Turning the Page

In Charms class fifth year, Professor Flitwick had taught them about self levitation. It took concentration, practice, and a fair bit of magic.

Draco was floating on air without any of that. Last night had been incredible and he knew for a fact that Granger felt the same way.

Before he’d gotten up and left for his flat to get ready for work, they had lain together in her bed. Hermione had spent a few long minutes tracing the ink on his chest, scheduling their next overnight like the swot she is.

Now, he sits at his spot in the bookstore, pretending to read The Wind-Up Bird Chronicles. 

His mind is completely unfocused. He just keeps reliving the feel of her skin against his, the soft curves of her body. Hearing the sighs that had sent him over the edge. There had been a moment on that couch when he had wondered if he’d died in Azkaban. If this was all some afterlife.

His own consciousness would never have imagined something as magnificent as this. That was how he knew it was real.

Staring at the words in front of him, he tries to reach the end of the page, but it doesn’t work.

The book is great and he’d been making headway yesterday, but now he’s not sure he could manage anything more than sitting and committing every second to memory.

Which isn’t good because Laura had left him a task.

The last Saturday in April is Independent Bookstore Day and Laura has asked him to put together a promotion to bring in more customers.

He needs to come up with something by the end of the week so they have a couple weeks to advertise and drum up interest. 

Draco doesn’t see why they need to bring in any more business. He quite likes how quiet the store is day to day. 

Although, he had enjoyed the book signing. And he enjoyed the children’s hour they do every Sunday. So perhaps he would enjoy a more steady stream of visitors. Sitting up and pushing away the gorgeous mental image of Hermione’s face as she orgasmed, Draco searches for a notepad.

They could do a discount for the day. Draco would loathe the maths that that would require.

Perhaps they could serve some sort of food… No, Draco, that's a terrible idea .

It’s his mother’s voice in his head.

He isn’t surprised. He can picture her sitting across from him, coming up with much better ideas.

Narcissa Malfoy had certainly earned her title as the best hostess in the wizarding world. 

He jots down a few other ideas, running each one by his mother’s memory.

The crack of apparition nearly knocks him out of his seat, not expecting it.

“So I heard you and Granger did the deed,” Pansy says from where she’s just appeared in the middle of the muggle shop.

“There could have been people in here!” He exclaims, more jealous that she can do magic than upset at the prospect of muggle’s seeing her appear out of thin air.

“Not likely,” she says, gesturing around the quiet store. 

It is a rare warm day in April, so Draco doesn’t worry too much about the lack of patrons.

“And if there were, I would have obliviated them before they had a chance to ask any questions. Now, back to you and Hermione shagging,” Pansy leans against the counter, chin resting on her hand and a smarmy smile on her face.

“That is absolutely none of your business,” he says, clearing his throat. 

How had Pansy found out?

Had Hermione told her?

What did she say about it?

“It is if you expect me to babysit Levi every time the two of you want to have it off.”

A good point. 

“Don’t you want to know what she said?” Pansy asks, knowing full well he does.

Draco shakes his head, refusing to allow his friend to fleece him like this.

“Fine,” Pansy stands up. “Then I won’t tell you what she said about… anything.”

She gives a long hard look at him, raking her eyes over his body and lingering over his crotch.

Draco feels like his personal space is being invaded even with her across the counter from him.

“My eyes are up here, Pans,” he says instead of asking.

He doesn’t really care what Hermione told Pansy. They’d had an amazing night.

“You are still absolutely no fun. Whatever, when I dropped Levi off this morning she was still on top of the world, but she wouldn’t share any details.”

Draco smirks.

“I thought you would be more manipulatable,” she says, shrugging and pulling her cell phone from her purse. “Anyways, I’ve got to jet. Have to pick up some fabrics down the street and figured I’d pop in and see where I could get with you. I’m having another get together at my place this weekend. Maybe you could lower yourself to join this time?”

He shrugs, like he had the last couple of times she had invited him.

Things are going really well in his life and he doesn’t want to risk any of it by spending a night with their old friend group.

“Blaise is coming in for it,” she adds.

It’s a good way to entice him.

“I’ll think about it, Pans.”

She is out the door a minute later.

Draco gets back to work on his brainstorming, relieved when a couple of customers trickle in less than ten minutes later.

The store is doing fine.

Even still, Draco wants to come up with something good for Independent Bookstore Day.

When three o’clock rolls around, Draco keeps half an eye on the door that separates the two parts of the store, waiting for Hermione to come through.

But she doesn’t. 

So he waits, watching the long hand on the clock move around the clock face at an annoyingly slow pace.

Draco is just about to stop waiting and pop over himself when the door finally moves.

He stands up, smiling as he catches her curls as she enters.

Except something is wrong because her face is streaked with tears and she looks angry.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, checking her for injuries.

She’s holding a piece of paper but he can’t really see what it is.

“What did you tell my son?” She demands, raising her other arm.

He hadn’t noticed at first, but she is holding her wand.

“Hermione, what’s going on?” He is co confused. He hadn’t been alone with Levi for weeks. Since he’d watched him at his flat.

Draco feels panic rise in himself as she scoffs and pushes the paper into his chest.

“Look what you did!” She shouts, tears spilling over.

He grabs it and straightens it out, finally understanding why she is so upset.

Levi had drawn the Dark Mark. Or at least, a crude version of one.

It’s black with thick lines and looks a lot like his tattoo. 

Draco should have been more careful. He shouldn’t have let anyone see it.

“Hermione, I am so-”

“I don’t want you anywhere near my son, Draco Malfoy. Or me. I should have known something like this would happen,” she interrupts him, swiping at her face and glaring at him.

No, glaring at his neck.

His Azkaban brand.

Draco looks at the drawing and wants to defend himself. To promise he hadn’t said anything about anything to Levi.

But she should have known something like this would happen .

Because once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater.

“Okay,” he says, his heart cracking. It’s less a word and more of a sound of acquiescence. Whatever she wants from him, she gets. Even this.

She is gone from the muggle side of the store before he can really process anything that happened in the last five minutes.

She has every right to be upset.

The Dark Mark is a symbol of an entire society that tried to kill her. That would have tried to kill her son.

Of course she wouldn’t want Levi to know anything about the hate that the wizarding world was capable of.

He stands there for an embarrassingly long time just holding the paper and staring at the door.

When the clock chimes at the hour, he crumples the drawing up and throws it in the bin, wishing he could cast a quick Incendio and be rid of it forever.

He locks up and leaves the bookstore, barely paying attention to the streets around him.

There are more people on the streets than when he usually leaves. Schools letting out and people finishing work. 

Normal people going about their lives with no idea the horrors he has committed.

His key misses the lock of his flat twice before he blinks and shoves it, desperate to be alone.

Once he is inside though, he finds his throat dry and his eyes watery.

Levi’s other drawings, of bright flowers and brave dragons, are still papered across his flat.

I don’t want you anywhere near my son.

Draco knows it is selfish but he can’t help but wonder what Laura will do.

Obviously, she’ll be on Hermione’s side. Rightfully so.

Would she let him keep his job?

With just a door between them, would Laura think that they need more separation?

His chest feels so heavy. The same way it had scrubbing at the floor of the Ministry Atrium. 

Like he is nothing. Like he deserves nothing.

Don’t you think you’ve punished yourself enough?

He thought that Turning the Page was his second chance. An opportunity to do the right thing. 

A Death Eater working with the heroine of the wizarding world. A fucking tragedy if you ask me.

Wasn’t that what Auror Brently had said?

Draco doesn’t eat dinner.

He strips down out of his clothes and takes a shower. This time, when the water goes cold, he stays under the stream, crying more than he had in months.

The chatter in his teeth adds to his migraine but after he turns the water off, he slides to the ground.

Closing his eyes, he finds himself back in his cell. 

Back where he belongs.