XXIV.
Draco left Nott and Granger to their work with her counter-potion. They’d been working on it most of the day. It was nearly closing time when Draco arrived at the club. Zabini gave him a head nod, and Pansy gratefully wrapped him in a tight hug. They had never had a fight before. Not a real one. And it felt difficult to leave things like they did last night.
Blaise flipped the closed sign over the club, and Pansy poured him a glass of wine. He sat at the bar and twirled the stem in his fingers.
“I’m not sorry, you know,” Pansy started off.
“I figured as much,” he said.
“Well, I am sorry for lying to you,” she countered to Blaise. “But not you.”
Blaise returned and grabbed the seat next to Draco. He poured himself a drink.
“So now what?” Blaise asked. “We kiss and makeup?”
Draco flipped him off.
Pansy wrapped her hands around Draco’s and kissed the top of them.
“Yes,” she said.
“How do we move forward?” Draco asked. “How do we fix this?”
“Nott said he’s got Granger helping with the potion now,” Blaise said.
“He does,” Draco nodded as he took a drink of the Merlot.
“You’ve been studying healing for years,” Pansy said. “If anyone can stop the effects of the casting, it’s you.”
“And the vow?”
The thought of it made Draco’s blood boil. It was the same fucking thing Snape had lost his life agreeing to. And now his best friend did the same bloody thing with Granger. He knew how this played out. He’d seen it all before.
“It’s not the same,” Pansy said as if she could read his mind.
“Bullocks.”
“So we don’t focus on the vow now,” Blaise said. “As long as you stay out of trouble, so does Granger. So we focus on the things that we can control. Bringing down Shacklebolt. Killing Crespo.”
“You’re not killing anyone,” Pansy glared.
Blaise offered a noncommittal shrug.
“I think Smith can be trusted,” Draco said.
Pansy and Blaise exchanged a look, and both of them nodded.
“He keeps out of the gossip around here,” Pansy agreed.
“His name is clean down below, too,” Blaise agreed.
Blaise had overseen the majority of the underground fighting rings for the last few years. Gossip traveled easily there. It was a way for people to release their aggression without raising too much alarm. Blaise’s family had always overseen it. He carried on the legacy. Draco knew Blaise used to fight himself, but Pansy put a stop to that years ago once they got married. He happily obliged. His cousins handle a lot of the dirtier work now, but he still has the final say in the big decisions.
“I’ll do some digging,” Draco said. “But I have a gut feeling we can trust Smith. He doesn’t even fall into Potter’s fan club.”
“So what do we do about the Inferi?” Blaise asked.
“Granger’s out,” Draco snapped.
“So are the rest of you,” Pansy argued.
“So we just let them turn more former Death Eaters into Inferi and hope they don’t pick Draco?” Blaise asked.
“I did a scan of Granger today. It’s like she’s got a damn dementor inside of her. Dark magic everywhere.”
“Is it spreading?”
Draco spun his empty wine glass around absently in his hands. Pansy reached for it and refilled it.
“It’s not metastasized like muggle cancers. It’s different. Like part of her has become dark and corroded. It reminds me of the mark. It’s just settled over her like a cloak. It’s not growing or spreading, it’s just sitting there. Suffocating her.”
“She’s been through hell,” Pansy whispered.
Blaise reached out for Pansy’s hand and brought it to his lips.
“If you wouldn’t have helped her when you did, she’d be dead. She needed you and Nott,” he said.
Draco hated to agree, but Blaise was right. Granger wouldn’t have lasted six months without Pansy and Theo’s intervention. Thank Godric she’d found them. Or they’d found her.
Pansy nodded her head, but her eyes were still filled with emotion.
“I want this over for her,” she said.
“We all do,” Draco said. “I’ll rip Crespo’s fucking head off myself if I have to.”
“I think you’ll have to get in line,” Pansy said with a dark look. “Granger deserves the revenge kill. Especially after what they did to her parents.”
Draco and Blaise’s heads both snapped up to look at Pansy.
“What?”
An eerie silence fell over the group.
“Crespo tortured her parents. Left them worse off than the Longbottoms. Hermione had to mercy kill them. That’s the same night she crashed into our dumpsters. She tried to apparate home, but she was too hurt from the dark magic.”
Draco’s world went black.
He could hear Pansy speaking and Blaise. But he felt like he was underwater. That’s why her parents had been killed the same way. It’s because they were the first. He felt sick. She loved them so much, and they were tortured. He thought about last night and how she’d led him through Cambridge. She talked affectionately about how her parents met there. They’d been so in love, and she practically glowed when she spoke about them. And their lives were cut short.
“I have to go,” Draco pushed away from the bar and put on his coat.
“She loves you,” Pansy said quietly.
Draco turned slowly to face Pansy. His eyes were wide with confusion and doubt.
“She does,” Pansy argued.
Blaise offered him a sad smile as he stood and wrapped his arms around his wife.
“It’d be okay if you admitted your feelings, too,” she said. “It’d give her somewhere to feel safe again.”
***
Granger was asleep on the couch when he arrived home. She’d fallen asleep reading Hogwarts, A History. Nott gave him a wink before heading out the door. He watched Granger sleep. Her disheveled curls swallowed the pillow beneath her. The glow of the fireplace made her freckles look even darker as they splattered across her small nose. She seemed so small. So fragile.
He processed what Pansy had said. Admit his feelings? What were his feelings? Could he even say? He scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. He fucking loved her. He loved Hermione Fucking Granger. He loved the way she sketched tiny mountain ranges in the margins of her parchments and notes. He loved the way she smelled like spring. He loved her brilliant mind and how she always pushed herself to know more. He loved that she was willing to die to protect anyone lucky enough to be loved by her. He loved the way she’d argue with him, roll her eyes at him, and fight back with him. He loved the way she sounded in the morning when her voice was scratchy with sleep. He loved the way her wild hair had a mind of its own. He’d loved her since their third year when she broke his nose. And he’d made it his mission to absorb every scrap of information about her since then.
Draco never imagined there’d be an opportunity in this world to love Hermione Granger. He never believed he was good enough, strong enough, moral enough, or smart enough. But Godric, did she make him want to try. He wanted to be all of those things for her. He wanted to worship her. He wanted to give her the world. He wanted to murder anyone who had ever hurt her. He didn’t give a fuck about blood status, money, or the fact that she was completely tainted with dark magic now. He would love her light and her darkness. He wanted to be her safe place. Her home.
“I love her,” he whispered out loud.
He felt a weightlessness overtake him. Disbelief settled over him. He’d admitted it. He exhaled and slumped against the couch. He’d never said those words to anyone before. They felt strange rolling off his lips. But he wanted to say it more. He felt it so strongly. And he’d been given a second chance. Granger was alive. She was here.
He walked over to her and placed the book on the table. He gently lifted her into his arms, and she buried her nose against his chest with a deep inhale. He transfigured her into her usual sleeping attire as he placed her back in his bed.
Tomorrow was a new start. Draco was a man in love. And Granger wasn’t going to know what fucking hit her.