Chapter 1
In the ten years since that final battle at Hogwarts, Harry had been working his way through the Auror's department. Even as a grunt Auror sent out on routine investigations, Harry had done his best work, spending early mornings and late nights at the office to prove himself. Kingsley wasn't the kind of Minister to let friendships influence his choices in promotions. If anything, Harry had to work even harder to impress the new Minister, but in just those 10 short years, he'd made it to a management position, handling a small team of Aurors.
But in that working frenzy, Harry had missed the moment that Hermione was supposed to come home and didn't.
Hogwarts was too damaged to resume with classes all those years ago, so McGonagall arranged for the students to go abroad for the remainder of their years. Half the girls went to Beauxbatons, half the boys went to Durmstrang, and the rest were sent to America. Hermione had been one of those chosen to go to Beauxbatons for her 8th year, but when the time came for her to return home, she wasn't on the train.
She hadn't even returned any owls, nor come home for any holidays. Harry, Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys hadn't seen her since she had gotten on the train all those years ago, and Harry had been so busy working, he hadn't even realized she was due home until the summer months after that 8th year were long gone, and Christmas was rolling back around.
Hermione hadn't even come home for Harry and Ginny's wedding.
Over the years, Harry had gone longer and longer between notes until he didn't send them at all. It wasn't often anymore that Harry thought about Hermione, but moments like this made him remember all the people he'd lost contact with over the years, including his closest friend.
Moments like this because that was Draco Malfoy sitting across the desk from Harry, looking every bit the same he did when Harry last saw him, but he'd grown into his name and taken on just a little more of his father's swagger. His hair, still nearly white, had grown out a bit, a few small strands hanging over his forehead. His eyes were still that piercing grey-blue, this brow was still sharp and his nose still aristocratic. His robes were a deep green, almost black, and similar to those he might have worn at Hogwarts, except that Harry could see he was wearing a muggle suit under them.
"Can-" Harry pursed his lips, thinking of something- anything he could say. "Can I show you around the department?"
Draco smirked. "I have been to the ministry before, I used to go to work with my father after all."
Harry nodded. "Then lets get to the case, then."
Draco had only just come back to London after an extended stay over seas. Last Harry had heard through the newspapers, he and Narcissa had gone to France to live out the house arrest orders in their coastal cottage. Draco had gotten certified as a potions master while there, and after being released from his house arrest, he joined the French wizarding government as a consultant on potions-related security cases.
But Kingsley needed a new potions master on the payroll after the last one was put in St. Mungos, especially when Harry discovered an old manor positively buzzing with dark magic, protected by a moat with some kind of potion tainting the waters. So Kingsley had sent a letter to Draco, detailing an impressive offer for a new position back with the English Ministry of Magic. Draco had accepted, and once the initial signing bonus was cleared to the Malfoy vault, Draco had moved back to be the newest member of the Auror department.
"Please," Draco drawled, extending a hand. "I have some ideas about what it might be, given your report so far, but I'd need some time to figure out a suitable counter-potion."
"Understandable," Harry said.
"And I need some help," Draco continued. "I worked closely with Theodore Nott and Blaise Zambini back in France, I'd like to bring them in as consultants."
"Nott I can understand, he was working at The Apothecary in Diagon Alley last I understood. But Zambini is teaching Transfiguration in Poland."
"He was," Draco said. "He changed directions last year, he came to work with Nott and I on a few cases. Some of the older potion based defenses become complicated when spellwork is also involved. He can get through the Charms on most of these places."
Harry hummed. "I'll speak to the Head Auror and get some Galleons set aside for a consultants fee."
"Excellent! I am looking forward to-"
A noise cut Draco off, a strange noise. Like a jingle, or a bell ringing. Harry looked around in alarm, trying to find the source, and then Draco shifted in his seat and pulled a phone from his pocket. A muggle phone. Harry hadn't seen a phone like that since Arthur Weasley had brought one home from work and eagerly asked Harry to show him how it worked.
"Hello?"
Harry gaped for a moment, watching as Draco talked into the phone like it was normal. Like he wasn't a pureblooded wizard talking into a very muggle piece of technology.
"It's been fine, actually, you wouldn't believe who I am talking to right now... The Boy-Who-Lived himself... Uh-huh. Yes, of course, dear... I would never. You made that decision and I respect that... Yes. Give them a kiss for me, and tell them I'll be home for when they get home on Sunday. I love you."
Draco hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket, thin fingers folding together on the table between himself and Harry. Harry gestured wildly at the man.
"Yes?" Draco asked.
"You're using a phone?"
Draco fought a smile unsuccessfully. "My wife is a fan of cell phones, especially when I'm at work."
"What, Parkinson found a change in soul while abroad?"
"No, I didn't- what?" Draco shook his head. "Pansy, you mean? No, no, we were never going to be anything other than friends. She married Blaise years ago. No, that was never going to be- no."
"Okay," Harry said, drawing out the word as his eyes almost twitched. "So if it's not Parkinson, who is it? Greengrass? Bulstrode?"
"No, no. I didn't marry pure, actually, I went a more non-traditional route and married a muggle-born. She's taking our kiddos to my mother's right now since this weekend is our anniversary."
Harry's eyebrows nearly shot off his forehead.
~~~
Draco flooed through the main fireplace of the manor and stepped out to a soft, candle-lit room. The Mrs. Malfoy had gone above and beyond to set the stage for date night. With their three littlest with Grandma Narcissa, Draco was ready to spoil his wife with a wonderful weekend - he'd planned a book tour of London, one she had hopefully never been on, and a picnic in the park on the other side of the muggle city, and a romantic dinner on a boat cruise along the river.
"I'm in here!"
Draco threw his briefcase down on one of the couches by the fireplace and nearly skid into the formal dining hall. There she was, in all her bouncing curls and soft smiles and gentle posture.
"My little lioness, you look divine tonight."
"And you, Mr. Malfoy, you have a lot to tell me about your day."
Draco took a seat across from Hermione and took in the food on the table. It was an impressive spread, one Draco recognized as a replica of their wedding feast. "You would not believe the day I have had," Draco said. "Potter was happy enough to give me a report he's done so far on the moat case, and I have some ideas. I put in a request for Theo and Blaise to come work with me on it, it looks like a mutation of a Draught of Death."
"Oh," Hermione said, her face brightening. "I hope that happens! Theodore is one of my favorite houseguests of all your friends, he's the most polite."
"It is our anniversary, darling, can we refrain from complimenting my friends tonight?"
Hermione laughed, and Draco committed it to memory. That laugh had been one of the first things he fell in love with all those years ago.
~~~
(10 years ago)
Draco had been granted a fairly large area to roam in the end. He and Narcissa had requested to serve the house arrest in their French cottage, to be closer to the sea and to enjoy a home unmarred by the darkness of the Manor. Once they had explained their desire, the Malfoys had been allowed the perimeter of the town, so they could support themselves, shop, and engage in a new community. And so Draco could continue his studies.
He'd been sitting in a local cafe, enjoying a book, when he first heard that laugh. He'd turned, already in love with whoever had that laugh, and came face to face with a girl he hadn't seen in months.
"Granger?"
"Malfoy?"
The joy and carefree laugh was gone, now replaced with mistrust and disgust. Malfoy wanted nothing more than to bring back the happiness that might inspire another laugh, another one of Hermione's carefree laughs, so he carefully marked his book and rose to leave.
"I'm sorry," Draco said. "I didn't know- it doesn't matter. I'll return to the cottage, don't- don't worry. I'll keep my distance from town for a while."
Hermione's stoic face softened for a split second. "You don't have to- I shouldn't be the reason for you to not live your life. Please. I'm only in town for a few days and I shouldn't disrupt your very permanent life here."
Draco cocked his head to the side, but didn't say anything. After a moment, Hermione adjusted her bag on her shoulder and left, but not before pausing mid-step and turning her head back over her shoulder. "That's a very good book, by the way."