Turning the Page

Sleep is hell.

He has nightmares that keep him tossing and turning and his head is still throbbing by the time the sun streams in through his window.

When he wakes up, he has a plan.

To talk to Hermione.

Surely she could understand that he hadn’t wanted Levi to see the Dark Mark. Surely she could believe that he would never hurt either of them if he could help it. 

He showers, and gets dressed, being careful not to wear any of Mason’s old clothes.

After he tells his reflection the plan once more, he eats breakfast. Just toast with some jam, but it is better than nothing.

On his walk to work, he prays that he can fix things.

But of course, he’s never known quite who he was praying to. So they never seemed to hear him.

“Draco,” Laura greets him with a solemn look on her face. She is wringing her hands and he is barely through the door.

The bell poised to ring above his head, waiting for him to decide.

In or out.

Stepping forwards, he listens to the chime and inhales.

“Laura, please let me explain.” And then he stops.

Because she is probably going to say no. Tell him that he can’t work there anymore. 

He’s staring at her feet, ashamed.

Her tan trainers step towards him and he looks up.

“Are you alright?” She asks.

It’s enough to make tears well behind his eyes, though he swallows to make them go away.

He nods and she steps towards him again, wrapping her arms around his waist and rubbing in firm comforting circles.

Draco wasn’t expecting this.

Doesn’t deserve this.

But he can’t push her away or make her let go. He hadn’t realised how touch starved he is.

She’s small and yet she makes him feel like he is being enveloped.

When she loosens her grip, she doesn’t step back more than a couple of inches.

Just far enough to look up at him and offer a sad smile.

“Come on, let’s have a cuppa,” she takes his hand in hers.

He realises that he hasn’t said a word, but he isn’t sure what to say.

Everything he’d prepared had been for Hermione.

Which was silly, as Laura was usually in first on Wednesdays.

They settle into two chairs in the mystery section and Draco watches as she uses some rather impressive household magic to serve them each a nice cup of earl grey.

“Good for your heart,” Laura comments, lifting her cup to her lips.

He just mirrors her movements.

After he’s about half way through the cup, he lowers it and starts explaining.

“Levi was curious about my tattoos. These ones,” he points to his right arm. “I saw him looking and got up straight away, to cover my other arm. But, after that, I wasn’t as careful. I guess he saw it and thought he could draw it. I didn’t tell him to draw it. I didn’t even know he had noticed it. I- I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Least of all to upset Hermione.”

Laura leans forwards and rests a hand on Draco’s knee. It was bouncing, but he hadn’t noticed.

He swallows around the lump in his throat.

The bookstore should be open. And yet his boss is letting him just sit and explain himself.

“Before we met, when you were just a face in a newspaper, I thought you were someone who blamed everyone else for what was wrong in their life. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. It didn’t take me very long to realise that. And it won’t take Hermione long to remember the man you have become.”

She’s so kind.

Draco is almost certain he doesn’t deserve it.

He feels guilty for expecting the worst of her. For thinking that she would fire him.

“Thank you for saying that, Laura.”

She pats his knee.

“Come on, let’s open up.”

Draco is grateful for the help while he mulls over what she had said. Hermione knew Draco. Better than anyone else in his life.

He could understand why she’d been so upset.

Levi is her everything.

She’s been through so much, he couldn’t blame her for being such a fierce protector.

Draco wonders if the night apart had helped her see the situation for what it was.

An unfortunate accident.

“Have you given any more thought to Independent Bookstore Day?” Laura asks once the store is open, the door propped to let in the crisp Spring air.

“I jotted down a couple of ideas yesterday, before…”

“Well let me know if you need any help. I’ll be covering Hermione’s shift today, so I’ll just be a second away.”

Draco looks up from the purchase log book in front of him.

Laura offers a pitying look.

“She just needs a bit of time, dear. A chance to work through her own feelings. I think yesterday was about a lot more than just a child’s drawing.”

It is nice to hear someone else say so.

Draco feels guilty that Laura is being so kind to him.

“Thank you, Laura. For everything.”

Laura leaves him with a reminder that she will be around if he needs anything and he spends the rest of the day asking himself how much time Hermione might need.

Apparently Hermione needs more than four days, because by Saturday Draco hasn’t seen her.

Laura mentioned that she was still working the evening shift next door but that she didn’t seem ready to talk.

Draco didn’t push. He’d enjoyed every moment with Hermione since starting at the bookstore and he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise his chance to fix things.

When she was ready, she’d let him know.

Until then, he just has to focus on not spinning out too badly.

After the first couple of days taking long punishing showers and lying about like a louse, he called Louis and made an appointment for a new tattoo.

He goes after his shift on Saturday.

“Continue with the right arm?” Louis asks when he sees him.

“Finishing it,” Draco says, pulling his shirt over his head and settling into the chair.

“And I thought you were broody last time you were here,” Louis says, settling in beside him and prepping his station.

“It’s just the shoulder left, right?” Draco confirms.

“Yeah, although I’ve been working on the sketches for the piece we talked about and-”

“Just the shoulder.”

The parlour isn’t busy, just another artist cleaning across the room. The smell of the cleaning products is pungent and he hates that it flashes him back to the Ministry.

He comes here to feel something, not cloud his mind with shitty memories.

“Ready?” Louis pulls him out.

Draco breaths in through his mouth, trying to avoid the smell, and exhales.

“Apologies,” he says. “Rough week.”

Louis just nods and sets to work.

It only takes a couple of hours for Louis to finish the sleeve, and by the time he is done Draco is in a much better mood.

They opened the door and the sweet crispness of Spring chased away chemical nightmares.

He and Louis talk sparingly, and Louis sticks to topics that Draco doesn’t mind discussing.

“It looks great. Just stick to your aftercare treatment and it’ll heal up nicely. For how pasty you are, you’ve got amazing skin,” Louis says, wrapping Draco’s new ink.

Draco gives him a sideways stare.

“Hey, that’s a great compliment from a tattoo artist. Don’t make it weird.”

“Thanks. How much do I owe you?”

Draco pays and mentions that he’ll probably call for another appointment soon.

After his appointment he heads home, ready for leftovers from Laura and an early night.

Of course, when does Draco’s life ever go to plan?

He keys into his flat only to find Pansy sitting at his kitchen table, eating his leftovers.

“What the fuck, Pans,” he whines, not in the mood.

“There you are. I’ve been waiting for you for ages.”

He supposes that explains why she is eating his food like she paid for it.

“What are you doing in my flat?”

She looks exasperated and Draco thinks about turning around and leaving his own flat just to avoid whatever dramatic situation she is about to invent.

“You forgot. I’m having a little soiree at my flat tonight. I came to make sure you didn’t dress like a librarian and embarrassed yourself,” she stands up, vanishing the rest of his leftovers.

He glares.

“I didn’t forget.” He had forgotten. “I just never intended on going.”

She glares back. 

“After everything that’s happened this week, you need to be with friends.”

Draco had wondered how things shook out for Pansy.

She and Hermione have gotten really close. She watches Levi for Merlin’s sake.

“You aren’t mad at me?” He asks.

Pansy softens, tilting her head towards him.

“You didn’t try to convert Granger’s precious son into a Death Eater, did you?”

Draco shakes his head.

“Then why would I be mad at you?”

He can think of half a dozen reasons.

Instead, he shrugs.

“Have you seen her?” He can’t help himself.

“She’s been visiting Mason’s parents with Levi. No need for a babysitter, or a best friend I guess,” she shrugs.

Pansy hadn’t seen either of them all week. Draco’s fault.

“Nothing you can do about it tonight, Draco. So let’s just go to mine and get drunk and pretend like we’ve never done a single bad thing in our lives.”

Draco decides to go.

Pansy makes him change his shirt twice.

And then they leave behind his pitiful apartment, taking Pansy’s car to her flat.

He would have preferred side-apparition.

“Blaise is already here, he came in last night. So we could catch up,” Pansy says, pulling into a car park next to a nice looking building.

Draco rolls his eyes.

Of course Pansy and Blaise had slept together. Neither one of them thinks love exists, let alone that you should abstain from sex just because of a lack of feelings.

“And who else will be in attendance?”

“I’m not sure. I sent an owl to Theo and the owl came back without the invitation so perhaps he’ll finally see fit to appear. Luna will probably come.”

“Luna Lovegood?” Draco asks, surprised by the prospect of the young Ravenclaw being friends with Pansy.

Pansy turns off the car and unlocks the doors.

“Blaise has it on for her, but neither of them are doing fuck all about it. So I keep inviting her. Come on,” Pansy climbs out.

Draco follows, finding that he likely has no other choice.

Blaise and Luna. He can tolerate that for a few hours.

And Theo might turn up. Which would honestly be great. His childhood friend would have no problem confirming that Draco is a complete twat undeserving of Granger and her son. 

Pansy’s flat is beautiful. Draco’s own flat could fit inside of it three times over.

For as much as she was “struggling” in the magical world, the muggle world was treating her fine.

She’d mentioned something about working in fashion, but Draco can’t remember doing what.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Blaise Zabini stands from a beautiful black velvet couch and crosses the room to embrace Draco. There are two couches in Pansy’s apartment and they complement the spacious layout with sage green accents that soften it into someplace appealingly inhabitable.

The hug is short, but appreciated. Draco would take any kindness offered at this point.

“Hello,” he smiles, tight-lipped.

“After five years, that’s all you’ve got to say?” A voice from a doorway Draco hadn’t noticed says.

Theodore Nott is standing there, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

Draco’s smile broadens.

“All it took for you to come was hearing I’d be here, huh?” He asks.

Theo’s glare turns to a smile and he laughs.

“I figured it’d be worth it to come out of seclusion if it meant seeing how poorly you’ve aged.” 

They all settle on the pair of couches Pansy has in her spacious sitting room and Pansy serves them all drinks. 

Strong liquor that burns on its way down.

“You look better than you ought to,” Blaise says, breaking the ice.

“You really look better than he ought to. Having enough money for food and clothes really makes a difference I suppose,” Pansy comments. 

If he is honest with himself, he does look better than he ought to.

And it isn’t the full stomach or the new clothes.

It’s her.

“He’s always been able to pull off gaunt,” Pansy adds.

“Remember sixth year?” Theo asks. “Struggling with the morality of murder and he looked like a male model.”

His three friends chuckle, but it’s harder for Draco to laugh.

He’d been emulating his father back then.

Glancing down, he’s glad he’d stuck with the grey jumper and not changed into something more formal.

It just isn’t who he is anymore.

“Where have you been, Theo?” Draco asks, desperate for the focus to move off of him.

“Under everyone’s noses,” Theo jokes, waggling his brow. “Actually, I’ve been in my manor. Spending my family’s money and fucking about.”

“I heard you were working for the Ministry. As one of those Unspeakable characters,” Blaise says, leaning back into the couch, summoning a smoke.

Theo shakes his head.

“And you, Blaise? What have you been doing?” Pansy turns the table on him.

“Taking care of my mother. Travelling. Enjoying the sunny beaches stunning women of southern Italy. All things you can do when you’re richer than sin.”

The three others groan, and Blaise smirks.

“Pansy tells me you’re working in a bookshop, Dray. Is that true?” Blaise asks.

Draco nods, wondering what else Pansy has shared about his situation.

“How’re you finding the muggle world?” Theo asks, leaning forwards and finishing his drink.

Pansy fills it with a silent spell and Draco takes note not to drink too much tonight, setting his own glass down.

“There’s a lot more to it than the wizarding world,” Draco says honestly. “A lot of it is interesting.”

“You like it,” Theo accuses.

Does he? Draco had been treating his current position as a sort of limbo.

“It has its benefits,” he concedes.

He thinks of the music device Hermione had given him. And the fiction he’d found himself disappearing into at the store. Plus, the amount of options for dining out.

“I for one love the muggle world,” Pansy chimes in. “Mostly for the vast pool of eligible men whom I can be confident I am not related to.”

Draco is grateful for her distracting the other two and he settles in.

For once, he doesn’t vie for attention or talk too much. He listens to his friends tell stupid stories and enjoy himself.

There have been a lot of things that have made him regret most of his life choices, but he can’t bring himself to regret being friends with any of them.

Back at Hogwarts he’d kept each of them at an arm’s length.

He could snog Pansy, but he couldn’t tell her anything about his family.

He could tell Blaise about his nightmares but he couldn’t publicly be his mate. Just his leader.

 And Theo.

They’d spent their childhoods learning to fear their fathers, but Draco had hardly had a minute for him once they started at school.

As the other three try to convince themselves that they aren’t too old for the muggle clubs. Draco swears to himself not to take them for granted anymore.

The night ends earlier than it probably would have when they were at school, but Draco is at least properly drunk.

Theo offers to apparate him home, which Draco is pretty sure is just a ploy to see his dingy apartment.

“We’ll do something better next time. Like a knitting circle,” Pansy assures them.

Luna never showed, so Blaise is standing too close to Pansy, his intentions clear.

“Thanks,” Draco says.

All three of his friends look at him with surprise.

“Alright, don’t make it a whole thing. Come on Theo,” Draco covers the sincerity with a swift brush off.

The two of them make their way out of the building and Theo asks for the closest apparition point to him flat. Luckily, Draco knows it.

“Aren’t you going to invite me up?” Theo flutters his eyelashes at him after they land and are certain neither of them are going to vomit.

“I let the staff have the evening off so I can’t really host anyone,” Draco drolls.

“Finally. You’re back to being yourself,” Theo says, rolling his eyes.

“I’ll see you next week,” Draco says, fishing for his keys out of his pocket.

“Fine. I won’t force you to show me the squalor you are living in. You know, if you wanted you could come live with me,” Theo offers.

Draco wants to laugh.

“I can’t actually. On account of the Nott name. My probation supervisor would never allow it. Thanks though.”

“Another thank you? Watch out, Malfoy. Someone might mistake you for a good guy.”

The street is quiet and Draco needs a glass of water so he just offers Theo a rude gesture and heads inside.

Climbing the stairs to his flat, he fishes out his keys.

“Draco.”

His head snaps up and he chokes on air.

Hermione Granger is standing in front of his door.

“Hi,” he says, wishing he could shake away the alcohol making his brain fuzzy.

Her face gives away nothing.

“I thought you'd be home,” she says.

He should have been home. He’s always home. Why wasn’t he home?

Draco steps closer and she moves so he can open the door.

He pushes in and holds the door for her, not sure what to say.

An explanation seems like a good start, so he tells her about Pansy’s flat.

But he doesn’t tell her about Theo or Blaise being there which helps reignite his guilt.

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” Hermione rushes out. “That’s actually why I’m here,” Granger crosses her arms over her chest.

“Do you want a glass of water?” Draco offers, stepping into the kitchen.

He needs a bucket of water. Needs to be sober. Right now.

“Draco,” Hermione says, louder this time.

He turns and finds her standing at the second chair at his table, guarded.

Abandoning his glass, he joins her, sitting down first.

She looks relieved, but even after they are both sitting around his too small table, she doesn’t say anything.

Draco used to be comfortable with silence. Before he spent five years in the stony quiet of a prison cell.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

Her eyes widen.

“I owe you an apology,” Hermione looks away.

“You don’t,” he shakes his head.

“I do. And for more than just overreacting. I know that you didn’t show Levi your tattoo and that, well, that you really wouldn’t do anything to hurt Levi.”

“Or you,” Draco tells her, more than relieved that she doesn’t hate him.

She smiles.

“So. I am sorry, Draco.”

He reaches for her hand. 

She lets him take it.

“You never have to apologise for protecting your family.”

“I was scared.”

He swallows.

“Not of you,” she rushes out. 

Their eyes meet and she lays her other hand over his.

“It’s only been a year since Mason died and I am struggling with it more than I realised. Levi is all I have left of him and-”

“Hermione, you don’t have to explain anything.”

“But I want to. Draco, I’ve had such a wonderful time with you over the last couple of months and I was awful to you. What I said. You are not a bad person. It was completely unfair but I’ve just been so scared. I felt like I was falling without a parachute-”

“A what?”

“It’s a muggle thing. What I mean is that my heart was moving faster than my brain and by the time it caught up I was just looking for any reason to push you away.”

Draco had been so selfish.

He’d thought it was all about him.

But he had forgotten how much she had lost.

A man she loved. The father of her son. 

Barely a year. He’d forgotten.

“I’m sorry.” It falls out of him before he can really think about it.

“Please don’t say that. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’ve been nothing but good to me. I know you care about me. I care about you too. I just don’t know if that is enough right now.”

His heart aches.

Right now. There is the promise of the future in those words.

But there is no future in the idea that the way they feel isn’t enough.

“Because of Levi,” he says.

“I spent the week with Mason’s parents. They obviously don’t know about magic. They think I just work in the bookshop. They don’t understand everything I am doing to give Levi a good future. Finding him the right school and the right environment to nurture his magic while making sure that he has ties to Mason. To his father. Between the Walsh’s and my parents and the shop,” she peters out.

“You’re not sure there is room for me,” he finishes for her.

He hates the words that are coming out of his mouth.

All of them.

They are so stupid. Not at all how he really feels.

Right now.

He should tell her that he will wait. That things can slow down.

To a snail’s pace.

Draco pulls his hand from hers.

“Granger, you have every right to feel the way you do. I get it.”

She looks guilty. And sad.

Draco hates it.

Hates himself for how he is handling things.

Why won’t the words come out differently?

“I’m trying to make you understand the pressure I am under to raise Levi without their influence. They already disapprove of how I make a living. How I am raising Levi. If they think I am bringing unsuitable men into my son’s life, they’ll never leave me alone. They’ll try to take him away from me.”

“You are saying you can’t be with me.”

She doesn’t say anything. 

“I’m saying that I am sorry for what I said on Tuesday, but that I think it helped me realise what my life needs to be right now.”

Right now.

“But you still have feelings for me,” he points out.

She nods.

“And you enjoy it when we spend time together.”

She nods again.

“And I have feelings for you.”

Guilt flashes across her face.

“Draco-”

“So I’ll wait,” he says, finally approving of the words coming out of his mouth. It comes out so matter of fact he is almost surprised by it himself. 

“What?” She asks.

“You can’t be with me right now. So I’ll wait.”

She sits back, obviously confused.

“I don’t expect you to-,” she shrugs her shoulders like it is a completely ludicrous thing for him to do. 

“It’s late,” Draco says, standing up. “You should get home. Look in on Levi. I’ll see you at work.”

She stands up, but she doesn’t look like she is done with the conversation.

Hermione Granger is never one to walk away from a debate.

But this isn’t up for debate.

Hermione wants to protect her child. To ensure that he is raised knowing he is loved, was loved by his father. 

Every child should be so lucky as to have a mother like her.

“Get home safe,” Draco says, grabbing the door and smiling at her softly.

He can see the thoughts swirling in her mind.

Draco is certain she had planned on saying a great many other things.

“See you tomorrow,” Hermione says, walking past him, accepting that the conversation is over.

Draco takes a deep breath in, savouring the sweet honey scent of her hair as she leaves.

Closing the door after her, Draco closes his eyes.

His head hurts.

Hermione Granger doesn’t hate him.

And he’ll see her tomorrow.