Chapter 9
Flashback - 'Future'
April 15th, 1998
It had been three weeks since Draco abandoned his duties as a Death Eater. He wondered if Rowle had crawled his way back to the Death Eaters to incoherently try and inform them of Draco’s betrayal. He wondered how he would do it… would he write it down? Or would he offer Voldemort access to his memories? Regardless, Draco didn’t quite care.
The only thing he didn’t wonder about was Tiberius Nott. Draco received a letter from Theo the next day. He was nervous at first to open it, he worried that perhaps he had gone too far. He was relieved when the first words he read were thank fucking merlin. The letter went on for another two pages, where Theo sappily over-explained his love for Draco and gratefulness for their friendship. I love you, you crazy psychopathic son of a bitch (no offence to Narcissa) was the final sentence in his note.
There was a weight that had been lifted from Draco’s shoulders. His friend was safe, he was free from the ruling of Voldemort and he was with Hermione.
Draco never thought he’d be so fond of mornings, but waking up each day to see her snuggled up beside him made him fall in love with rising before the sun. Most days he just laid there, lightly brushing his fingers through her curls as the golden tint from the sun would sneak its way through the curtains and cast a gentle glow on her skin.
He loved the way she’d make small soft groans in her sleep as she shifted and repositioned herself closer to him. If he could choose a way to live the rest of his life, it would be just like that. In bed with Hermione, her curls tickling his chin, her leg intertwined with his and her arm across his torso as her hand gripped onto his side. He would make a million sacrifices if it meant he could wake up every day to her.
“Good morning,” she yawned as she rubbed her eyes and forced them open to look up at Draco.
“Good morning,” he smiled down at her as he pushed the curls out of her face and tucked them behind her ear.
“How did you sleep?”
“Fine, you?”
“Not bad, it’s nice to sleep in a normal bed again. I say,” she said as she curled herself into him, her head resting on his chest. “that we stay in bed all day.”
Draco let out a soft chuckle as he kissed the top of her head. “We can do whatever you’d like, Granger.”
“I like that,” she hummed against his skin.
“Like what?”
“When you call me Granger.”
“Really?” he asked. He figured she’d prefer him calling her Hermione. He hadn’t consciously meant to keep referring to her by last name, he had just done so for so long that it came naturally. As if she could read his mind, Hermione repositioned herself so that she was facing him again.
“Everyone calls me Hermione,” she stated.
“Well, it is your name,” he teased.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “But only you call me Granger and I like that.”
“So you’d prefer that I call you Granger?”
Hermione nodded. “Except for when you’re professing your love to me, perhaps then you could use my first name.” The mention of the word love caused Draco’s breath to hitch and as much as he hoped she hadn’t, Hermione noticed. “I’m not implying that you need to do such a thing any time soon or that you ever will,” she explained. “It was just… a silly example.”
It wasn’t that Draco didn’t love Hermione that caused the specific reaction to the word. He was almost certain that he did love her, but at the same time, he wasn’t even sure what actual love was. He had never witnessed true and unconditional love before. None of his friends had ever been in a relationship that lasted longer than a few weeks and as much as Astoria loved to throw the word around when they were together, he knew she didn’t love him. How could she? She didn’t know him, not the real him.
But Hermione. Hermione knew Draco. She knew him better than most people. Except for his mother, who had a scary way of knowing even the things he didn’t want her to. But she was his mother, so she didn’t count.
No. Hermione was the only person who saw him for who he truly was. She was the first person he ever felt comfortable enough around to lower all of his walls. She was the person he would do anything for.
He had gone against Voldemort and his family, and it was all for her. When Hermione asked him to leave her side to get her friends out of the cellar, he did. And all of the times that she’d ask for him to get her a certain item, he did. All of the moments that he had glossed over and given no thought to. It all finally came together and he realised that Hermione had owned his heart for far longer than he could fathom.
So when the word love fell from her lips, it hit him like a stupefy to the chest because it was so casual to her – the idea of him loving her. She was okay with it. And he knew that it shouldn’t, but it shocked him.
Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her damn age, was okay with Draco Malfoy, the former death eater, loving her.
He didn’t care that he still wasn’t sure what love actually was, he wanted to tell her that he did. He wanted to say it over and over until she grew nauseated by it. He wanted to climb to the highest tower and shout for everyone to hear that he loved Hermione Granger.
But before he could, there was a light knock on their door.
“Come in!” Hermione called out.
“Er–I’d really rather not,” Harry’s muffled voice said.
“Oh please, Harry, we’re both decent,” she replied.
“Yeah, I’d still rather not. I’m still scarred from last week when I walked in and Malfoy had you bent over the–”
“We get it!” Hermione interjected as she covered her face with her hands to hide the blush that shot up to her cheeks.
“Was there something that you needed, Potter?” Draco asked while Hermione continued to bury her face in embarrassment.
“Yes, right. There are a few people here who have requested your presence, if the two of you can be bothered to put on some clothes and join us for once that is.”
Draco looked over at Hermione and said, “I mean seriously Granger, do you hear the words that come out of his mouth? It’s like he’s begging me to punch him.”
“Hey! I heard that!” Harry shouted from behind the door.
“You were supposed to!” Draco shouted back.
“Okay, okay,” Hermione said as she sat up. “We’ll be down in five,” she informed Harry.
“Brilliant, I’ll let them know.”
Draco watched as Hermione crawled out of bed and slipped into her jeans. “I thought you said you wanted to stay in bed all day.”
“That I did, but we have guests who have specifically asked for us. It would be rude to not go downstairs. Now, come on,” she said as she held her hands out to help him up.
Grabbing her hands, Draco gently yanked her forward, causing her to fall onto him. Flipping her over so that her body was now pinned underneath his, Draco began kissing down the side of her neck.
“I promise I’d make it worth your while if you threw away your politeness just this once and stayed in here with me,” he muttered as he firmly pressed his fingers into her hips.
“I… Draco…” she panted as an overwhelming amount of pleasure surged through her.
“Just say yes, Granger,” he whispered as he gently tugged at the skin of her shoulder with his teeth.
“Y–”
“I swear if you two are shagging in there!” Harry ridiculed from the hall.
“I’m going to kill him,” Draco warned.
Hermione let out a soft giggle and gave him a quick peck before shimmying out from underneath. “Let’s go,” she said as she encouragingly patted his shoulder.
Draco rolled over onto his back and ran his hands down the length of his face as he let out a deep exhale.
Fully dressed, Hermione made her way over to the door and looked back at Draco. “Aren’t you coming?” she asked.
“Just give me a minute, Granger,” he requested. “I don’t think our guests want to see the full effect you have on me.”
Hermione’s eyes travelled down his body and immediately stopped once she spotted what he was referring to. “Oh!” she gasped. “Right, erm, just come down when you feel up to it. Not up to it! I mean–er–”
“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” he laughed.
“Okay, right. I’ll uh, see you down there.”
~~~
“Well look who finally discovered what pants are,” Harry mocked as Draco joined them downstairs.
As he passed by him, Draco smacked Harry in the stomach with the back of his hand.
“Ow! That hurt!”
“It was supposed to,” Draco replied as he walked over to Hermione.
“Hi,” she smiled up at him.
“Hey,” he smiled back as he leaned down and kissed her cheek.
“What, no kiss on the cheek for your cousin that just pushed a whole human out of her?” Tonks scoffed.
Admittedly, Draco didn’t even notice Tonks or Remus on the other couch.
“Hi Dora,” he replied as he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Remus,” he nodded. “So, you finally did it huh? What name did you settle on? Don’t tell me, it’s Draco, isn’t it?”
“Even if you gave me a million galleons, I still wouldn’t have named him after you,” Tonks said.
“What about two million?” Draco questioned as he lifted a curious brow.
Tonks’ head cocked as she thought the offer over. “Okay, maybe for that much.”
“Wait, do you have two million galleons?” Hermione directed at Draco.
“On me currently or at Gringotts? Because if it’s the first, then no.”
“And if it were the second?”
“Let’s just say, if you married him and he mysteriously died, you’d be set for several lifetimes,” Tonks stated.
“Merlin,” Hermione gasped as she slumped back into the couch. “I didn’t realise you had that much. I mean, I knew you were well off, but Merlin.”
“If we’re done discussing the amount of money Draco has to his name,” Remus said. “I believe we had something to talk to him about,” he directed at Tonks.
“Oh, right! Hermione, would you mind holding Teddy for me?” Before Hermione could voice any objections, Tonks promptly placed her son in her arms.
“You named him Teddy?” Draco asked as he bit the inside of his cheek to hide his laughter.
“Piss off,” she said as she slapped his chest, following him to the bedroom at the end of the hall. “He’s named after my dad.”
Once inside the room, Remus closed the door behind them. Draco looked between Remus and Tonks, impatiently waiting for one of them to speak instead of just staring at him.
“Well? Did we just come in here to awkwardly stand around or did you have something that you wanted to discuss?” Draco asked.
“We want you to be Teddy’s godfather,” Tonks blurted out excitedly.
“What?!” Draco’s brows pulled together. He was certain he heard her wrong. His hearing must be going because there was no way that she wanted him to be–
“We want you to be Teddy’s godfather,” she reiterated.
Draco’s eyes shifted over to Remus who just smiled back at him, shrugged and nodded his head.
“You’re joking, right?” he asked.
“Why would I joke about something like this?”
“I don’t know! Because… well because why would you pick me to be his godfather?” Draco began pacing back and forth as he ran his hand through his hair. “I mean, what if something happens to both of you? Then I’m the one who has to raise him? What do I know about raising someone? What do I know about being a father?!”
“Remus, will you give us a moment?” Tonks requested.
“Sure,” he said understandingly before leaving the room.
“Draco,” Tonks said but he ignored her and continued spiralling. “Draco look at me!”
Finally, Draco stopped his pacing and looked over at Tonks who was now sitting on the twin-sized bed and patted the spot next to her, signalling for him to join.
Once Draco took the seat beside her, Tonks’ eyes softened and she said, “Do you remember that time during Christmas when my parents were fighting?”
Draco nodded. “Of course, you wouldn’t stop crying because you were so scared.”
“And do you remember what you said to me?”
“I said that my parents fought a lot,” he answered.
“And after that, you said that there was no reason to be scared because–”
“Because I was there and I would never let anything happen to you,” Draco finished.
“I’m seven years older than you, Draco. I was somewhere in my early teens and you were just a young boy but you still took care of me. That is one of the many reasons why I want you to be my son’s godfather.”
Draco shook his head and looked down at his hands. “I still don’t know, Dora. What if I end up being like my father?”
“You are nothing like Lucius,” she stated. “You’re a good person, Draco, and you’re not as damaged as he likes to make you believe. You have a good heart and would do anything for those you care about.”
“You know that he cleared your family’s records, right?”
Tonks slowly nodded. “It was very kind of Lucius to do that. I’m not saying that he’s the most malicious person I’ve ever met, he has some moments of redemption, but you’re still a far better man than he will ever be.”
Draco and Tonks comfortably sat in silence for a few minutes. Draco still couldn’t see why she would choose him out of all people, he was sure Remus would advocate for someone like Harry. Someone who people didn’t need to try so hard to find the good in. But she was right about one thing – Draco would do anything for the people he cared about and she was one of them.
“Okay,” Draco said.
“Okay?”
“Yes, okay. I’ll accept being Teddy’s godfather.”
Tonks excitedly clapped her hands together before flinging her arms around Draco’s neck and pulling him into a hug.
“Just so you know, if you die, I’m legally changing his name to Draco.”
“I will quite literally rise from the dead to kill you if you do,” Tonks threatened, which caused him to laugh.
~~~
Rejoining everyone in the living room, Draco froze in place and felt something tug at his heart as he looked at Hermione with Teddy. She was a natural as she lightly rocked him and the look on her face made him want to drop to his knees right then and there.
There was a spark in her eye that he hadn’t seen before. He wasn’t saying that a woman’s only purpose in the world was to be a mother, but it was certainly one of Hermione’s. Draco couldn’t help but stare at her and imagine what life would be like for them five, ten, or even twenty years from now. He pictured their entire life together. What their kids would look like and how gentle and patient she would be with them.
Teddy’s eyes slowly peeled open and landed on Draco, who was still preoccupied with envisioning his future with Hermione.
“I think someone wants you,” Hermione said.
“What?” Draco asked as he refocused his attention.
Hermione stood up and walked over to Draco. As she got closer, he noticed that Teddy’s small arms were reaching out for him. He also noticed that Hermione was preparing to hand the child to him.
“Granger, I really don’t think that I–”
“Oh hush and hold your arms out.”
Reluctantly, Draco copied the formation in which Hermione’s arms were and prepared himself for the transfer. Once he felt the full weight of Teddy in his arms, every muscle in his body tensed – afraid that if he moved, he’d break him somehow.
“You can relax, you know?” Hermione giggled. “He’s not going to fall apart.”
“You don’t know that,” Draco replied. “How’s his head? Am I supporting it well enough?”
“You’re doing great, Draco,” she reassured him.
Teddy let out a small yawn as he stretched out his arms and legs before curling back up into Draco’s arms. Something about this action caused Draco to relax and become more comfortable.
“Oh, this isn’t so bad,” he said as he gently began rocking him. “What’s up, little guy? You know, Teddy is a cool name and all but you know what’s even cooler? Draco. Do you like that name?” A small smile appeared on Teddy’s face. “I thought you would,” Draco grinned. “I’ll work on getting it changed.”
“You’re not changing his name,” Tonks groaned.
“But the kid likes it,” he argued. “Isn’t that right little Draco? Yeah, that’s right,” he cooed. “Don’t worry, your mum just has a shite attitude and can’t appreciate a good name when she hears one.”
Hermione couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of baby fever as she watched Draco with Teddy. She didn’t want children soon by any means, they were still just kids themselves, but still, seeing how he so naturally tapped into his paternal instincts and channelled his soft and gentle side caused something to rise within her.
He would be an excellent father, she decided. He would love and care for his kids so deeply. She had only hoped that perhaps one day in the future she’d be lucky enough to witness it.
~~~
Once Tonks, Remus and Teddy departed after dinner, Hermione and Draco called it a night and retreated to their room. As Hermione climbed into bed and curled up into Draco’s arms, she couldn’t help but notice the look on his face. Something was on his mind.
“What is it?” she asked.
Draco let out a deep breath before saying, “You once asked me what I saw when I envisioned my future.”
Hermione propped herself up on her elbows to look at him. “I remember. You said that you didn’t know.”
“And I didn’t, but I do now. It’s you. You are my future, Hermione.”
“You used my first name,” she noted, her head tilting slightly as her lips pulled into a soft smile.
“You said to when professing my love for you, didn’t you?”
“I–I did,” she stuttered as her heart began to race.
“Well that’s what I’m doing, so I’m simply just following your orders,” he playfully grinned.
“So this means that you…. you know?”
“Yes,” he replied. “I love you, Hermione. The moment our lips first touched I knew that I would spend the rest of my life loving you and that’s precisely what I want to do. Though it’s worth mentioning that I could spend the rest of my life with you and it still wouldn’t be enough.”
“Are you–you’re not–”
“Calm down,” he chuckled. “I’m not asking you to marry me.”
“Oh, okay,” she said with a sigh of relief.
“I don’t think I’ll ever want to get married,” he added, which caused her head to shoot up.
“What?! Like, never?”
“Probably not.”
“But, why? Don’t you want to one day be a husband and have a wife?”
“I just don’t see the point in the titles, rings and big ceremonies. And that whole ‘till death do us part’ thing,” he scoffed as he made air quotations with his fingers. “I mean, please, even in death my heart would still only beat for you, Hermione.”
“It would still be nice though, don’t you think?” she asked.
“Is that what you dream of? Having a husband?”
“Not often but it’s crossed my mind.”
“And have I been the one you thought of when it crossed your mind?” he nervously asked, afraid that she’d say no.
“Yes, of course,” Hermione stated. “Draco, all of my life I have prided myself in knowing everything. Of always being certain of what was to come and having a plan for every possible situation. And then came you. And I’m not talking about the slicked-back hair, pompous little bully you. I mean the real you. To be honest, I never really understood the meaning of love. Sure, my parents are in love and it’s very obvious that they are, but still, it was a hard thing to wrap my head around when I hadn’t experienced it for myself. But now, I get it. Because when I’m with you, nothing else matters. When I look at you, I see a life filled with love and happiness. I’ve never felt that way about anyone before. I love you, Draco.”
I love you.
The second those words fell from Hermione’s lips, it felt like time had stopped as an indescribable feeling of happiness, warmth and belonging filled Draco’s chest. He had always felt so alone in this world, like he would never find someone who truly understood him, damning him to a life of solitude. But here he was, listening as someone told him that they saw a life with him and that they loved him. And the fact that it was Hermione Granger made his head feel like it was about to explode.
Never in a million years would he have thought that this was what life had in store for him. Countless times he had cursed the world for his situation, for the family he was born into. He never understood what he had done so wrong to be sentenced to a life that seemingly had no happy ending. If only he could go back and tell his younger self that it’ll all be worth it. That every punishment, every lesson, every scar, would be worth it, because one day, he’ll be laying in bed with the most magnificent woman he had ever met, and she’d be confessing her love for him.
Present Day
As Draco fiddled with the ring on his left pointer finger, his thumb brushing over the sharp edge of the stone, he found himself thinking back on those last few months of the war. The manor, him leaving the Death Eaters, and those nights at the cottage.
He wondered how Tonks, Remus and Teddy were doing. He hadn’t heard from them in some time. Though, that was partly his fault as he had been focusing all of his energy on Hermione and hadn’t reached out to them.
He hoped they were doing well.
He remembered how he felt when he saw Hermione holding Teddy, how he felt holding Teddy and he vividly remembered how he felt when Hermione told him that she loved him for the first time.
In his time of reminiscing his mind wandered to how they stayed up until four in the morning planning their future together and playfully argued over the interior of their house. They had it all planned out, every last detail.
They were going to move far away from London, perhaps even relocate to a new country. They would build a house in a remote area where the only noise they’d hear was that of the waves crashing. They would also purchase a flat in a small neighbourhood so that on the nights that they were feeling more social, they could go out and interact with others.
Draco even gave in and agreed for it to be within a Muggle town.
He liked the idea of separating themselves from the world that caused the both of them so much pain. It would be a fresh start. They could start their life without the judgement of others and could leave behind the mistakes they had made.
And after Hermione had learned about how much money Draco had, she took it upon herself to decide for them that it would be used to start a nonprofit of some sort. She went on for hours listing off the several causes they could advocate for. Draco didn’t care about which one they’d end up going with, as long as she was happy.
It all seemed so much simpler back then, even though they were in the middle of a war. Draco considered that it was easier then because they needed something to look forward to, to have hope for. Whereas now, the urgency wasn’t there. There was no longer that need to escape the turmoil.
“What is it?” Hermione asked, the familiarity of her question causing the corner of Draco’s mouth to lift into a smile. She always knew how to tell when something was on his mind.
“Nothing,” he said. “I was just thinking about us.”
“Well now you must tell me,” she implored as she adjusted her position so that her legs were crisscrossed and her hands folded in her lap as she smiled and eagerly waited for him to speak.
“I was just thinking back on our days at the cottage.”
“Bill and Fleur’s?”
Draco nodded. “Specifically, the night when we first met Teddy.”
“Oh, you mean the night you confessed your undying love for me?” she teased.
“Yeah,” he chuckled as he rolled his eyes. “That night.”
“What about it?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Everything and nothing at the same time. Mostly just how we felt then and the excitement that we had for our plans for after the war.”
“We were going to have a cottage of our own,” she smiled as she reminisced on the memory. “We were going to build a garden in the backyard and learn how to grow our own vegetables.”
“Well, you were going to learn how to grow your own vegetables. I was just going to offer my support from the sidelines,” he playfully smirked.
“Please, we both know that I would’ve had you on your hands and knees planting seeds by the third day.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he laughed. “I’d do anything that you asked of me, Granger.”
Hermione couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as his words triggered a memory.
“What?” Draco asked.
“Nothing,” she giggled. “It’s just, do you remember that time at the cottage, with Ginny and Luna?”
“With Ginny and Luna…” he trailed off when suddenly, embarrassment washed over him as he recalled the memory that he had tried so hard to suppress. Covering his face with his hands and sinking back into the sofa, Draco let out a groan, “Please don’t remind me.”
“Why not? I thought you looked nice,” Hermione teased.
Flashback - 'Hope'
April 23, 1998
“Hermione!” Ginny shouted as she sprinted into the cottage.
Setting her book down and getting up from the couch, Hermione grabbed Ginny by the shoulders to stop her.
“What is it Gin?” Hermione asked, her tone laced with concern as she took in Ginny’s frantic state.
Before she could answer, Draco’s voice roared through the house. “Weasley, I swear to Merlin, I’m going to kill you!”
“What did I do?” Ron asked as he stepped out of his room.
“Not you,” Draco replied before turning his death glare over to the redhead taking shelter behind Hermione’s curls. “You little witch,” he seethed. “I know you did it on purpose!”
“Did not!” Ginny argued. “It was an accident!”
“Oh yeah? Then you falling off of a cliff will be an accident too.”
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?!” Hermione requested.
Ginny and Draco began to speak at the same time, their voices fighting for dominance and providing Hermione with no answers and one nasty headache.
“One at a time!” Hermione commanded.
“Ginny and I cut Draco’s hair,” Luna stated, her voice light and dreamy - a stark contrast to those of Draco and Ginny. “I think he looks quite handsome,” she admitted as she absent-mindedly looked around the cottage. “But I can see where he might be upset.”
“You let them cut your hair?” Hermione asked Draco.
“You told me to,” he replied.
“I was half-joking when I suggested that.”
“Well shit, Granger, how was I supposed to know that?”
Hermione let out a sympathetic sigh and reached for the baseball cap covering his hair. Draco flinched at the action as if it had caused him physical pain. “Don’t be a baby,” she mocked. Reaching for it again, Hermione removed the cap to reveal the damage.
“It’s dreadful, I look like someone who sleeps on the street,” Draco pouted as he folded his arms across his chest.
It wasn’t terrible but it definitely wasn’t him. His hair was extremely short on the sides and long and choppy on top. Hermione thought that if someone who had actual training in the craft had been the one to have cut his hair, it would look rather nice. But it was Ginny and Luna who had done it, and it was obvious.
“You’re not saying anything,” Draco said. “That’s never a good sign.”
“It could be worse,” Hermione shrugged as she ran her fingers through the longer section.
“See! It could’ve been worse,” Ginny stated.
“I’m going to shave your head in the middle of the night,” Draco threatened.
As Luna gently rocked back and forth on her heels and watched as Draco and Ginny bickered, Hermione massaged her temples. Nearly every day Ginny and Draco found a reason to fight. Hermione regretted stating that she had hoped they would become friends because, over the last week, she discovered that a friendship between them entailed childish disputes.
The morning after Remus and Tonks visited, Ginny and Dean arrived at the cottage. Someone outside of the Order had been helping the remaining members of Dumbledore’s army sneak in and out of Hogwarts. While Harry believed Ginny’s sole purpose for joining them was because she missed him, the reality was that she was there to help.
Breaking into Hogwarts had become a frequent topic of discussion. Figuring out the logistics was where Ginny and Dean came in. Alongside Neville, they were the ones leading the student-based resistance. If anyone knew the best way to get inside undetected, it was them.
The relaxing evenings they were granted the first few weeks had turned into late nights and early mornings as they prepared for the inevitable battle that was to come. While Draco would gather around the dining room table with the others, Hermione would find herself in the living room as she brewed various potions and constructed different weapons. From small vials containing a liquid that would cause the ground beneath an enemy's feet to cover in a cement-like paste, to small baubles that, when thrown, would cause hundreds of metal shards to shoot out.
Hermione knew that if they wanted a chance at beating Voldemort and the Death Eaters, they couldn’t rely on just their wands – they needed to play dirty. She had created hundreds of different items over the past two weeks, all capable of maiming and or possibly killing someone. Harry was frightened by her ability to create such, Ron was appalled and Draco was inexplicably proud.
But none of her work or anyone else’s mattered if they didn’t destroy the remaining Horcruxes. Until they accomplished that, it would be impossible to kill Voldemort once and for all.
As much as they wished they did, they had no clue where to even begin looking. What they did know was that Voldemort was most likely in possession of the elder wand. Hermione was originally against the idea of disturbing Mr Ollivander. Months of rationed meals had weakened his already frail state. Most days he struggled to even get out of bed. But Hermione realised that if anyone could truly tell them what they were up against, it was him.
~~~
“Thank you for meeting with us,” Hermione smiled as she sat down in the old rocking chair.
Mr Ollivander dipped his head slightly in response, finding it far too exhausting to channel the energy necessary to smile back.
“We were hoping you might be able to share some of your knowledge on wands,” she explained.
Mr Ollivander’s gaze shifted up to Harry and Ron, who were standing behind Hermione and then slowly, he looked over at Draco, who was leaning against the closed door.
“Sir,” Harry began. “You’ve always spoken about wands as if they have feelings and can think.”
“The wand chooses the wizard, Mr Potter,” he replied. “That much has always been clear to those of us who have studied wand law.”
“And what do you know about the Deathly Hallows?”
“It is rumoured there are three. The elder wand, the cloak of invisibility, to hide you from your enemies, and the resurrection stone, to bring back loved ones from the dead. Together they make one the master of death. But few truly believe that such objects exist.”
“Do you?” Hermione questioned. “Do you believe that they exist, sir?”
Mr Ollivander shook his head and rubbed his trembling hands together. “I see no reason to put stock into an old wives tale,” he replied.
“He’s lying,” Draco stated as he approached the group. “He’s the one who told the Dark Lord about the elder wand. Isn’t that right, Garrick?”
“Well I–”
“Your physical condition and mental cognizance deteriorate with each passing second. Let’s not waste the limited time you have left and get straight to the point,” Draco urged. “Why was the Dark Lord so adamant about finding it?”
“The elder wand will defeat any witch or wizard in a duel, no matter who is on the other end. If the Dark Lord manages to come into possession of it,” Mr Ollivander nervously gulped. “I’m afraid it would be unwise to go against him.”
“He is in possession of it,” Draco informed him. “He found Grindelwald and got him to tell him where it was.”
“Then I believe all there’s left to do is pray that its allegiance does not lie with him.”
“What do you mean by that?” Hermione asked. “Would it be possible for the elder wand to reject him?”
“It’s possible,” he replied. “Just like any other wand, it will remain loyal to its original owner, unless someone else wins it from them.”
“You mean in a duel?” Ron questioned.
“That, or even with a simple disarming spell.”
“Do you happen to know who the last owner of the elder wand was?” Harry asked.
Mr Ollivander slowly nodded. “The late Albus Dumbledore.”
Draco felt his stomach drop. The collection of Hermione, Harry and Ron’s voices all bleeding together and turning into nothing but muffled noise in his ears.
Turning on his heels, he rushed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
~~~
With his eyes closed, Draco focused on the world around him as he attempted to collect his thoughts. The deep and rolling bass of the waves crashing against the jagged rocks echoed in his chest and the salty tang of the sea that laced the air caused his nose to burn. The distant sound of birds chirping and the high-pitched screech of the wind whipping through the trees brought an odd sense of solace. It perfectly matched how he was feeling – free but tortured.
His mind felt like a battlefield, torn between what was necessary and what he desired, each vying for dominance.
Draco thought that he had already done the hard part. He had turned his back on his family and Voldemort and freed himself from the shackles that were placed upon his wrists the day that he received the dark mark. He served his time and suffered in the process and now he was supposed to take a backseat to it all, to just exist, instead of being crushed by the weight of responsibility.
The future he had once seen so clearly with Hermione became nothing more than a hazy blur as he explored his different options because no matter which one he chose, he knew it wouldn’t end well for him. He could take every precaution known to man and it still wouldn’t make a difference.
He didn’t want to give up his happiness. He didn’t want to give up his life with Hermione. He had just regained control over his future and it was now being ripped away from him all because of a stupid fucking disarming spell he cast in the astronomy tower a little less than a year ago.
Draco didn’t want to tell her, he didn’t want to see the look on her face or hear the hope in her voice as she told him that they’d figure something out because he knew that he’d believe it. He’d believe her. After conditioning himself to not be naive enough to have hope for something, he knew that Hermione had the power to force him to. She already had.
He had hope for them.
He had hope that they’d see the other side of the war and that they’d follow through with all of the ridiculous plans they made. He had hope that, after a few years of nagging, she’d change his stance on marriage. He had hope that they would spend their Sunday mornings having tea with his mother, who he was certain would also fall in love with Hermione.
He had more hope than he thought one man was capable of having and he couldn’t bear the idea of adding another to his already lengthy list. Because then, he would have one extra thing to be disappointed about when it didn’t happen.
Draco prayed that the footsteps closing in on him weren’t Hermione’s, but he knew that they were. He watched her approach out of the corner of his eye, a thin blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders.
Over the last few months, Hermione began to lower her walls, whether she was aware of it or not. The emotions and thoughts that she had once secured behind occlumency were out in the open for him to access. So, as they both watched as the birds flew further and further away, slowly reducing to nothing more than a speck in the sky, Draco discovered that Hermione was well aware of his situation.
“He’ll kill me once he figures it out,” Draco choked out, still refusing to look at her.
“I know,” she sighed.
“I have to tell them, don’t I?”
Intertwining her fingers with his, Hermione lightly squeezed his hand and said, “We can do it together.”
Taking a deep breath, Draco turned his head and met her tear-filled gaze.
“I love you, Hermione.”
“I love you too, Draco.”