Who Am I Now
She woke with a start. She checked the space to her left and noticed the slow and deep even breaths of Draco. He seemed to be sleeping fitfully. Hermione smiled wistfully, oh how she missed sleeping next to him. With a soft sigh, she sat up and glanced at the clock on her nightstand.
3 am, the witching hour some would call it. She used to snort at the saying. An hour with the most magical activity sounded ridiculous, however after years of waking up at 3 am on the dot without any explanation other than her constant nightmares she had to wonder if the saying had a bit of truth to it.
It wasn’t that the nightmares were frightening. No, she’d long past defeated Bellatrix Lestrange several times over in her sleep. Possibly even gave the long-dead bitch a taste of her own medicine a few hundred times or so. Yet that didn’t stop the cruel red eyes from staring deep into her soul, looking for weakness. Screaming for her to prove herself, prove her loyalty.
She glanced over her shoulder at her husband. Loyalty, that’s what they were made up of. Trust…well they’d been in a war before this. Trust is fickle when you are fighting on opposing sides. But loyalty was something that couldn’t be shaken. She’d proved herself time and time again. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the man behind her would have many more hoops for her to jump through.
Quietly she got out of bed and made her way over to the bathroom. With a light click of the door, she heaved a deep breath and glanced in the mirror. Something she had long since learned to not do. Her curls were coming out of the braid she’d done before bed, and her eyes had their usual dark circles, her bags had bags, who also had bags, and her skin was on the dry side.
Wandlessly she started casting her usual beauty charms. Draco didn’t need to see her that way. Not after what he’d experienced. A sentence that was undeserving of the crimes that were committed. Paying for actions that weren’t his, yet she had the nerve to be restless, and unkempt. It was shameful actually. She had wished she’d known he was coming home earlier. Maybe then she’d have tried to get herself together a bit more. Stomach a few meals, take some time off to catch up on rest and see her muggle therapist more than 4 times a year.
Once she looked halfway decent. Good enough to fool dear Mr.Malfoy she hoped; she brushed her teeth, slipped out of the bathroom, and crept out of the bedroom. Crooks, who kept pawing at the door after she and Draco finished making love, was restfully sleeping on the couch. His eyes narrowed as he woke up. He was still disgruntled about not being allowed to see his father.
“Good morning Crooks.” She murmured.
He swished his tail angrily in response. “I know, but the two of us needed a reunion, way more than you two.”
He turned his nose up and slowly closed his eyes. Her excuses meant nothing to him. Hermione shook her head and finished making her way into her small galley kitchen. It could get stuffy when she used the stove, but at this hour the warmth of putting the kettle on was welcomed. Not wanting to wake Draco, she waited by the kettle and took it off the fire the minute it started a low whistle.
As she made her tea she couldn’t help but think of her nightmare. It wasn’t a usual one she hadn’t had that particular nightmare in years. Voldemort, daring her to prove herself. She shook her head, she knew by now it was never about proving herself. It was about breaking her…breaking him. She could still see flashes of Draco’s crumpled form trembling. No, no, that’s over. She reminded herself, again shaking her head fiercely. She brought her tea to her lips and just as she took the first pull a sharp yell sounded from the bedroom. Without a moment to even notice the broken tea cup on the floor, she dashed to the bedroom. Flinging open the door she rushed to his side. Draco’s body was dripping in sweat and tense, his limbs locked and shaking. Instantly she knew he too was reliving the same nightmare.
Hermione turned on the bedside lamp and gently grasped her husband’s face. “Draco. Draco!” His jaw was still clenched tight as if he were experiencing the night of torture all over again. “Draco, love! I’m here, wake up, please! Please! You have to wake up, I’m right here!”
His eyes snapped open and he sat up and grabbed her by the shoulders. “You shouldn’t be here Granger!” His pupils were dilated, and he looked as frightened as he had been during the war. “You have to leave, he can’t find out about you!”
Slowly she drew her hands down his arms and gripped his hands tightly. “Draco. The war is over. You’re home, with me in my flat.” She spoke calmly, yet she could feel how raw her throat felt. That fateful night had changed the trajectory of their lives forever. Worse than even what had led them to be bound in the first place. She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I’m sorry, I think my nightmares might have triggered yours.”
His brow knitted together and looked around the room. Slowly he blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Gruffly he spoke. “Granger?”
“Malfoy.” She corrected.
He gave her a confused look and she rolled her eyes in response. “It’s Malfoy now.”
He ignored her explanation. “What do you mean, about the nightmares.”
She shrugged halfheartedly. “I had a nightmare about that night. I was having tea and just as I was recalling it, I heard you shout.”
He sneered at the thought he had screamed in his sleep. “It doesn’t work like that, Granger.”
“Malfoy.” again she corrected.
He cast his eyes to the side. “Whatever.”
She let go of his hands and stood. Summoning her wand, she turned to leave. “Yes, well I dropped my tea and I need to clean it up. So goodnight then.” It wasn’t the fact he’d called her Granger. No, it was the obvious distaste for her having his last name. It was too early to jump back into their old ways. She expected, well…she wasn’t sure what she expected of her husband and his life after Azkaban. She wasn’t even sure what she expected of her life with him after Azkaban. As she reached the kitchen threshold she took her wand and started to fix the cup. Her mind couldn’t help but drift to the question Draco had asked her yesterday. “Who are you after all these years, Granger.”
Who was she? No. Who is she? Whoam I now? A question she hadn’t allowed herself to ask in the past several years. Not since she was a girl. Not since she was just Harry Potter's best friend and not Hermione Jean Malfoy.
Draco didn’t leave the room, and when she checked in on him later he looked to be asleep. However, she knew him better than that. He’d always been bad at faking it. So she entered the room and lay down. For five whole minutes, he tried to fain sleep, and when he grew bored of that he turned over and stared at her. Slowly she adjusted so they were face to face.
.
.
.
.
She glanced at the clock she kept above the fireplace in her office and gave her fingers a light tap on the desk. They were late…She had already decided to use this time for holiday, as she had written to her boss last week. However, that was before everyone knew she was married to Draco.
She leaned back in her chair and huffed. There were no files in her desk, no paperwork in stacks in front of her. They’d cleaned the office overnight. She could scoff, it’s not like they were passing her bills anyway. Besides, what did they think she would do? Pencil in some barbaric blood supremacy laws alongside making giants a protected class. It would be laughable if it wasn’t so insulting. Once again she glanced at the clock.
She should be home right now, in bed with Draco, gazing into his eyes and he into hers. That’s what they had done all night…well not all night, but for most of it. They had never had this before. They had never had freedom before. Time to breathe and not feel the pressure to hide, time to speak loudly and clearly without being afraid of who might hear, and freedom to release their thoughts and open their minds to one another.
Not that Draco had done so yet. She hadn’t either, their gazes were more like a battle of wills. Both were too afraid to let down the walls of their occlumency. Neither was ready to be the one to speak of their past first. It was frightening. It made her heart pound, and her lungs feel tight with every inhale. He watched her and she watched him until the creeping rays of the sun snuck over his bare shoulder, and reflected off his icy hair. She had just reached up to touch it when a tapping against the window made her hand jerk back. She glanced over and could make out the shape of an owl behind the creamy sheer curtains. She glanced back to Draco and saw his eyes were closed. She’d lost, and he was no longer in the mood to play their game anymore.
Crawling out of bed she went over and opened the window and took the letter. The courier flew off immediately, it was a letter from the DMLE, and stamped by Kingsley. Lovely, she rolled her eyes to look at Draco who was already lightly snoring. Shaking her head she slipped on her robe and walked over to the door. “You’re still terrible at pretending to sleep, I imagine you didn’t have much else to do in Azkaban, you could have at least worked on it a bit, yeah?” Before she closed the door fully he sighed sleepily. “Fuck you, Granger.”
“Malfoy” She sang in correction and chuckled to herself down the hallway, on her now, third trip to the kitchen that morning. After buttering a slice of toast she opened the letter. She hated bad news on an empty stomach.
“Mrs.Malfoy by Request of the Wizengamot, all cases and former files of yours have been placed under review. Your office as property of the ministry has been submitted for a search for objects of interest and possible dark materials and or artifacts. At the request of the minister of magic, and by recommendation of Head Auror Robards, we ask that you please come in to be checked for any traces of curses, hexing, and memory alterations. Please meet us in your office at 7:30 sharp.”
Signed by the chief Warlock, Minister of Magic, and Head Auror.
Questioning. Ugh, she was quite disgusted as it was. She knew exactly what brought that on. The Daily Prophet Article was released this morning.
The Death Eaters Wife or The Death Eaters Puppet?
By Den.Creevey
War Heroine and best friend to our chosen one, Harry Potter, Hermione Jean Malfoy (née Granger) gave our world a shock yesterday. As you all may recall Death Eater, Draco Lucius Malfoy was released from Azkaban yesterday, after serving 4 years for the crimes of torture, and the murder of the great Albus Dumbledor. Death Eater, Malfoy, was to be released into the custody of a family member. As his mother Narcissa Black (formerly Malfoy) is still on probation, we all waited with bated breath to see who would come forward. Previously we here at the Prophet had reported that the ministry had yet to obtain the funds and properties from the seized assets of the Malfoy family. (Quote from Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt 8 months following the sentencing of the Malfoy family. “Unfortunately due to Gringotts magical contracts, we would need the acting executor to approve access to the vaults.” When asked to confirm whether the executor was another relative our minister had this to say. “As of now it has been confirmed that this person is not a Malfoy relative, however, we are opening an investigation into the families that have been involved with the Malfoy’s in the past. We expect to see results very soon.”) It seems the answers to our questions have been answered at last when Hermione Granger was revealed to be the wife of a man some would argue is still a monster. Many questions come to mind. How has this happened? Is Ms.Granger under the influence of the imperius curse? If so, could the ministry’s failure to retrieve the memories of Lucius Malfoy be the catalyst for it all? This reporter will find out, be on the watch with Creevey’s Conjectures!
Hermione had balled the paper up and tossed it into the flame of her fireplace. The prophet had always been scummy to her. It had gotten better once Rita was forced to retire. Not that she could blame Dennis for the article. She knew it came from a source of grief. The loss of Collin during the final battle had done a number on him.
Again she glanced at her clock. “7:30 sharp my arse.” She murmured while crossing her arms and giving another huff of air. Just as she thought to kick her heels off under her desk the door opened, and with a shock, she stood up. “Harry, Ron? What are you doing here? I have a meeting with...” She started but trailed off as Robards, Kingsley, and Flemmings joined them, along with a handful of Aurors. “ 10 to 1 then?” She hadn’t meant to say it but to be honest, it really wasn’t fair of them. Any of them.
She barely knew Robards, he was over the DMLE, and also the Auror sent along with the unspeakables who examined Lucius yearly. However, over the years she had learned many things about the way the man worked. After each encounter she would wait a month and visit her father-in-law, looking through his mind, searching for what they might have found or just reinforcing walls they had worked hard to tear down in the man’s mind. Not that she cared how much damage they’d done to him, but the idea that they might find something of use wasn’t a risk she was willing to take. One thing she did know was that when it came to Death Eaters Robards was like a new Madeye in the making. Ruthless, “-willing to sacrifice his humanity for the sake of breaking the will of any Death Eater and their sympathizers, if that’s what it takes.” His own words taken out of the head of a now frail close to catatonic man. Robards’ brow was hard and she noticed the slight difference in his stance from the other four. He was on edge and ready to use his wand at any moment.
She gave the other four a good look. Kingsley looked very tired, and a bit more stressed than usual. Being Minister for Magic after a war was anything but fair. Every right and every wrong was an opportunity to make a play at the man’s expense. He was neither favored nor disliked but always up on the gallows for the wizarding public’s criticisms. She supposed in this he was a neutral party.
Flemmings was ugh. She could barely stand to look. The man looked heartbroken, somber, and betrayed as if she had ripped his heart out, and the only thing that would make it better was if she were truly cursed. He seemed as if he was teetering on rushing to be by her side yet stopped only by the badge on his robes.
Then she was left with the other two. “I don’t suppose the two of you are here for moral support then?” She finally sat down at her desk and properly tangled her fingers together. “Harry Potter, the man who lived, and shut me out.” Harry flinched, but his eyes were hard and reminiscent of the headstrong boy she had once seen as a brother.
She cast a look at Ron whose eyes were narrowed at Flemmings. For years he thought that Flemmings was the reason things hadn’t worked out between them. Slowly his eyes drifted to her. “So Flemmings, you’re not as good of an Auror as you make yourself out to be are you? Couldn’t even pick up a hint of the imperius curse?” His lips curled.
The 180 was quick, one thing about Wallace Flemmings, the man could be quite the arrogant bloke. “Sorry, were you saying something Weasely, I thought it was agreed you could be in on the meeting as long as you didn’t talk?” He smirked.
Ron's jaw tensed and red splotches started to creep up his neck. Harry put a calming hand on his shoulder. “Not now.” He sighed and took a few steps to one of the chairs in front of her desk. He looked at her in question and with a nod in response he sat down. “Hermione, I don’t...” His eyes searched the space of her desk. Shaking his head he looked at her. “I don’t understand? When would he have had the time? In the manor?” He was whispered the last question, almost timid to bring up the last time -as far as he knew- she was in the manor.
She snorted. “Goodness, no Harry. It was before that.” She looked back at Robards whose hand had twitched just slightly. She felt a slight niggling in her head. “Auror Robard if you’d like a peek at my mind you are welcome to look. No need to be sloppy now.”
Robard nose pinched. “You’re an Occlumens?”
She nodded. “I’m more skilled at Ligilimency these days, however, the Occlumency was sort of a marriage gift.” She laughed lightly at her own joke. She took a glance up at the ceiling she had enchanted. The constellation had finally shown up in full after all this time. Usually, it was partially obscured by a cloud, hiding away her secret. “You could give me vitiruserm but as we all know it won’t work. You also can’t search my thoughts without being sure I’ve curated them.” She said while pondering in her thoughts. “You could do that little trick you do when you see Lucius.” She heard his sharp inhale. “Yes that special one, you know the one where you take the tip of your wand and come just mere millimeters from lobotomizing him, desperate to see what’s swimming being the madness that is what’s left of his mind.” She just barely whispered out, her eyes were sharper and part of her was tempted to slip into Robards' mind, but she held back. Not yet, right now he wasn’t exactly a threat. He was scared more than anything.
Finally, her eyes fell back to Robbards' twitchy wand hand. “I don’t particularly care what happens to him, I doubt even Draco does either. However, I don’t understand the need to further torment the man. He was lost to his own chaos the minute he willingly had that elf scramble his brain like eggs.”
Robards sneered and stepped forward. “The things those rotten Death Eaters did can't be undone, and as we speak there are still several on the run. If Malfoy has information on them, I want it!” His eyes narrowed. “I do wonder Mrs. Malfoy what do you know?”
Hermione huffed and looked at Kingsley. “I thought this was a search of my office. Which might I add seems unnecessary considering all my files are gone.”
Kingsley sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I apologize Hermione but this is being pushed by the Wizengamot. Too many questions are already being asked. You know we can't go easy on you.”
She shot to her feet and at the same time, Robards leveled his wand at her. Harry stood too, his hands up defensively in front of Robards. “Wait, just wait. We haven't even evaluated her first.”
Hermione scoffed. “Evaluate? What makes you think I'm letting you run a test on me, Harry Potter? What gives you the Right? ” Her arms crossed and her eyes are burned in the corners. “You’ve barely spoken a word to me in two years.” Her voice was low and broken. She felt the warmth of her tears breaking free. “I’ll ask again. What gives you the bloody, right?”
Harry's jaw clenched and he shook his head. “You're the one that changed Hermione. I'm just here hoping to get my best friend back, I feel like I haven't seen her since before the war started.”
Her chin lifted and she took a few steps back, her watery gaze never leaving his face. Harry looked tired, maybe even weary. She’d heard of the new baby. She was even a little offended Flemmings had been invited to the shower, and all she had received was a Christmas card via George Weasely. He and Percy were the only two Weaselys that hadn't iced her out over the years. It was quite clear. If she wasn't dating Ron, and she and Harry weren’t on good terms, she wasn't family.
It hurt to be so thoroughly washed away at first. Thankfully she found a new family through her mother-in-law. It wasn't perfect, she still missed her boys. However, she didn't feel it so much, now that she had Theo and Pansy. The two of them were gems, valued for how they stuck by her, and beautiful in the love they showed to her. They all shared a bond, all three of them missing something or someone.
Hermione missed a lot of people. First, it was her parents. Next, it was Draco, and then came Harry and Ron. She glanced over Harry’s shoulder, Ron looked wistful…hopeful even. Her eyes drifted over to Flemmings, he looked…well that was new. He looked mildly disgusted. It was like he was doing his utmost best to hold back bile. Biting his tongue even.
Hermione quickly brought her eyes back to Harry, she would have to save her assessment of Flemmings for later. Again she gave Harry a look over. His jaw clenched, his brow flat and his neck looked strained. He looked just as he did while they were growing up.
She held back the giggle that wanted to roll out and cleared her throat. This was no time to get nostalgic. As much as she would like to give them the whole story, it wouldn't be possible. At least not without the permission of one Mr.Malfoy.
“You’ll do it because I fucking said so Granger!” She physically cringed at the memory. Shaking her head she sighed dropping her shoulders. Gently she spoke “Harry, people change, and that doesn’t give you,” She gave Robards and Kingsley a glance. “Any of you a right to call me in for questioning. Now if you’d excuse me, I’m going home…to my husband” She grabbed her bag and started to walk over to the floo. She felt a grasp on her wrist and refused to look back. “The Malfoy solicitor will be in touch this evening, I’d suggest you let go now.”
“Hermione, Please.” Harry's voice warbled as he pleaded.
Swallowing hard, she mustered the courage of a Gryffindor, and the venom of a Slytherin. Sharply she turned to face him, she glanced down at his hand and in perfect Malfoy fashion, raised a brow and sneered. “Remove your hand or lose it, Potter.”
Harry snatched his hand back as if he’d been burned. She could hear Ron sputter behind him. Harry’s face fell and quickly he looked over to Kingsley. Who shook his head in silence. There wasn't much they could do to keep her there, nor could they illegally perform any magic on her.
After a beat, she turned away and floo’d back home.