A Plan
Hermione awoke feeling as if an entire stampede of first years had run her over. She groaned and stretched her arms above her head, accidentally knocking a fist into something hard.
“Ow!” Draco groggily awoke blearing at her. “Did you hit my head?”
“I…” Hermione paused, looking around. She was in the middle of Narcissa’s rose bush garden, surrounded by hundreds of rose bushes, their smell wafting around them. At Malfoy Manor. “Draco?” Yesterday’s events came flooding back to her.
“Mhmm.” He nuzzled into her shoulder, knocking her back down onto the blanket they laid on. “Too bright.”
The sun was just coming up, illuminating the vast white building behind her.
“Draco.” She repeated trying to shake him awake.
“Bit more, ‘Mione.” He said his voice muffled against her sweater. His sweater, she realized. They had slept the night outside?
“Draco, I swear to Merlin—”
He huffed and raised his head to look at her, his piercing grey eyes now awake and searching her face. It was almost as if clarity had struck him in the face as Draco recoiled off her as she stared at him.
“Hermione, how are you feeling?” The hoarseness of his voice disappeared.
She felt the coil of emotions tighten in her stomach. “Fine.”
Draco’s lips thinned. “What a diplomatic answer.”
“I feel like shit, but the world moves on. Got to hop onto the moving plane right?”
“Plane?”
She frowned. “It’s like…never mind.”
“Would you like breakfast? I’m sure it’ll help soothe the nerves. We can take it in my room.” Draco said almost robotically.
Hermione nodded. “Tea, I suppose.”
“Take my hand, I’ll Apparate us.”
Every cell in Hermione’s body hurt as she stood to take his hand
***
Draco had carefully pulled his quilt over Hermione’s lap as she sat in his bed and sipped on the ginger tea Mippy had delivered. She hadn’t felt like consuming anything else.
She wiggled her toes under the blanket – the bed was heaven. She understood why Malfoy had been a tyrant as a child—if she had grown up with such delights she would have thrown tantrum after tantrum until she was allowed to return home. She frowned, almost shaking her head. Her parents had provided her with such delights, but none that compared to the magic that she found herself capable of. Where would she be without it?
Draco had taken to staring out the window.
“I’ll get over the whole…yesterday, you know.” Hermione said awkwardly to the room.
“You will.” He only replied.
“Everything hurts right now, though.”
He turned around immediately with alarm. “Where?” Draco crossed the room to her in a few seconds.
“No, no.” Hermione waved her hand. “Metaphorically. Well not, but—” She stopped herself from rambling. “It’ll be fine.”
Draco perched himself on the foot of her bed. “Indeed. You can take as much time as you need. I don’t think it ever stops hurting as I’m sure you know, but you can, make things better. Time does heal things, bit by bit. The losses from the war don’t feel as fresh as they once did.”
Hermione nodded, pondering. “I know.”
“Good. Would you like more tea?”
Hermione furrowed his brows at him. “I want to do something.”
“What?” Draco’s face was serious today, his airy almost carefree attitude gone.
“I want to blow the entire purist operation apart.”
“Out of the fucking question.”
“Draco—”
“It’s up to the Aurors now. You have barely any training.” He clipped at her.
“I have more fucking experience than over three-quarters of that useless lot. Let me destroy them.”
“You’ll expose yourself to even more fucking shit trying to do that.”
“I’m not even sure how you interpreted that as a question.” She snarled.
Draco stood to his full height and stalked over to Hermione. He placed his arm over her lap and leaned into her face, his jaw set tight. “I don’t care what self-destructing mood you’re in. Destroy the fucking Manor for what I care. You’re not subjecting yourself to that purist shit again.”
“They’ll come back. The second they get a wiff of what’s going on. After me, it’ll be Harry.”
“Potter isn’t your concern.”
“He’s my fucking brother.”
Draco scoffed. “The two of you are going to get each other killed.”
“I don’t particularly care. The purists deserve it.”
“No.” He stormed back over to the window. “You’re not leaving my sight, Granger.”
“You think just letting the Ministry deal with this is enough?” Hermione sat up in bed, slamming the teacup down onto the nightstand. Draco’s arms had gone slack at his sides. “Draco!”
“The fuck?” He growled still staring out the window. “What in the ever-loving fuck?”
A loud boom followed his statement, rattling Hermione’s teacup against the nightstand.
Hermione nearly fell out of bed reaching for her wand and ran up to see what Draco was watching out of the window.
A dark grey plume of smoke rose from the gate of the Manor in the distance. A sonorous echoed against the Manor walls, rattling against the windows.
“Malfoy, if I don’t see Hermione outside and alive in the next five seconds, I’m going to burn your house to the ground.”
Harry.
***
Draco knew he wasn’t bluffing. He also knew the Manor had so many layers of blood magic on it that Potter wouldn’t be able to burn it down even if he spent the next ten years trying. He pushed the window in front of him open and casted his own sonorous, toning out Hermione’s screeching next to him as she tried to claw her way out of his arms and out the window.
The witch was fucking barmy. No sense of self-preservation whatsoever.
“You can fucking try you cun—HARRY!” Hermione’s screaming interrupted his message. Draco would’ve laughed if Hermione wasn’t actively trying to get to Mr. Lets-find-a-way-to-die. His sonorous went through.
“Great, now Potter’s going to think I’m torturing you here.” Draco muttered as he pulled the kicking witch onto his shoulder and slammed the window shut.
He tossed her onto the bed. “Are you trying to die? How do you even know that’s Potter?”
Hermione glared at him with a stare that could burn holes through the wall behind Draco.
“I’ll go check.” Draco started. “Do you hear me? You’re going to stay here.”
She let out a laugh. “Have you lost your mind?” She slid off the bed, and stormed up to Draco. He didn’t move a muscle.
“You’re going to stay here. If it’s Potter and he is of sound mind, I’ll let the maniac come see you.” Draco repeated.
“You can’t keep me in here—I’ll just Apparate out.”
“The wards won’t allow it.” Draco replied, almost sounding bored.
“You know what magic I’m capable of.” She snarled.
“And you know I have further developed that same magic. I will overpower yours any day of the goddamn week.” Draco said. Potter’s shouting could be heard faintly in the room.
Hermione was heaving, her eyes flitting back and forth between his face. Draco hated it. He hated every second of what he had to do. If it was a purist in disguise out there, and they got their hands on her, he knew he’d end up in Azkaban. He’d curse the blood magic set out on the Manor grounds and burn it down himself.
“It won’t take me long Hermione.”
“Draco.” She said, her lip beginning to scrunch up. “Don’t you dare—”
“Forgive me.” He said dropping her hands and Disapparated, leaving Hermione in his childhood bedroom.
***
Draco sauntered down the path that led to the Manor gates. Potter stood pointing his wand out at Draco.
“Calm, Potter, calm.” Draco pointed his wand at Harry, the air around them cackling with energy. Potter looked absolutely maniacal, his hair even wilder than usual, his clothes disordered.
“What did Snape repeat during occlumency training?” Harry shouted at him.
“The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Draco. Or at least, most minds are.” Draco yelled back. “What did Dumbledore tell me when I came to him in seventh year?”
Pain flashed across Harry’s face. It was something Draco had not told anyone except for Potter after his trial. “I will protect you, Draco. Come to me when it’s time.” Harry repeated, lowering his wand and stepping towards Draco. “Where is she?”
“She’s safe.”
“Let me see her.” Harry snarled. “The entire force can be summoned here.”
“No. Also, fuck your Aurors. My house elf could fight the whole lot off.”
“Malfoy—”
“Listen to me.” Draco’s steel eyes bore into Harry’s. “A lot has happened. If she sees you, she’s going to think she’s ready to leap up and save the day. She needs time, Potter. She already thinks she’s ready to fucking bounce up and—”
“Then it sounds like she’s ready to come outside.”
“It’s not safe outside the Manor walls. The purists are waiting, and they probably know she’s here. The only thing we have going is that they don’t know she isn’t under a potion.”
Potter’s chest was moving up and down. “This was supposed to end after the war. This is—”
Draco grabbed Harry by his shoulders. “I know. Merlin, Potter I know. There’s a chance we can fix this, but right now Hermione does not need this shit.”
“Draco—”
“Let me handle this. I’ll call on you and a few others before the conference?”
“I will not leave without seeing she’s alright.”
Draco let out a harsh breath and took a step back from Harry. “Fine.”
***
Hermione sat against the wall, her head pressed against the windowpane watching Draco and Harry restrain themselves from committing murder.
One moment they were outside, and the next with a loud crack, in the bedroom.
Harry fell to his knees seeing Hermione, who rushed into his arms. “Harry!” She squealed.
“Merlin, what happened?” He gasped staring at her.
“What-what do you mean?” Hermione stuttered. She could not possibly look that bad.
“Love, you were on the run for a few days. You look a little bedraggled. Sweetly bedraggled, that is.” Draco pitched in.
Hermione frowned, unconsciously running a hand through her hair, and she faced Harry again. “Harry, I’m fine. In fact, I have a plan.”
Harry’s eyes widened slightly. “’Mione…”
“It will be good, Harry.” She said grabbing his arm. “Actually,” She eyed Draco. “I am to take a few days rest. To process everything that has happened and all of that and then… I’ll tell you the plan.”
Harry looked at her for a few moments, his familiar green eyes and thin frame glasses comforting Hermione. He gave her a thin smile. “Fine. Till then, I’ll bring you a few things that you like? And I’ll visit in the evenings. And, I’ll have to tell everyone that you’re fine. They’re beside themselves.”
“You can’t mention that she’s here.” Draco was leaning against a bedpost, his arms crossed.
“They won’t know a thing, Malfoy. Hermione comes first.”
“Right.” Hermione gave Harry a small smile. “Please bring me those snacks.”
***
For the next few rounds of tea time, Hermione nibbled on treacle tarts, caramel drizzled fudge, pumpkin pasties and would drink obscene amounts of butterbeer. She pouted and laid against Draco’s chest. Hermione felt a wave of tiredness pass over her as her eyes began to close. “Little sleepy, Draco.” She could feel his humming through his chest.
“I know. We’ll do something fun tomorrow if you have a bit more energy.”
“Mhm, Draco.” Hanging out with Harry and Draco gave her a sense of safety that allowed her to rest peacefully in Draco’s chambers.
Three more days passed onwards, where Hermione would wake with the sudden urge to wipe out half of the Aurors and the entirety of the purist wizards, and then would tire and sleep the rest of the day. Draco would sit with her in the mornings, then pace the afternoons, and then spend the nights sprawled on the bed with her, occasionally waking and choking on Hermione’s hair.
“Today, I want you to call on the Serpents.” They were still in bed, Hermione in a Slytherin Quidditch jersey, and Draco in nothing but his cashmere pajama pants. She had a leg thrown over his body as they both lay on their backs and stared up at his canopy.
“The Serpents?”
Hermione gave him a small smile. “Blaise, Theo, Pansy.”
Draco scoffed. “We have never been called that.”
“To your face, at least. I also want your parents there.”
“Why?” Surprise shone on this face.
“They should be a part of this. Do me a favor and make sure they’re on our side, though.”
“You have a plan.” It wasn’t a question coming from Draco.
“I do. Call them.”
“Whatever her Majesty Granger requires.”
***
About an hour later, Draco’s large—ginormous, more like—grey bird perched on the edge of the dining table, looking fairly ragged. Hedwig had delivered various letters penned by Hermione and Draco, all set with various invitation times.
As visitors arrived, one by one, and Draco stood by the Manor gates and pointed his wand. There was some arguing, as Hermione and the elder Malfoys watched from a window in the parlor. Pansy gave the largest fight of indignation, and even gave Draco a stinging hex to his shoulder. Narcissa watched with a glove to her mouth.
Hermione did not speak to the Malfoys despite them being a few meters away from her. They did not have an inclination to speak to her either. Draco had spoken to them this morning, and then returned to his bedroom looking slightly terrorized and slightly angry, but he had nodded to her and said that they were on the right side this time around.
Blaise, Harry, and Theo were mingling in the entryway to the Manor, their voices carrying down the hallway to the parlor. Hermione was overcome with a sudden urge to remain rooted in the same spot. Draco and Pansy were marching back to the entrance.
She took a few deep breaths. Everything would go fine, and when she was done being Minister, she’d take a nice long vacation outside of England. Far, far away from England.
Footsteps approached the parlor, and the Malfoys turned to face the door, the patriarch walked forwards and pulled the doors open. Narcissa’s eyes, Hermione could feel, were burning a hole into her forehead. Hermione focused on the French doors opening.
Theo and Pansy met her gaze first. Theo’s usual bags underneath his eyes looked purple and Hermione felt a tinge of guilt—he must’ve been worried sick.
He came to envelop her, and Blaise went to give Narcissa a small kiss to her hand. “Pleasure as always, Mrs. Malfoy.”
Draco and Harry came in last, and as Draco made his way towards her, Harry mingled by the door with a face of discomfort.
Hermione squeezed Theo before stepping away, and Draco found his place beside her. “Well,” She started. “Thanks for coming, everyone. Let us get started, shall we?”
“How have you been?” Theo asked his eyes flitting between her face and Draco’s.
“Fine. It’s been an exhausting week, but our deadline is coming up, and I would like to put an end to this so I may continue on with my life.”
Her gaze finally lifted to the Malfoys. “We’ll need your help to pull this off.” She took another deep breath. “As you know, there are a few purists that are out for my blood. Right now, they’re under the assumption that at least Draco and I are under their potion. And, they assume that you, Lord and Lady Malfoy are… on their side as well. I assume you are not, and trust Draco’s judgment on that.”
Narcissa spoke, her voice quiet and soft. “You assume correct, Miss Granger. And as you are who our son has chosen, as he quite loudly told us this morning—” Her steel-colored eyes cut to Draco’s. “We then also accept you as a Malfoy, and will help you with whatever you need.”
Hermione felt her throat closing up and gave her a nod. “Perhaps we can navigate that further when this is all over.”
“Indeed.”
“Right so…” Hermione trailed off. “There is a Ball coming up, and they expect me to be there. Obviously, to announce my departure. I was thinking that, instead of getting the Aurors involved, because we obviously do have moles everywhere, we could maybe identify and apprehend the purists ourselves. I would need to enter maybe by myself or with Draco, and then we would mingle. Knowing that we’d be under the potion, the purists should make themselves known to us. The Malfoys would also perhaps, identify a few people and we can place targets on their backs. We’d set anti-Apparation wards and seal off the building. I won’t mingle with anyone that isn’t … someone that Purist Draco wouldn’t speak to, like Harry or Ron. We don’t want to set them off that we’re not on the potion. Oh, and we’ll probably need to make more of that antidote. Anyway…” Hermione realized she’d been rambling. Everyone’s eyes were on her. “During the speech I’d like to get two things done. Two owls, one bird type of thing. When I go on stage to announce my departure, we’ll begin the apprehending. Perhaps we’ll need a few Aurors for this, but we keep them in the dark till then. Once they are captured well… now that we’d have the attention of everyone that’s important to the Wizarding World… I’d like to announce my bid for Minister.”