PSL - Draco Malfoy | Hermione Granger -->War's end

[loyalotter]

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione's head was reeling. She had a lot to think about, a lot to ponder over, parse out, and wrap her mind around, but no real time in which to do it. Still, she tried her best, though part of her distracted state of mind wasn't due to the war itself or anything that had happened afterwards. It wasn't because of Ron or Harry or Ginny or even what had happened when she'd gone to Australia to find her parents.

What had her mind jumbled up the most were the memories, memories of a time and place so unlikely that she would have dismissed them for false if she didn't know in her heart that they were real. She knew all of that had happened. She'd tried talking to Harry and Ron a few times, but every time she tried, they dismissed her memories for dreams. Frustrated, she stopped trying and held them in.

Until it it occurred to her that there was one person who might remember, too. It was a long shot, especially after everything that had happened towards the end of the battle, but she had to try. Like sixth year, Hermione understood why he'd done everything he'd done, why he's tried to capture them again, and she couldn't say she blamed him. Honestly, she really couldn't. He'd been in a terrible position and had tried to make the most of it. She couldn't begrudge him that.

So, it was with a nervous tilt to her handwriting that she finally sat down with a tiny piece of parchment. On it, she wrote two words: Wings? -Mione If he knew, it he understood, if he remembered... She couldn't help but hope that he would reply favorably. Taking a deep breath, she sealed the parchment up in an envelope and sent it off with her owl.

It was all up to Draco Malfoy now.

Comments

[hisdarkmark]

It had all happened so fast, Draco wasn't even sure what to make of the situation. Every time he pictured what the final battle would be like, he never imagined the things that actually did happen. He never would have thought he'd watch Crabbe die in a fire, he never would have thought his mother would save Harry Potter, and naturally, he never thought Harry Potter would save him.

In the time after the war had ended, things didn't slow down in his life. There was the trial, of course. He could only be so grateful for being pardoned from Azkaban. He knew it was all his mother's doing that saved him that time.

The problem now, however, was the fact that the family name was still tainted. Malfoy no longer felt prestigious, and for the time being? Well, he was ashamed. He was ashamed to be a Malfoy, and ashamed for letting himself get so caught up in the Dark Lor--no, Voldemort's side.

But he was grateful.

Everything was playing out quite normally that morning. The Manor was quiet and undergoing renovation, his mother and father were discussing plans and attempting to fall back into their normal lifestyle, and Draco?

Draco, believe it or not, was sulking. He'd realized he'd grown rather bored practically locked in the Manor, but he also quickly realized that was his own fault. Being a Malfoy meant that hardly anyone wanted to associate with them quite yet, and it meant not leaving the Manor often at all. It left him to think, and when Draco started to think, Draco started to let his mind wander.

At first when the owl came into the Manor with an envelope in its beak, he didn't quite recognize it. He stood up from his place at the dining table and approached the bird, prying the envelope from its beak and ripping it open...

...before promptly dropping the letter on the table as though it had scalded him.

'Wings? -Mione'

Mione could only be one person...but...

He slowly sat down, first staring at the parchment and then shifting his eyes to the owl, who was clearly expecting a response or a treat for its efforts.

"...ruddy bird. Just be patient," he sighed, fetching a treat from a dish on the side. The next problem now was how to respond to Granger's letter. In all honesty, it was sort of a relief to know that perhaps he wasn't completely mental after all. How can one really just forget three years of one's life, especially in a place where you were treated like an animal and had wings? Did she honestly think that he wasn't going to remember?

...well maybe she was correct. For a long time after, he didn't remember. He didn't remember much of the three years he spent in a quaint little village with people from his world. Not until the Snatchers brought the Golden Trio to his Manor anyway. He wasn't sure what it was at the time, but he knew he had to try and protect them. It wasn't out of kindness, he knew that much. It was something else.

And now he understood what that something else possibly was.

He quickly snatched a fresh piece of parchment and a quill, scrawling out a few choice words very carefully.

Scarlet and green, if I recall. Tad ironic, really.

It was safe, just in case it was a trap. He wasn't going to let himself get too far in until he was assured this was real. With those words, he sealed the note into another envelope and practically forced it into the owl's beak.

"Get going."

[loyalotter]

Fortunately, Hermione hadn't been waiting for long when her owl returned. Well, not long by wizarding standards anyway. She'd kept herself busy doing mundane things with her parents, planning to drag them to Diagon Alley at some point so she could help with things there, planning what she needed to do to graduate properly from Hogwarts, make sure Harry and Ron weren't overworking themselves-

When her owl appeared again, she dropped everything she'd been doing and snatched the letter out of the bird's beak. He hooted at her in annoyance until she gave him a treat. Crookshanks hopped up on her desk and she turned the envelope over, holding it out to the half-Kneazle to sniff.

"What do you think?" she whispered, as though she and her cat shared a secret. "Do you think I can trust him?"

Crookshanks just fixed her with a beady-eyed stare, as if to say that it was her problem, her decision. She sighed.

"You're right."

Slicing the envelope open, she pulled out the response with shaking hands. Half of her expected it to be something along the lines of "Don't contact me again, Mudblood," or some variation therein. But her eyes lit up in relief and excitement as she read the words on the parchment. Turning it over to save paper, she dipped her quill in her ink bottle and scratched out a few words.

They were opposite, weren't they? And I haven't let Terri out since her last playtime with Padfoot. She misses him.

It wouldn't make any sense to anyone else, so she felt safe enough to fold it into a third envelope and send it off with her owl again. Something in her was fighting back tears. She had to hope this was real. She couldn't bear it if it was a trick.

[hisdarkmark]

The next time he received a letter from Hermione, he didn't answer her right away. He had to get out of the Manor for a few days before the entire building just swallowed him whole. Thus he had fled to the home of one Blaise Zabini, one of the few he would and could still consider a friend. He couldn't very well answer the girl from Blaise's home, but he thought about it every waking moment he was there.

When was the last time he had even seen Padfoot? 'Luceti, wasn't it?' He thought to himself. Actually, the last time was probably when he saw Hermione and when he saw...her. The other girl. The blond girl that sometimes appeared in his dreams and also in his nightmares.

Caroline Forbes, wasn't it? He had wondered if she had been real as well.

Blaise didn't give him much time to dwell on the thoughts or on Hermione's letter, though.

"You look like shit," he announced in his rather blunt manner. "Come on, we're going out."

And this was how Draco found himself in France with his best mate, two girls, and a bottle of Firewhiskey for the four of them. The pattern continued over the next three days, and it was on the third night after the girls and Blaise were asleep and after a few shots of the Firewhiskey that Draco decided he could officially answer her. He grabbed a spare piece of parchment and a quill, sitting out on the balcony of their room at the inn and scrawling out a message.

Hermione, let me ask you this. Why are you thinking of all of this now? Did you ever think of it during the last year? Or were you like me and you had convinced yourself that maybe it wasn't real?

Do the boys know? Does Saint Potter remember the fact that he and I--

He quickly scratched out that last sentence. It wasn't fair to drag Hermione into his issues; not anymore. While she had once been his greatest confidant, he wasn't sure he could rely on that anymore. It wasn't smart to dredge up the old memories until he was certain what she did and didn't remember? Did she really need to hear about how he still thinks about his relationship with Harry Potter? did she really need to hear how much he had missed her when she left? He thought not.

Terri...why not? Is it that you can't bring her out, or the fact that you choose not to? Mine I reckon is the latter. Padfoot may have died...is it possible for a Patronus to die?

If I didn't know better, I'd say it's actually you that misses me. Is that true? Am I imagining things? Did you know there are so many things I didn't get to say to you before you left? Do you know how many things I wanted to tell you and then you left? And then we had to come back here where you were the hero and I was the villain. How fair is that, Hermione? How utterly unfair is that that we had to fall back into roles and those three years didn't mean anything?

...I've thought about it, a lot. I have dreams and I have nightmares about that place when I can actually manage to sleep. I remember the house...I remember the experiments...I remember the lake, and the garden Longbottom planted outside of your house and the DA and I remember how I actually felt okay being there because I had you people on my side for once.

...do you know what it's like to be a prisoner inside your own home? The war's over, but the aftershocks just keep coming through. I'd rather be a prisoner there than my Manor. Zabini dragged me across Europe. I'm in Paris for Merlin's sake and it doesn't feel nearly as comfortable as that stupid village where I had bloody scarlet wings.

Did I ever date a blonde girl, or am I making that up? Did we ever start a campaign for vampires, or am I making that up too? This letter probably doesn't make sense, but I've realized none of this makes sense. Nothing in my life makes sense anymore, and you were one of the few people who understood that.

I've tried to think of how to explain to my family or even to Blaise why I trusted the three of you enough not to sell you out to You-Know-Who, but how do you tell someone that? How do you tell someone that you were in love with Undesirable Number One and that you journeyed with the other two inside his mind to save him? How do you tell someone that the insufferable know-it-all was possibly the one who turned things around.

You can't.

...how do you do it?

He knew he had to cut himself off before he rambled even more to her. It would make more sense to him in the morning when he could be more composed, but he couldn't squash the overwhelming desire to send the letter as-is. That being said, he found an owl from the inn and pressed the letter in an envelope in its beak, sending him off into the night. With any luck, Hermione would find it a few days later.

[loyalotter]

The days passed slowly for Hermione as she waited for a response. She'd known it would likely take a while for the message to get to him, but when her owl returned without a response, she began to worry. A day passed and she worried further. Maybe he hadn't gotten it. Maybe he was choosing not to respond. Maybe his parents had intercepted it. Or worse, the Ministry. But wouldn't she have heard if that had happened? The Ministry would have contacted her, certainly, and then she'd have to answer to their inquiries as to why she was contacting the Malfoys and it would be a huge mess. But she'd do it. Because that was how their friendship had gone.

Friendship. It still seemed odd to think about.

She sighed and turned from the window. A week later, she'd fallen asleep on the window sill, window open so she could catch the spring breeze. It was late when the owl soared inside and started pecking at her hand. She woke up sharply and swatted it away so she could see what it carried. An owl treat was spared before the thing flew off and she turned her attention to the letter. It certainly looked like his handwriting, but part of her was afraid to find out. Taking a deep breath, she slit it open and read. It certainly sounded like him. A frown creased her face at first before she sighed softly. He was going through the same thing she was and she didn't quite know how to make it better or easier on either of them. But for him, and the friendship they'd forged, she would try her best.

I suppose with the day I was given between leaving Luceti and returning to Hogwarts, I didn't really get the chance to address it before now. I didn't get the year to reflect on it that you did, remember? It hasn't been that long for me, but I couldn't dismiss it because it felt so real and it had happened to me before. I knew what to expect this time 'round.

Hermione paused before she addressed the question of the boys. Even if he'd scratched out the last sentence, she knew she'd have to comment on Harry and Ron at some point. May as well get it over with now.

Harry and Ron don't remember anything. I've tried talking to them about it, but they keep thinking it's some sort of dream I had after Gringotts, even though there wasn't any time at all. I thought I might be the only one who did remember. And then I thought of you. I'd hoped you'd remember, too, but I didn't want to get my hopes up.

And yet, if he hadn't remembered, she didn't like to think of what she would have had to carry around by herself.

I don't think a Patronus can die, exactly, but they can change depending on how its caster is feeling. Terri's still with me. I haven't tried to cast her because it felt wrong somehow. Like she would be missing something. Her friend.

It hurt to look at the words on that page and think about what had happened. I didn't leave because I wanted to, you know. Either time. I would have stayed if I could have. I wanted to tell you so many things, too... but I never got a chance. And a part of her, a large part, had always hated that.

You aren't the villain. No matter what happens, I'll never believe that. I saw too much of the good in you to ever believe it.

She wanted to say more, wanted to address the rest of what he'd said, but she felt that the last part of her letter said enough for the both of them. There wasn't anything else she could add that would change what he was feeling or what they'd experienced. In fact, it might damage what she'd said, so she left it alone. Walking to her owl, she gave him a quick hug and let him clasp the letter in his beak. With a sigh, she released him, wondering how many days it would be before she heard from Draco again.

[hisdarkmark]

As it turned out, it was another five days before Hermione heard from Draco again. This time he was in Italy on another adventure with Blaise. The other boy had decided that France wasn't making Draco act more himself, so clearly there needed to be a chance of scenery. The morning after Draco wrote to Hermione, he had kicked the two girls out of his bed and found the blond on the balcony.

"Get up, we're going further."

And this was how Draco found himself in Milan. Different girls, different inn, different bottle of Firewhiskey. The only thing that hadn't changed was Draco's inability to have fun and sleep decently. The dreams kept coming, and he found himself staying awake longer and longer. It wasn't until their third day in Italy that Blaise pulled him aside.

"The bloody hell is your problem?" He had mumbled under his breath. Draco looked at him for a moment, blinking slowly before deciding to put his friend to the test.

"If I told you that I had wings once, what would you think?"

"...don't be a prat, Draco. I'm doing this for you, you know."

And that was that.

The third night found Draco alone with a tattered notebook, a bottle of Firewhiskey, and a girl asleep in his bed. Blaise and the others they'd met were out, and though he had a companion, Draco realized he'd never felt so alone.

The arrival of Hermione's owl was rather perfect timing, actually, and he startled the poor creature by almost violently ripping the letter from its beak. He took a deep breath and calmed himself, giving the bird a treat and patting it on the head. It was a long flight between the countries, after all. As he read her letter he couldn't help but shake his head. Right. Right. Granger had been older than him then, and she was older than him now. How could he have possibly forgotten something like that? Freeing his arm from under the Italian girl, he sat up and ripped a piece of notebook paper out, forming his letter on that instead.

All right, all right. You've a point with that one, I forgot. Gryffindor 1, Slytherin 0.

...he didn't like the fact that the boys didn't seem to remember though, and actually, it was a bit frustrating. He had saved their arses and they couldn't bother to remember? Honestly.

They never were the brightest. Though I wonder if it really is you and I alone...Longbottom and Lovegood wouldn't remember, would they? I can't exactly be the one to ask them. You understand.

It's probably best to let her out at least now and then. Isn't that something you told me once? ...if you really want the truth, I haven't been happy enough to even think about Padfoot. He'll probably stay hidden for a while. Can you imagine what my family would say if they knew I could cast one? It'd be even worse if they knew what his name was.

...then what are we doing? That was the real question he had. If she had things to say, and he had things to say, why didn't they ever say them? Why weren't they saying them now? Draco already knew the answer to that. Life went on. Everything had changed. They couldn't keep living in their own little corner of the world, as much as he would have liked that.

Think the good might be gone, Granger. I don't know what this is, but it doesn't feel good.

He didn't care to elaborate on that. Let her wrap her brain around that for a while. If she was anything like the girl he remembered, she was analyzing his every word anyway. Let her figure out if he meant in the physical or mental sense. With another treat and another pet, he sent the owl on its way with his letter back to her.

He had to give the bird credit. It was getting rather good at finding him.

[loyalotter]

Hermione's days were spent with trying to keep Harry and Ron company, researching everything she needed to in order to help the Ministry get back on its feet. Eventually, she made it over to the Burrow for a few nights, needing the distraction from the tension in her house. It was odd, knowing that her parents had a year to adjust to and a lot to take in with regard to what she'd been doing, and she knew they needed space as much as she did, but a part of her was terrified they would disappear while she was gone.

Five days after she'd sent her last letter, she received the response, taking it from her owl in the middle of the day.

"What's that?" Ron asked as she tucked the letter into a pocket.

"A letter," she answered, heading upstairs to the room she shared with Ginny. Fortunately, Ginny was out for the day, so she had the room to herself for now.

"From who? Viktor?"

It was almost cute the way he was so jealous and completely wrong. "Yes, actually," she lied, deciding to go with it. "Oh don't look at me like that. He's just a friend."

Leaving Ron's scowling face behind her, she scurried upstairs to read it, her heart hammering. She knew who it was from and she didn't want anyone around her when she read it. His words brought a whole host of emotions to her and she sighed softly as her owl jumped up on its perch again, waiting patiently for her to finish. She didn't actually get to writing a response until that night, when she took him and the letter down to the sitting room after everyone else had fallen asleep. She made a cup of tea and sat down on the couch to write a response.

Luna might not remember, but she'd accept it anyway. I'll try asking her when I see her again.

I know, but I haven't had the chance yet. There's so much going on. I had to find my parents and help Harry and Ron... Now we're all trying to decide what to do about Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall has been named Headmistress and Kingsley's the Minister of Magic. It's all wonderful, but it's a mess.

She paused after that, with her quill hanging over the parchment so that a small inkblot appeared before she started writing again.

They don't need to know unless you want them to. She wanted to ask if they could send Terri and Padfoot to play sometime, but that would probably be too forward for the moment. Their friendship needed to rebuild after everything that had happened during the war and the final battle at Hogwarts.

I don't know, but what I do know is that the good is never truly gone from a person. I believe it's still there. You just have to find it again.

Hermione had a feeling he meant the mental and emotional state of 'good' and that was what she offered support on. His parents could afford any kind of treatment at St. Mungo's for the other, after all.

With a soft sigh, she finished her tea, sealed the letter and gave it to her owl to take back. She'd have to use someone else's soon enough. Hers was going to be too tired after this trip.

[hisdarkmark]

Hermione's owl found Draco in another part of Italy this time, still galavanting after Blaise and slowly starting to resent his best friend for dragging him along. On the other hand? Much, much better than being home. When the owl arrived, Blaise snatched the letter first, holding it up and trying to peer inside the envelope. Draco merely monitored, giving the bird a treat and immediately sending it out before Blaise caught on.

"Since when did you start receiving fanmail?" the other boy joked, turning the letter in his hands. His only response was a snort as Draco ripped it from the boy's hands.

"Didn't you know? I'm famous. Everyone wants to correspond with the Boy Who Royally Fucked Up." He received a laugh in response, followed by the inquiring eyes that tracked the letter's every movement.

"So. Are you going to open it, or am I?"

"You've no reason to, Blaise. There are just some words you shouldn't read." And with that Draco got up, heading out of their room at the newest inn and moving toward the street. He waited all of five seconds after hitting the sidewalk before ripping the envelope open, reading the contents of the letter.

...so that's how it was now. McGonagall was in charge, and the do-gooder brigade was in full swing to get the school back to its prestige. Had Draco considered going back to Hogwarts? Sure, of course he had. Was he going to? That was still up for debate.

It was the last sentence that stuck with him, haunting him as he continued wandering the streets. Easy for her to say. Finding it again wasn't going to be something he could accomplish overnight. Hell, he'd be lucky if he could accomplish it in a year at this rate.

He stopped at a café nearby to finally respond. He wasn't going to make her wait days this time. Again came a ripped piece of notebook paper and he only had a pen rather than a quill. Time to blend in, he supposed.

Ask her. Ask her, because I'm willing to bet that even Loony Luna wouldn't be able to make this all up.

A wonderful mess. We're a bit too familiar with those, aren't we? Well. So what do you mean trying to decide? It has to be rebuilt, doesn't it? How is that such a hard decision? ...you three are returning when classes are in session again, aren't you? I know you, Granger, you won't settle for less.

They'll find out whether I want them to or not. At this rate? I wasn't joking when I said I was a prisoner in my own home. Mother and Father keep too close of an eye on me, and the public as well. I'd rather not give any of them an advantage to use it against me. Not to say my family would, but...it wouldn't end well, I'm sure. Even after everything, I'm sure.

And how do you suggest I find such a thing? A tracking charm won't suffice, I'm afraid.

...look. I don't know if I can ever be the same as I was. Are you the same? I doubt it.

...I'll be back in England next week. London, actually. Not entirely in the mood to return to Wiltshire just yet.

And he closed there because what was he doing? If he didn't know himself better, he'd almost think that were an invitation, a bit of bait to see if she'd follow him. It was blasphemy is what it was, but he didn't cross out the words like he'd wanted to. Instead, before he could change his mind, he sealed up the letter. He frowned a bit at the ring his cup of coffee had left on the page but left the café for the nearest post station. This owl had to go out immediately.

[loyalotter]

Hermione was doing more of the same, clean-up duty, when Draco's next letter found her. This time she opened it far from Ron's scowling face, preferring not to see his jealousy when she read the thing and replied.

Maybe not, but she'd believe it. You know she would.

Perhaps, but we've gotten out of every last one, if you recall. It's hard to give up after traveling through someone's mind with them. - and yes, I am. You know me well by now. It's not so much that we have to decide on how to rebuild it, but it's when and if it ought to be exactly the same and what to do about the staff, who's coming back, how many students will come back, how many parents will let them... It's a lot to do and Professor McGonagall's got a lot to deal with.

I suppose that's smart. It's better in the long run.

That's something you'll have to figure out for yourself. I can't even try to help.

She didn't even reply to the next part. No, she wasn't exactly the same, but she was still the same person inside. Who she was would never change. Not that drastically.

She did, however, quickly give the name and location of a cafe, not the one she'd gotten ambushed by Snatchers in, on the Muggle end of London. No one in our world will find us there, nor will the Muggles care about us. It's safe.

Invitation or no, she'd taken it as such. Better somewhere on her side of the playground, so to speak, than somewhere like Diagon Alley or the Leaky Cauldron, where everyone and his brother would recognize them.

[hisdarkmark]

Her letter was a lot to take in, to be honest. He hadn't realized that so much work would have to go back into the school, but the longer he thought about it, the more he realized it was actually fairly obvious. For a while he held onto her letter, debating if he needed to address any of it.

Of course, he had to address the fact that she had basically scouted out a safe meeting place for them.

He waited until he and Blaise were back in England, once again following his friend around the streets of Wizarding London. He had to be crafty if he wanted to figure out how to split off from his colleague and disappear into the Muggle end of the city. Granted, he was Draco. Crafty was his specialty. Another quick stop at the post office in the Wizarding end gave him enough time to scrawl a short message to send along to the girl. He could only hope she'd receive it in time.

Late. Nine o'clock, perhaps.

It would give him enough time to not only ensure she'd receive the message, but also distract Blaise from seeing where he was heading.

By the time eight-thirty came 'round, he found himself in a pub with Blaise and a few of his accomplices, and really, Draco was starting to wonder just how Blaise knew all of these people.

"I ought to go. I've errands to attend before we leave."

"Stay for another round," Blaise argued, attempting to pull him back down into his seat.

"I'll be back later." And without another word Draco yanked himself free, apparating out of the pub to a few feet from the Muggle end of the city. He had to act normal now, didn't he? That shouldn't be too difficult, given his experience living among them. Adjusting his tie and making sure he was presentable enough, he began to walk toward the address Hermione had given him. He just had to hope she'd be there waiting for him.

[loyalotter]

Draco was lucky; she got it in plenty of time. Her preparations were small, tucking a few things into her handbag and telling Harry and Ron that she was going out with her parents and her parents that she was spending the evening with Harry and Ron - she'd face the consequences of that lie later. Once she was ready, she Apparated out to an alley by the cafe and strode inside.

She'd already claimed a table and was waiting for him when he arrived, looking up as the door opened. It was a small cafe, but she'd chosen a booth in the corner, out of the way of the main stream, where they wouldn't be over heard. Her hands were wrapped around a cappuccino and she was looking around nervously. On the table was her handbag, her signature possession at this point.

She had no reason to be nervous. But she was. She was very nervous.

[hisdarkmark]

As he entered the cafe, his eyes immediately wandered to do a brief sweep of the area. He stepped in further, analyzing each table and booth until his gaze stopped on that signature handbag. He stopped walking briefly, eyes moving up from the bag to the girl's hands and then to her face.

This was it, then. He couldn't exactly turn around and run off, could he? Lifting his head a bit higher, he strode toward the booth and stood by the side of the table, a bit stiff. It might have been evident to her if she was looking close enough that he was uncertain, tired and a bit wary, but he was also a bit relieved to find her sitting there. It wasn't a dream. It wasn't a joke. This was actually happening for him.

"You didn't happen to order one of those for me, did you, Granger?"

[loyalotter]

When she saw him, she slowly stood, nervously watching as he walked closer. He looked the same, sounded the same, acted the same. In some respects he was the same. But he was also quite different. They both were. She took a deep breath and offered a small smile.

"No, but it's not hard to get one if you'd like a cup."

She couldn't really believe it was happening, either, and part of her wanted to throw her arms around him and hug him, but she knew that would just make things worse. They needed to take this slowly. If it wouldn't have gotten her into trouble for performing magic around Muggles, she would have brought Terri out. As it was, she just motioned for a server to come take his order and sat back down in her chair.

[hisdarkmark]

He watched as the waiter behind them approached and he took a seat before ordering a cappuccino for himself. Once he shooed the server away, he leaned back, watching Hermione closely.

"Hope you weren't waiting for me long."

[loyalotter]

"Only a few minutes, really."

She hated this, hated having to dance around things, their friendship, just because of the war and what it had brought down on them since they'd last really spoken. It was stupid.

"How've you been?"

She was watching him closely, trying to judge how this meeting would go. The fact that her wand wasn't in sight said enough about how much caution she was throwing to the wind here. She wanted him to know that the trust was still there, despite what had happened in the Room of Requirement.

[hisdarkmark]

In Draco's opinion, it was better to dance around things than launch right into everything like it was normal. Nothing was normal anymore; nothing was the same as it had been the last time they'd really spoken.

It was for protection, really.

"Is that a real question?" He couldn't help but ask, a lopsided grin overtaking his lips. "It's been...interesting these last few months. Mother and Father are trying to renovate the Manor after our lovely houseguests left it a complete wreck, but you can imagine how hard it's been getting anyone to come near the place." He was rambling. He knew he was rambling, and he knew that she knew he was. Was it his fault he was stalling?

...well, yes, it was. But he had to test boundaries and this was the best way to do it. Don't think he didn't notice the fact she was sitting unarmed. It was rather interesting in retrospective, seeing how after everything that had happened she should be wary. It was enough to lower his guard just a fraction.

"And you? How are things?"

[loyalotter]

"I ought to apologise for that," Hermione murmured, wincing slightly at the comment about the Manor being a wreck still. She, Harry, and Ron had had at least something to do with that. It was their fault things had gone badly in the second half of the year, after all. "And it was a real question. I'm allowed to be concerned."

And she was, honestly, but it was hard for the both of them to show that concern, especially when they were still testing out the limitations of a friendship that had once been so strong. Her foot was kicking nervously under the table, but she made sure to keep it away from his legs.

"They're all right. I found my parents just after the war ended." She couldn't remember if she'd explained to him what she'd had to do to them or not, but if not, she would now. "And things with Hogwarts have been going all right."

[hisdarkmark]

"Why for? I highly doubt you had anything to do with the Dark Lord taking up residence," he sighed, leaning back in his seat. He idly noticed the server approach with his cappuccino, nodding his thanks once the cup was set down. "I know, I know. Sometimes you're more concerned than I can even understand." But his tone's light, almost appreciative. At least someone still cared.

It was all very iffy for him, to be honest. It was hard to tell if even Blaise cared sometimes, but there was something in the way Hermione was presenting herself that made Draco pause and analyze her actions. In all their time as friends, had she ever proven herself to be anything less than concerned for his well-being? Even after all of the fighting with Harry and Ron, she still was concerned with how he was holding up, wasn't she? Why should this time be different?

Oh. Right. Because everything was different...or maybe that's just want he wanted to believe for now.

"...how far did they go?" She had vaguely told him, but he had never asked for details. He never felt it was his place to ask. "With the restoration project...what have you lot decided recently?"

[loyalotter]

"No, but we didn't make it any easier when the Snatchers brought us there," she answered, watching him carefully. "You sound surprised." And she almost sounded surprised that he was surprised. Really, he ought to be used to the way her mind worked by now. She always cared, no matter what or who it was.

"They were in Australia, right where I left them." Her expression was a little difficult to read, some combination of gratitude and pain that twisted her mouth just a little until she ducked her head and sipped at her cappuccino. "Nothing more than what I told you already. We're going to hold classes in September, as usual, for all those who want to attend..." She let out a small laugh. "I say 'we' as though I'm involved in it. Really, I'm not. It's all Professor McGonagall's doing at the moment. She and Kingsley are working together to put the- our world back together."

She caught herself just in time to avoid letting too much slip in the presence of Muggles. She wasn't too worried about being overheard, but it couldn't hurt to be cautious.

[hisdarkmark]

"Because that was entirely your fault," he couldn't help but chide, but he knew better than to argue with her. Usually he lost after a while anyway. "...I guess after all of this time, I am, a bit. I shouldn't be, but I am. Bit foolish, isn't it?"

He picked up a spoon, stirring his drink a bit as he hummed in thought. "Do they remember everything now, or is it still all a process?" His fingers drummed idly on the table as he listened, the wheels in his head turning as she described the plans for Hogwarts. "Kingsley's the new Minister, right? Are we in good hands? I know nothing about it. Call me careless, but I haven't been keeping up with the news as of late." If only to avoid reading yet another tabloid about his family.

He glanced over his shoulder, making sure they actually weren't being overheard.

"Actually, I'm surprised there hasn't been more news about you three in the Prophet."

[loyalotter]

"We could've been more careful." Probably smart, considering who she was. She was quite stubborn when it really came down to it. "I suppose it could be, but after everything we've been through, I can't blame you, really." And she couldn't. Their lives had changed drastically several times. It was foolish to think everything would be exactly the same.

"They remember. I took the Memory Charm off, so they've got their memories back as it was more a modification of their memories rather than me completely wiping them." She took another sip, using the time to gather herself. "I wouldn't blame you. Yes, we're in the best hands we can be with Dumbledore gone and Professor McGonagall as headmistress. Kingsley will have the best interests of both the Wizarding World and the Muggles in mind at all times. I trust him." And that said a lot, considering she hadn't trusted Scrimgeour or Fudge.

"I'm not. We've been trying to stay low for now. Harry's trying to rest and Mrs. Weasley has been doting on him since we got back."

[hisdarkmark]

"The Snatchers probably would have caught on either way, sorry to tell you. They were a bit too greedy not to be at the top of their game." Oh, he knew just how stubborn she was. That was one part he hadn't forgotten in their time apart. "I'm glad you can still see the logic in things. Another reassurance that you haven't changed that much."

He still wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to trust a new Minister, and he had his own mixed feelings about McGonagall running Hogwarts, but he knew better than to share them immediately. How was he supposed to say that he doubted McGonagall would let him start over? He couldn't.

"But will the Muggles have our best interest in mind at all times? That's the true question here, given everything. Face it, Hermione, it's going to be a lot of gray area for at least the next decade while we sort through the mess the Da--Voldemort left behind."

A snort. "Why am I not surprised?" He murmured to himself. "...has Mrs. Weasley been doting on you and her offspring as well?"

[loyalotter]

"I suppose so," she sighed anyway, swirling the contents of her cup around for a moment. "I don't think you would have agreed to meet me if I'd changed that much."

It was hard to detail what exactly was in her voice. She wasn't even sure she understood it. It was strange, to be sure, that they were talking so freely and easily, but she was glad. She just wanted things to be back to the way they were. She missed his friendship.

"Why is that the question?" She was honestly curious why he was thinking of Muggles at a time like this. "Most still don't know we exist, Draco. That's the way it's always been."

One of her eyebrows rose as she looked at him. "Naturally. At least she's not keeping us separated with useless tasks anymore." That had been the worst.

[hisdarkmark]

"...you're absolutely right. I wouldn't have. And you knew that, didn't you?" He couldn't help but give a small genuine grin. She was at the top of her game, too, it seemed.

And really it was actually rather relaxing to be sitting across a table from Hermione Jean Granger, drinking coffee and chatting as thought it were the most normal thing in the world. Once upon a time it had been the most normal thing in the world. He knew his parents would be furious if they realized who he had on his side but at the moment Draco wasn't thinking about his reputation or what his family would say. He had given that up a while ago.

"It's a question because I--" He cut himself off, trying to think of how to elaborate on what he was thinking. "Some know that we exist, don't they? Aren't they going to judge based on the events of the last year? How are we to know we can actually keep things under wraps? The Death Eaters brought attention to the Muggle world before, you know." It was a thinly veiled version of what he was thinking. Someone may or may not have been thinking about trying to find some Muggles he knew lived on Earth that he had been close to once.

Again he grinned. Honestly? "Honestly?" He voiced his thoughts. "Did she honestly think separating you two would stop you from being together? We've all known since we were children, Hermione. I think everyone but Weasley himself knew."

Which was a shame, in his opinion. What a waste of time. If Ron Weasley hadn't been that stupid and didn't waste a whole year with Lavender Brown...but he didn't dare bring that up. It wasn't exactly his place anyway.

Or was it? He still wasn't sure what boundaries he had and didn't have with the girl across from him, but he knew better than to push her luck just yet.

[loyalotter]

"I'd like to say I know you fairly well by now," Hermione answered, her own smile turning a tad bit teasing.

He would always have her on his side, unless he did something monumentally stupid. Even then, she would always remember the kind heart he had buried underneath and mourn the loss of her friend. Perhaps she wouldn't let go even then. It was hard to say.

She waited for him to continue, turning over her own answer in her head before she gave it. "Some, yes, though they usually have ties to the Wizarding World in some form. Most Muggles block it all out of their own memories, even before the Ministry can get there with a Memory Charm. They can't understand or believe what's happened to them, so they accept it as a nightmare and ignore it, pretend it never happened. That's how we'll survive."

That made her snort with laughter and duck her head as her cheeks reddened. "She seemed to. And it wasn't just us. Harry was there, too, and somehow she kept us all separated. She wanted to be sure we wouldn't go running off to fight Voldemort. You can see how well that worked." As in not at all. And she wasn't even addressing the comment about her relationship status with Ron, at least not now. It was too embarrassing and she wasn't sure she wanted to alienate Draco so soon after she'd gotten him to relax. Oddly enough, if he did decide to bring up the Lavender issue, he'd be the only person she'd be willing to talk to about it.

[hisdarkmark]

"Should I be worried about what sort of blackmail you can instill upon me?" He knew she was joking, but there was still a part of him that really did wonder such a thing.

He hummed in response, weighing that answer for a moment. "You mean to tell me we're going to survive because they lack imagination. Quite rich if you ask me, but I'll take what I can get at this point." He paused then, giving her another glance. "...what about Muggles that had seen magic right before their eyes for years? Think they'd choose to ignore it as well?"

It was his turn to laugh at her expression. "You'd think she'd know you three well enough by now to know you're all known for running right off into the face of danger." He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow though. He wasn't sure how far to dig still, how far he was allowed to prod at Hermione and Ron, but there was another question he had on his mind.

"...how's Harry?"