Chapter 1
From the diary of Draco Malfoy: "They call her the 'Golden Girl' but I suspect nobody uses it the right way. Perhaps everyone can see it, the way she buzzes of electricity. That explains her hellish mane of curls. An accident from unbalanced electrons. Hand moving up too quickly when a question is asked, knocking the negative energy from her entire body. I suppose it does make her golden. Yellow sparks and white teeth balancing each other out. Sometimes I feel I must warn others, "Close your eyes!" for she outshines the sun. If I get too close my body feels drawn, maybe begging to also be balanced in the same way hers is. A sock stuck to a shirt after someone forgets to add a drier sheet."
Draco didn't remember.
He didn't remember eighth year.
He didn't remember their first kiss.
He didn't remember holding her close.
He didn't remember worshiping her body.
He didn't remember saying 'I love you.'
He didn't remember her.
He didnt even remember to tell her had had forgotten.
He didn't remember to tell the nurse in St. Mungo's he had a fiance.
He remembered to go missing, or maybe that was natural to his little ferret brain. Run, hide, avoid. Maybe he chose to seek isolation after his accident.
That selfish, pompous, bloody terr- Hermione's breath left her like a deflating balloon. If she cared less for books she would have dropped the one in her hands. "Hello?"
"Hello. I noticed you from across the store and I was wondering if you'd like to go for coffee?"
Draco Malfoy still didn't remember, even seven years later. Hermione didn't have time to process the confirmation of her worse nightmare when a body hit hers, waving a book around with excitement. "Mum! I have to tell you something!"
Scorpius chattered excitedly about eyelash bugs until he spotted Draco, eyes wide with awe, "My mummy has a photo of you, it makes her cry," he blurted. Hermione looked to Draco in horror, begging every single god to make this stop happening. But Draco let out a chugged laugh,
Eyes crinkling in the corners like he was thinking deeply about something, "How old are you?"
Scoripius started to count on his fingers before proudly holding up seven.
Additional: Does it make it better or worse when I tell you she named the kid Scorpius because Draco knew she was pregnant before the accident and thats the name he wanted that she kept saying was dumb
"That makes it worse but i am actually a masochist so please tell me more? Does he remember he’s a wizard? Because he didn’t remember her"
So like yes and no? He kept core childhood memories (mostly trauma) but lost so much of his memory because he spent most of his life dissociating and was unable to "just stop" when he found happiness with Hermione. The accident was close to after the war (maybe a year) so he didnt have the time he needed to learn to stop and be in his own body properly. He def reacted violently to seeing his mom when waking up in Mungo's and since he only had core trauma memories he ran from what he knew for safety. I like to think they parted ways forever. Draco was a bit weirded out by the photo comment, at this point he knows his past, and Hermione vehemently denies knowing him because she can't handle his rejection if its not a situation she's controlling. Of course Hermione thinks about it forever and nothing happens until years and years later when Scorpius asks about his father and she tells him the truth. He finds Draco and starts a relationship with him and it takes Herm a lot of time to agree to see D again
Hermione found him in the shower, skin shriveled among bottles of soaps and vials of potions. He was sitting, curled in on himself and mumbling as she reached for him, beckoning him to dry land. "I can't take it off," he choked, revealing his Dark Mark, bloody from scrubbing.
From the diary of Hermione Granger:
October 1997: Love cannot be two bloody idiots who think I'm asleep while they relieve themselves into a spell made rubber. They're not even good at being quiet while I lie here and go over every spell I cast for our safety trying to make sure I didnt forget one. I'm scared, diary. I don't think it's hit them yet like its hit me. Sometimes I don't like being the smart one, my brain gives me too many things that go bump when the wind blows.
May 1998: I should have known I hated safety when I took place of the Rook in first year. Should have learned to avoid it. But Ron feels so safe. I don't know if I could love him but I know I could be safe with him. After this year I think all I want is to be safe.
October 1998: Hogwarts still feels hollow. The dust has gone but the memories of blood are haunting everyone. I think even the forbidden forest is still mourning with how quiet it gets at night. Maybe I'll learn to love the silence while I learn to love Ron.
April 1999: I saw Malfoy in that bookshop I love. I thought it wasn't him until he sneered at me for staring. I must have looked looney but him in muggle London is just as looney.
We're getting lunch next weekend.
July 1999: I can't love Ron. I have better conversations with Malfoy at this point. How can I love a man I can't even get on with as a friend?
December 1999: Draco's invited me to a Christmas party. I used to love Christmas, I think a proper jolly one will do me good. Maybe this is what I need to learn to love again. :)
January 2000: He kissed me. Diary how do I apologize for hitting him after?
February 2000: I kissed him! I kissed him and I loved it and it felt nothing like snogging Ron or dancing with Krum. It felt proper and dangerous and... Shit.
'I've got to practice living without you, you know? Practice knowing I have to be my own support system. You carried me so far, and now I'm a hot air balloon without gasoline for my fire. Adrift.' Draco sighed, no bothering to wait for an answer from someone long dead. Mental gymnastics always stuck the landing when it came to beating himself up for missing her this much. The bloody pulp he became after deserved a drink, so he headed for the pub. Scotch vowed that tomorrow he would delete the chat and her number. Tomorrow he'd be stronger.
And then someone sat next to him and spoke. Writing lyrical hymns around his brain that begged him to swaddle her heart with his soul and he was only a man, broken and lonely. Was he to ignore the incredible discovery of a new God?
Draco reached for his phone, opening the same chat from before, 'Mum, I wish you were still here, I've just met the most brilliant woman."
"What do you take me for?" Hermione screamed, standing in front of the only doorway out of the room. He loved her, Merlin he loved her like the moon loves the sun, grasshoppers need grass, and the sky is black (he had learned this from her, Muggle science was fascinating.) And as he contemplated how much he loved her, she grew redder, fumed more, and readjusted her limbs because nothing felt right for how angry she was with him. Feeling angry with him didnt feel right either, but there was no explanation besides-
"It wasn't me."
"Right, Malfoy, what a fat lot that is. You're defending yourself with the worst lie you could try and use."
"Draco."
"What," Hermione snapped.
"It's Draco, never Malfoy. I can handle Malfoy from anyone but you." He wouldn't meet her gaze and she remembered.
Of course it was Draco, always Draco, and she couldn't believe she had forgotten. Forgotten the night he shared his life before the war, listening to criminals and murders calling his father Malfoy. Being called that name by anyone that disliked him like it were a slur. To him it might as well be. "I'm sorry- Hell. I'm still mad, but I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
"It's quite alright." Draco crossed his arms and looked to the ceiling, staying silent.
"No, it's not, and you don't have to pretend it is. I can't promise I won't say it again but- I can promise I'll try."
He looked at her, finally, and nodded. "Thank you."
"I love you, Mr. Granger, but I'm still bloody fuming you gave Crookshanks treats when I told you not to."
"I love you too, Mrs. Granger. And he was crying!"
"Oh swot up on your manipulation tactics."
Draco was uncomfortable, not that he would admit or show it. Everyone around him was happy, finding pleasure in the company of each other, and he didnt understand. They were so casual. Arms on shoulders, smilng with their gums, laughter from the deepest parts of them. And Draco stood there and watched. His eyes averted, looking at everything but what he wasn't part of, and he didn't see her coming. Not until she was stood with her hand on his chest, smiling at him and speaking. Bloody hell maybe he didnt know how to take pleasure in others, but he would spend years studying how she made him feel and learning if it meant she would stay and look at him like that forever.
Hermione screamed, one hand on her wand, the other holding her side. Digging nails into the wounds that covered her body was the only thing keeping her feet under her. It was hard, the war, there was no other word to describe the feeling of standing on your friends bodies as you fought their murderer. There was no solace, no safe space, only pain, movement, and anger. There was so much anger. Searing hot anger that made you mean the words you swore you'd never speak while your throat constricted and your conscious brain finally caught up to your mouth after the fact.
War made murderers.
War was making Hermione fight the father of the love of her life, and she focused, back and forth casting between them like a game of tennis. Until she was too slow, and her body lurched to the side after being hit by something sharp, stealing her breath. She looked to where she had been, confused, dazed, and seeking rest, only to see Draco, one hand clutching his side, the other shaking with the weight of a pistol.
And then he fired, stopping his father in his tracks while casting, looking to his new bleeding wound. "She's mine. And you'll never hurt her again."
Draco giving up everything and then becoming ruthless in his love for Hermione. He took the mark for his family and now that they're gone he'll do anything for her Hermione complaining about being cat called and Draco coming home late with blood on his collar but"Its wine from drinks with Blaise" Hermione getting suspicious he's cheating but he's just "making sure she's getting the best." (He's threatening her boss to leave the company so she gets a promotion) Toxic Draco devoting every breath to what *he* thinks she deserves. But it ends up pushing her away because of his obsession and when she learns what he's done he grabs her wrist and won't let her out of the house because she's all he has left and if she's gone... Fuck, Granger, without you I have nothing. It was all *for* you."
"I didnt ask for this"
"You didnt have to, just like my father didnt ask me to take the mark. I knew what I had to do then and I know what I have to do now. I have to protect you"
She doesn't even notice the knife until he's stabbed her and she's so confused, she didnt want this
He cradles her while she bleeds out and whispers sweet nothings, brushing hair from her face. Every "baby" and "love" makes her cry more and he tells her everything he did. "All to protect you"
They connect because Hermione is a LinkedIn influencer. Always sharing managing tips and how to keep your employees engaged. Draco recently got feedback that his team doesn't think he's approachable. He ends up going to a seminar she holds in his town and they meet at the hotel bar after
He starts the conversation but she's obviously already buzzed. Hermione goes off about how LinkedIn is full of awful people with few morals and how exhausting it is compared to actually being in politics and shed rather hold public office than be online longer
Draco is shocked but he likes this version of her more and tried to get her attention after that by posting his honest opinions on LinkedIn and becoming a "anti-influencer" but she thinks he's just a pompous straight white guy. They meet at a convention put on by LinkedIn
They share a panel about managerial tactics and the best one to use and when they go toe to toe about their ideals on stage Hermione leaves desperate to fuck him Then they hookup in one of the hotel rooms where the convention is held
It had been fourteen days. Hermione wasn't counting, she just knew his last romp was on a Tuesday and it was the second Tuesday since it had happened.
She was not counting.
Draco dropped into the chair next to her, sighing as he grabbed the paper and went to sip his coffee. It was clockwork. Weekdays Hermione got up first, made coffee, read the paper, and as soon as she was done, Draco joined. He would make himself a cup, black of course, andtake a sip too soon. Hermione would cast a cooling spell right before it hit his mouth and roll her eyes. She didn't care if he burned his tongue, she just didn't want to hear him bitch. That's it. It's not as if he knew, anyways. Draco was the least Slytherin she had ever met and his lack of situational awareness showed itself in every movement he made. But he was rich. He was handsome. He had a lopsided smile that made Hermione-
feel absolutely nothing. She felt nothing. She had felt nothing for such a long time that's why she didn't care if it had been two weeks since he brought home some bird and fucked her. She didn't care that it was out of his routine. She didn't even notice. That's why she didn't care. You can't care when you don't notice something. Hermione stood up, nodded at Draco, and went for her bag to go to work. He nodded back, eyes glinting before he opened his mouth. "Before I forget, I have plans tonight."
"Are these plans happening here?"
Draco took another sip of his coffee. "Yes. Starting around... ten, I'd say."
Hermione nodded and turned to leave for work. She did not care. She did not feel something in her chest constrict. She hadn't even noticed it had been fourteen days.
Hermione couldn't believe her eyes. No, she could. She didn't want to believe her eyes. The level of betrayal was more than she could handle. Sure, she had been working longer hours. Draco said he understood. Said he still loved her and wanted to support her mission. She didn't feel any of that support now. He was supposed to be hers. How could they make the promises they did and then have her come home to this display on her own couch. The couch! As she finally accepted the sight in front of her, there was no mistaking it.
Crookshanks was asleep on top of Draco.
"I'll get my revenge!"
"Yeah! Let's go Ly'!"
Draco kissed the top of Hermione's head while Scorpius and Lyra ran off, "Absolutely your children."
"They didn't make a plan, I think they're yours."
"Its for your own good." Draco turns to leave.
"How would you know what's good for me if you keep making decisions alone and won't LISTEN TO ME." Hermione punctuated her words with jumping on him, causing his knees to buckle and them to tumble to the ground.
"Just let me go!"
Hermione positioned her entire body on top of his. "No."
"Be /reasonable./" He tried to move her off but failed.
"I'm being as reasonable as you. Now shut up I'm asleep."
"Hermione what are you even talking about-" Draco wiggled under her, trying to get up.
She stayed where she was, arms locked around his neck, and made exaggerated snoring noises. Eventually he stilled and sighed, settling and preparing to sleep on the floor for the night. Just as he was about to drift off, he heard Hermione's soft words.
"I don't care if you're a Deatheater, you're MY Deatheater and I'm not letting you go."
Hermione was frozen. Draco had walked inside and Crookshanks had run. She couldn't blame her boyfriend for being stupid and letting out her cat, and she didn't have time to self soothe the bile rising in her throat.
Crookshanks was gone.
She was a hairs width away from breaking down in body heaving sobs and all Draco could do was stand outside and call for that mangy adventurer. He couldn't comfort his girlfriend without excessive guilt, and he was pretty sure she didn't want his comfort anyways.
So they stood, staring at bushes, phone flashlights out. Hermione couldn't open her mouth to call for him, she couldn't bear the concept of verbalizing the loss of the one thing she had that felt stable, so Draco yelled into the silence for both of them. It was when a faint bell jingled that Hermione dashed back inside the ground floor apartment and on to their patio to find her precious baby just outside the bars of the fence, covered in cob webs and looking just as close to breaking down as she was.
She grabbed him, dragging him up through the bars and over the edge so she could hold him close and pick off the debris all over him.
Draco hated things that were messy. Paint, glitter, dirt, children. But Hermione's hair wasn't a mess. It was a gift. It was gentle fluff crowning the most beautiful face he had ever seen. A halo for his angel. He hated mess, but not hers. He could never hate anything about her.
Hermione would scold him constantly for his use of candles. "It has to be lit for at least five hours! If you can't burn it for more it'll tunnel and that's awful to fix."
Draco didn't think he cared if they tunneled or not, he was rich, he could buy another. So there were hidden candles in his dresser, one or two he would light when he felt like it, and maybe there was more wax on the sides than had been burned, but that was his business. Until he noticed how deep the tunnel of his Pink Sands candle had gotten. Poked his finger into the recently used cavern of it and felt it move under his touch like Hermione's thighs when he fucked her.
He was not going to use a candle as a fleshlight. He was NOT.
Pink Sands lay in its drawer for a week before he lit it again, heating the wax to perfection. It gripped his cock and molded to him. It was warm, like a hug.
It was the second best thing he had ever fucked.
This was war. There was no time for tears. No time to slow down or think. Hermione was only speed and intuition. That's why she was able to cast it. If she had hesitated for even a second, Tom Riddle would still be alive and her heart wouldn't be broken.
He believed every "I love you." Every kiss was a promise. His heart sang at her touch and his nerves screamed when they made love. He believed everything she said.
Even if it tasted like Amortentia.
When he fucked her he loved her. When he listened he cherished. When he walked away he didnt take a second look. He told her she was his destiny when his wife was away, promised to leave her and marry the only woman he wanted in his bed.
He was a practiced liar.
He wanted her. Wanted her covered in red, lids heavy, breathing rapid, so close to passing out... Fuck his cock was throbbing just thinking about it. He had to readjust himself under the desk. It was all her fault, really. She just had to get a paper cut in class. Had to lick it and suck on her finger. He wanted to lube his cock with her blood and fuck that mouth. Maybe he'd fuck the holes he carved into her skin. Fuck.
Draco had served the Devil. He knew intimately what it meant to face evil and have it hook claws into you with its eyes. He dreamt of it and could never escape the grip it had on him. It felt like being swallowed whole. But she's everything the Devil can't be. She's able to devour him with less than half the effort. Draco Malfoy had exchanged breath with Lord Voldemort, but Hermione Granger is who consumed his being.
Tom knew temptation. He knew how giving in felt like sin on his tongue. He knew he had an addiction in the worst way every time he killed, stole, beat, took- He had given into temptation and sin a long time ago, marked by the Devil himself. But the Devil couldn't offer him what Hermione could. Sin couldn't give him her taste, feel, sound, body- She's everything the Devil can't be. Tom Riddle had found himself a new God.