“You’re under the impression that I won’t be coming back?” She asked.
“Well, we haven’t made any concrete plans.” He replied defensively, and she let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head.
“Do you want to make some concrete plans?”
“I am communicating, Granger. Don’t mock me when I’m communicating, I’m not good at it. Yes, I would like to make plans for you to come back.”
“You busy tomorrow night?” She asked, and his face softened into a smile.
“No.”
“There you go then. Plans.” She grinned as she folded the last of her clothes and zipped up her bag, the not-so-legal extension charm doing its work well. He laughed, standing up and pulling her into a hug, his chin resting on her head. “There’s no getting rid of me now, Malfoy.” She said into his chest, voice muffled by his shirt.
“No complaints from me about that.” He replied. A thought crossed her mind and she pulled away.
“Are we keeping this a secret? If I owl your mother about the book, how much should I tell her?”
He snorted lightly and looked down at her. “Everyone already knows how I feel about you, Granger. Including my mother. If you want to keep it quiet, then that’s what we’ll do, but I warn you now, subtlety has never been my forte.”
“I had noticed that, actually.” She smirked, and he shot her a withering glance. “Will your mother be alright about this? I’m not exactly-”
He cut her off. “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t. If you get through a whole day with her and she doesn’t try to ask for your opinion on napkin colours for our wedding, I will be deeply surprised. She is the most astute woman on the planet, I’ve never been able to get anything past her. She knew I liked you before I did. She’s been horrendously impatient waiting for me to do something about it.”
“Oh.” She said, slightly surprised. She’d been expecting at least some protest from Narcissa, either to do with her lack of wealth or muggle parentage. “What if I don’t have an opinion on napkins for our wedding?” She asked.
“You’ve got a few years to find some strong feelings, don’t panic.” He replied, kissing her on the crown of her head.
“I’m going to ask Buck Beak to be my maid of honour.” She grinned, and they laughed together in his bedroom, the photo of her walking Myrtle having already joined the other two on his chest of drawers. He hadn’t really been entirely what Hermione had expected, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t like what she saw. Probably a bit more than like, if she was really honest with herself.
He carried her bag down the stairs for her, even though the featherlight charm made it weigh nothing, and sighed as she stood by the floo.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, Malfoy, you don’t need to look quite so forlorn.” She teased, and he rolled his eyes.
“Fine, get out then. I have no strong feelings about you leaving, I’m entirely indifferent.” He quipped, holding out the pot of floo powder for her. “Be here around 6, I’ll cook for us.”
She whirled around. “You cook as well?! How are you not bombarded daily by witches?”
“Oh, I am. I’ve just got very high standards.” He replied, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“Good to know. Bye then, Malfoy.” She went to step onto the hearth, but he caught her arm and pulled her back for a final kiss. It lasted for a few moments before she started laughing, resting her forehead against his.
“Night, Hermione.” He whispered, and she beamed.
“Goodnight, Draco.” She replied, thoroughly enjoying the way he went almost entirely pliant in her arms.
“Yeah, you need to go now, or I’ll drag you back upstairs.” He groaned, forcing himself to take a step away from her.
She chuckled, and called out her address, stepping into the green flames. Before she landed back in her own home, she saw Draco grinning to himself like somebody who had just caught the golden snitch, and she found herself suddenly incredibly impatient for tomorrow. Impatient for the rest of their lives really. She stepped into her living room, dumped her bag, and immediately turned around and floo’d back to Draco’s.
He was crouched down, fussing Myrtle with both hands. “Isn’t she wonderful, Tilly? Aren’t we just the luckiest?” He said, and she grinned. He looked up at the sound of the floo and frowned. Standing up, and checking his watch, he smirked. “Is it tomorrow already?”
She shrugged. “Changed my mind.” She said indifferently, and a moment passed before he crossed the room and picked her up in his arms. Her legs went around his hips, and he walked them both to the stairs, Hermione laughing all the way.