Archive of Our Own

Across state lines

-So as to transcend boundaries or barriers

“Been here long?” Harry whispered to her. Hermione jumped, dropping the files in her hands.

“What? Oh, no. Just- just wanted to get ahead of the paperwork before the weekend.” She muttered, quickly stuffing the papers back into her folder. Harry gave her a quizzical look.

“Hermione, Kingsley’s lifted all deadlines. You know… because of the-”

“I know that,” she said shortly, fingers gripping the edge of the table a little tightly. “But I just- these papers don’t do themselves, Harry. You know that. And anyways, the event will be over this afternoon, there’s no use letting it take up my morning either.”

Harry bit back a sigh and nodded. Hermione wasn’t easy to reason with. Instead he pulled away, eyeing the teetering stack of papers on his desk, too. Being an Auror involved a massive paper trail he hadn’t been prepared for, and he couldn’t blame her for wanting to get through the work faster. But he did wonder briefly about how she’d taken in the news, and if burying herself in the work was her way of coping with the collective grief their office shared.

“Do you want to apparate together to the-”

“I might actually go for a walk first,” she cut in immediately, reaching for her satchel and wand. “I have a few errands to run before the service starts. But you can go ahead, Harry. I can just find a nearby Floo or something.”

“Right.” Harry nodded, sensing that the conversation was over. “See you there, then.”

“See you, Harry.”

He figured, as he closed the door behind the Auror offices, that Hermione was doing what she did best.

She was avoiding the situation.

-

She had made it about three steps away from the apparition point before collapsing on the nearest bench. Already, her chest was heaving, and her eyes were brimming with tears. She had dug her fingernails so deep into her palms that she was starting to bleed, but she paid the pain no attention. There was something worse gnawing at her insides, writhing like a monster swallowing her whole. It was grief, unlike any she had known before.

Hermione was accustomed to loss. It weaved in out of her life like a serpent, taking what she loved most. Her friends. Her parents. Her colleagues.

She just never expected it to take Draco.

Her tears made dark grey spots on the stone bench as she wept, fighting the howls coming from her chest. She had tried to prepare herself for today, but no amount of calming draughts and potions numbed the pain. Instead, she felt hollow, like someone had taken the light from inside her and promptly snuffed it out.

Harry had most certainly noticed the difference in her demeanor when he’d seen her at the offices. She had done her best to pretend she was going through mundane paperwork, but in reality she was rifling through Draco’s memos- funny notes and often scandalizing messages they passed back and forth through the inter-office memo system. At the time, she didn’t know why she kept them, but now that her most beloved pen pal was gone, she felt thankful. Draco lived on in his words, but it still hurt her to think that she was never again going to get another letter filled with his wit that would make her laugh.

She looked up from her lap and found that everything around her had been reduced to grey. The gardens at Iford Manor were a favorite of hers, and was memorable because as Draco had put it, it was “alive with color”. It was such a great contrast to the darkness of the Manor, and a perfect haunt for the two lovers who wanted nothing more than to bask in each others’ existence in solitude. When it became difficult to meet in secret, he would meet her at one of the lesser used apparition points at the Ministry and whisk her away to the gardens, equipped with a basket of food to munch on and books to pore over.

Draco had always been so attentive. Even when he was still Malfoy to her, she had a sense there was something to him that had a knack for details. And when later on, she noticed that he had a sensible and routine way of doing his tie, and that on Thursdays he preferred to dress in linen button downs, she realized she was right.

“You know, you’re a creature of habit.”

“Am I? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Mm, but I have.” she said, smiling behind her cup of coffee. They were in his home in London, enjoying a quiet breakfast together. She was dressed in his shirt from the night before, legs crossed underneath her as she watched him deftly make them omelettes without magic.

That was another thing she hadn’t expected- he knew how to cook.

In fact, he turned out to be more knowledgeable about Muggle life than she’d given him credit for. At the very least, he didn’t ogle at televisions, and he knew how to go to the movies.

“What are my routines then, if you’ve so carefully picked them up?”

“It’s always three sugars in your coffee with you. No cream. As soon as you wake up and we’re in the same bed, you kiss me. Morning breath be damned. And you, as I’ve managed to catch, spend a lot of time staring at me before you really get up. Then when you do get up, you make the bed. At least your side of it. And then at work you deal with memos first before anything else. You stack in your incoming papers on the left side of your desk-”

“I’m left-handed, Granger,” he chuckled as he plated their breakfasts.

“I’m aware, but that doesn’t explain why you rearranged your files when Harry carelessly dumped outgoing papers on the left-hand side of your desk.” She said rather swottily.

Draco raised a brow at her, but nodded. “Keep going.”

“And on Thursdays, you always wear linen button downs. Like that cream one I love so much.”

“Ah yes, the one you always steal?” he teased, pouring her a fresh cup of coffee.

“Mhm,” she nodded, grinning at him. “And as soon as we get home, you never fail to kiss my forehead. On the dot, I might add.”

He laughed as he sat in front of her, taking his own cup of coffee in his hands. “Well, I’m so glad you pay so much attention to my daily routine, Granger. You’re clearly obsessed with me.”

She shrugged, smiling cheekily at him. “There’s no one else, I’d rather be obsessed with.”

“Agreed, Granger. If I could spend my entire life looking at you, I would.”

It hurt her to think that she would no longer catch Draco staring at her from his table in the office, or that he wouldn’t instinctively reach for her hand before she apparated to work. As she surveyed the gardens, her eyes glazed over with tears, Hermione had the distinct feeling that the world was going to look like this for a while.

Grey and dull, and empty.

-

Her fingers were already trembling as she stepped out of the Manor’s fireplace. It was a little past the hour the service was supposed to start, so she quickly made her way to the manor’s ballroom, ignoring the way her heels clacked against the floor. She squeezed her eyes shut as she made it past the heavily bolted doors of the drawing room, fighting back the images of her ordeal from years ago. She took a deep breath before placing her hand on the door’s pearl handles, steadying herself for the moment, but then it swung without warning. Ginny’s head popped out from the space, eyes wide at her.

“Hermione, thank Merlin! We thought you weren’t going to show- are you okay?” Her voice suddenly became tainted with worry as she took in the sight of Hermione’s flushed cheeks.

“I’m fine,” she lied through her teeth. “I was just rushing. Has it started?”

“Just about to. Come on in then, it’s a bit of a squeeze-” Ginny pushed the door open further to let her in. She managed to get in through the gap and found that the redhead was right. The place was packed. Guided by Ginny’s hand on her sleeve, she managed to find a space near the back against the wall that wasn’t too occupied. From her spot, she could see a multitude of personalities from the Ministry gathered solemnly towards the front, along with a handful of faces she recognized were his Slytherin friends. Closer to the front too, she saw Narcissa, clad in her usual black, her face looking extremely solemn.

She looked away. He had always spoken so fondly of Narcissa, recounting that she’d fervently defended him in the face of everyone that had tried to bring their family down. Narcissa, as he’d said, was fearless even in front of Voldemort too, when it came to protecting him.

“I just don’t understand how they hadn’t discovered it sooner,” Ginny muttered to her.

“Hm?” she replied, a little dazed from the view.

“The blood curse. I mean surely they would have had the means to detect it sooner. They’re swimming in Galleons. Not to mention they live in a house full of dark artefacts. Surely that wouldn’t have slipped past them?”

“Malfoy doesn’t live here.” She said quietly, searching the crowd for other faces. She spotted Pansy standing next to Theo, holding his hand rather tightly. Blaise was among them too. In front, there was no casket, just a raised platform.

“How do you know that?” Ginny blinked, her mouth hanging a little bit open. “I always thought he lived with his parents.”

“I-I had to drop off some files months ago. We had a case together. He lives in a flat in London.”

“Muggle London? But how-”

“He doesn’t hate muggles, Ginny. He knows how to live with them. Rather well, actually.”

Ginny continued to stare at her in disbelief. “How do you know so much about-” but she never got to continue her question. Narcissa stood up and walked towards the platform, pointing her wand to her throat.

“Sonorus,” she said, and her voice boomed over the crowd instantly.

“Good afternoon. I hate to have to stand in front of you today, welcoming you to my home like this but my son has always praised me for being such a gracious host, so…” she began, her voice wavering a little. Hermione could sense the hurt in her voice. “Welcome.”

“My son… wasn’t known to you in the best circumstances. Admittedly when he was younger, we lived in a different world. A prejudiced one. And even though he has certainly spent the rest of his adult life eradicating that prejudice, he would have hated for me to erase the truth. He was a git.”

A soft laughter rose from the crowd, but Hermione did not laugh. It was too much for her. So instead, she closed her eyes, fighting the tears that were threatening to flow.

“He had loved Hogwarts, like most of us did. And even though we tried to lure him back to us with winter vacations and splendid summers, he belonged there. His heart was tied to the place.”

“ Not to be weird Granger, but I did pay an awful lot of attention to you at school.”

“Were you attracted to me?” she blinked, twisting around in his arms to look at him.

“Gods no, not then. I was annoyed with you. You were… everywhere. Besting me in classes, beating me to the answers even though I already knew them. At least I had my advantage in potions. You were horrible at that.”

“I was not horrible at potions! Snape was just biased and he didn’t bother to hide it!”

“No Granger, you were terrible. You demolished your asphodel roots and there was this one time in Slughorn’s class where you crushed the foxglove with the butt of your knife when the instructions said to bruise it- it was hilarious, and I was laughing for days.”

“Well I’m glad I was amusing to you, but that was an accident. I never meant to be so heavy handed. And besides, I did improve.”

“Mm, true. What would I ever do if you weren’t good with your hands?”

“And although I have to admit his history at Hogwarts was tainted by malice, he made more friends there than he ever knew what to do with. And from there I can say that he did eventually grow up graciously into society.”

“If I have to go to another ball, I’m going to have to poke my eyes out.”

“But you’re an awfully good dancer, Malfoy. And I love the way you look in your dress robes.” She smiled, pulling him closer to adjust the shoulders of his robes. There were golden threads in his navy blue robes that matched her own dress, subtle allusions to the way they devoted themselves to each other.

“Don’t you mean you love the way I look without my robes on?” he teased, raising a brow as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Shut up, Malfoy. I’m trying to be nice!”

“You do look nice. You always look nice, Granger. If that’s not enough reason to not poke my eyes out, I don’t know what is.”

“I wish I could dance with you tonight,” she sighed, tracing the outlines of his cheek with her fingertips. He turned his head and kissed them gently, smiling into her hand.

“I’ll dance your feet off as soon as we get back.”

“You better, Malfoy.”

“Draco has always had more foresight into things than I or Lucius have. As most of you know he kept a low profile after the war. We didn’t. My husband and I took great care repairing everything we had ever damaged, and Lucius stayed true to that until his death. Draco… in Lucius’ opinion was gallivanting, taking on these so-called apprenticeships and whatnot. But I knew what he was really doing, and I had a feeling it was going to lead to something bigger than what we had envisioned for him. I ended up being right.”

“ So Egypt and then…?” she trailed off, studying his face in the dim light of the moon.

“Morocco.” He said softly, placing a hand on her thigh. She swallowed, determined not to be distracted by the absent circles he was drawing on her skin.

“For the apprenticeship in alchemy?”

“Mm,” he nodded, studying the divot close to her hip bone. “Nasty stuff if you ask me. I spent most of my time burying my head in books. There was less lab work. I’d expected more from that apprenticeship, really.”

“Which one did you like best?”

“The one in Geneva,” he murmured, trailing his fingers over the expanse of her waist before gently pushing her down onto the bed and positioning himself above her.

“A-and why is that?”

“The weather. The scenery. The food. And it’s quiet there.” he whispered, lowering himself to trail kisses on her abdomen. Hermione tried to breathe, but she was already squirming, clenching her fists into the sheets of his bed.

“It must have been beautiful.”

“It was.” he hummed, nipping the top of her thigh until her skin bloomed purple. “I’ll take you sometime.” he smirked devilishly, before disappearing beneath the sheets.

“Let it be known that we never wanted Draco to become an Auror. But he did it anyways, walking straight into Kingsley’s office with his credentials and his name and reputation. I never thought he would get in, to be honest. But against his better judgment Kingsley hired him and for that Minister, I will forever be grateful. If there was one thing he loved more than Quidditch it was his job. He spoke so fondly of it, and of his colleagues. I know all of you from your days at Hogwarts,” Narcissa said softly, looking over the crowd at the group of Aurors. “And to me, you will always be important. Thank you for welcoming Draco so warmly into your fold.”

“Kingsley’s just shot himself in the foot, I’m telling you he’s a no good-”

“Who?” she blinked as she walked into the office. Ron and Harry were deep in conversation over at Harry’s table, ignoring the folded paper airplanes hanging in the air above them. Hermione sighed, waving the memos away with her wand. “Who could possibly be more important than these memos? They’re practically buzzing to be opened.”

“Malfoy, that’s who.” Ron said disdainfully. “Kingsley’s hired him.”

“As what?”

“As an Auror!” he said indignantly. “Can you believe it?! Apparently he passed the tests and all- and he’s got all these apprenticeships to his name but I mean that’s Malfoy! He can weasel his way through anything-”

“Ron let’s not be hasty,” said Harry. “It’s been a few years, you never really know. Maybe he’s changed. Besides, he did help us out that one time when-”

“That’s a load of bull and I wouldn’t be surprised if-”

“Surprised if what, Weasley?” a deep voice boomed. Hermione turned to look at the door.

Draco Malfoy was standing at the threshold, holding a box of his belongings. To say he was a sight was putting it lightly. Hermione became vaguely aware of the fact that her throat had gone dry. Malfoy had certainly become accustomed to his height. His shoulders were broader and yet he had retained the seeker fit from all those years ago. He was more of a man than a scrawny boy, and his face too was chiseled, sharp around the jaw and cheekbones. His eyes seemed sharper and clearer too, piercing silver orbs underneath a shade of dark blonde lashes. The only thing that really changed was his hair, still the same startling shade of Malfoy blonde, but with a tinge to it that suggested he had spent some time in the sun.

Ron scowled visibly, ignoring his question.

“Welcome to the team, Malfoy.” Harry said, standing up and extending a hand as Malfoy came into the office. “Table in the corner is yours. Go and get settled, there’s a meeting in 30 minutes.”

Hermione held her breath, waiting for Malfoy to accept Harry’s hand. They weren’t exactly the best of friends, and if Malfoy declined, it would set a horrible precedent for all of them. To her surprise however, Malfoy accepted Harry’s hand and gave it a firm shake.

“Got it.”

Ron gave him another scowl before turning on his heel and leaving. Harry meanwhile, smiled graciously at Hermione, mouthed “he’ll get over it” and then turned to leave too. She tried not to stare at Malfoy’s back as he set his things on his table but it was difficult not to. She felt like she was staring at someone entirely new.

“Boring holes into my head, Granger?” he muttered, righting a paperweight on his desk. She jumped a little. She didn’t think he had noticed.

“Just trying to figure you out,” she said honestly, reaching for a memo that was buzzing right by her ear. It was from Susan Bones. There were contracts she needed to revise at the DMLE.

“Nothing to figure out. I don’t have some hidden agenda.”

“Don’t you? You always do.” She said rather snarkily, quickly scribbling a reply before grabbing the next memo above her head.

“Believe it or not Granger, I’m just here to track down dark wizards and reply to memos.” he replied sarcastically.

“Well then you’re in luck,” she sighed as she scribbled a reply to Justin Finch-Fletchley. She wasn’t available for lunch on Thursday, or on any other day for that matter.

“There are a ton of memos and a ton of dark wizards.”

“They didn’t die out after the war?” he asked, sounding thoroughly surprised. Hermione flicked at the other memos, indicating she would reply to them later.

“Evil doesn’t die out, Malfoy. It stays. It roots around and sticks.” she said rather bitterly before turning away from him to leave. If she was going to have to talk about dark wizards with a former Death Eater, she was going to be sick. Malfoy reminded her of every bitterness in her life that had to do with the war.

Just before she reached the double doors, something sharp prodded her shoulder. She turned around to find a paper airplane buzzing quietly by her side, flapping its wings eagerly. She raised a brow at it but plucked it out of the air all the same, unfolding it.

“Evil beliefs stick around. Evil people don’t. They can change. At least let me prove that.

D.M.”

The sight of his neat script made her gasp, but before she could say anything to him, he had already walked past her, pushing the doors on his way out.

“My son’s life was short. Regrettably so. We hadn’t known about the blood curse until much later… when it was already too late. In hindsight, I should have figured it out. It’s no…” Narcissa paused, wringing her hands as she wavered. “No secret to all of you that my family has a dark past. We dabbled around in things we were never going to understand. And to find out that it would someday ruin my only son… if I could take it all back, I would. We all have pasts we wish to erase. Ours was such a dark one… I was sure there was never going to be any change for us. But Draco made sure it would have a brighter future. Which is why, even though many assumed it was some tactic to get back in society’s good graces, Draco put his heart and soul into foundations and organizations that we never would have otherwise believed in.”

“A muggle born foundation?” she blinked in disbelief. Draco was laying comfortably in her lap, eyes closed as they took in the warmth of the sunlight. The garden at Iford Manor was in full bloom, and they were sitting right underneath the shade of a beautiful wisteria tree.

“Just a thought, but if you were to consider it then everything will push through.”

“Are you telling me you’ve thought of a foundation, worked out all the red tape and societal standards, and you’re just waiting for me to say yes?”

“Granger I can’t very well go through with a foundation that has your name attached to it without asking you.”

“My name?”

“I did consider calling it the Foundation for Swotty and Haughty Muggleborns with Massive Manes, but I decided against that. Bit of a mouthful.” he smirked, opening his eyes to smile cheekily at her.

She resisted the urge to kiss him. “What’s it called then?”

“The HJG Trust. Tagline is the foundation determined to give hope, joy, and guidance to muggleborn youths in wizarding society. Less of a mouthful and with more meaning.”

There were tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. 

“My initials…”

“Disguised as mere values we hope to instill in the muggleborns to join wizarding society every year. Just a bit cheesy but still,” he supplied, bobbing his shoulder with a grin. 

“Hermione Jean Granger in plain sight.” he chuckled, seeming extremely proud of himself. “Bit talented isn’t it? And I had no help whatso-”

She wasted no time, cupping his face and planting the sweetest kiss she could on his lips.

“We will continue to support all his trusts and charities going forward.” There was a brief silence before Narcissa spoke again.

“There’s so much… so much more that he could have done. So much more that he wanted to do. But sometimes you get dealt the shorter end of the stick and you have to deal with it. He will be so dearly missed but I’m comforted in the knowledge that he had done what he always wanted to do after everything in his life crumbled. He rebuilt. I’m sure he treasures your presence here today.”

By the time Narcissa had finished, the indents on Hermione’s palms had grown deeper. She was fairly aware of the trickle of blood into her knuckles, but she didn’t care. Everything else hurt too much.

“I heard they took him abroad." A wispy witch muttered to her companion. Hermione tried to ignore them, but the stout man next to her responded a little too loudly. "Bellatrix did it. Right before she died. Called him a traitor for not carrying out the Dark Lord's wishes."

Sooner than she had hoped, she was beginning to pick up mutterings from the crowd around her. 

"It really is such a shame. I heard he was going to marry this year."

"But to have someone from the family do it… too cruel. They were always a vile kind."

"He was a child- and it didn't show signs until he was older. Bless him, the poor thing."

"Was he really as good of an Auror as they said? You know the papers publish riff raff these days."

She didn't know whether to clamp her hands over her ears or run. Ginny had stayed silent as the others milled around, making conversation. In fact she was staring rather pointedly at Hermione.

"Hermione… are you okay? You look a little faint."

She squeezed her eyes shut again. 

Focus on my voice, Granger. They're just noise. They don't matter. It's all in your head.

"All in my head…" she whispered, "You're not gone…" 

"Hermione? Should I get you a drink?" Ginny asked, placing a hand on her shoulder worriedly.

"This will take all night, Granger." He groaned, pressing his fingers onto his temple. Hermione was getting a headache too. The other offices had so carelessly compounded the case reports from the Milling's murders without considering the workload, and now she and Draco were faced with mountains of investigative reports before their site visit the next day. 

"We just have to get through it," she said firmly, opening the nearest file folder she could reach.

“No we don’t.” he retorted, evidently giving up. “I’d rather get out of here.”

She stared in disbelief as he gathered his things. “You’re not actually leaving me here to deal with all this work are you? Because if you leave me I’ll brand you a prick forever.”

“Look, Granger.” he sighed. “Is there any point? It’ll still be there in the morning. We know the facts of the Milling’s case inside out. These reports don’t do anything but rehash that. If there’s new evidence we can dig through that tomorrow. But tonight… tonight I’d rather do fuck-all.”

Hermione bit her lip. He did have a point. “Fine, but first thing tomorrow-”

“Dinner?” he asked suddenly, pulling his coat on.

“With you?” she blinked.

“No Granger, with the goblins.” he replied sarcastically. “Yes, with me.”

She hesitated. They hadn’t ever gone out for dinner let alone lunch. In general, she avoided being around Malfoy for more than work purposes. Accepting his friendly invite to dinner felt like crossing some unknown boundary.

"Come on Granger, I don't bite."

She still hesitated, clutching the folder in her hands a little too tightly. Draco took notice and shrugged. 

"Fine. I see prejudices still run deep in your Ministry."

"Malfoy that wasn't-"

"Don't lie, Granger. I am what I am to you. I was a fool to think a friendly offering would change that."

He was walking now, gathering his satchel and turning to leave. She had tried hard to balance the peace among the Aurors when Draco had arrived. She didn't have a clue why she'd done it, she didn't like him after all. But she did believe Harry somehow. And now Malfoy was trying to prove Harry right. So why wasn't she accepting his offer?

"Alright fine- Malfoy, don't leave!" She nearly shouted, jogging to catch up with him. He turned abruptly, levelling her with an icy stare. 

"I'll have dinner with you."

"Well that was… is Hermione alright?" Harry's voice punctuated the air. Ginny shook her head. 

"I think she's feeling a little faint. Get her a drink."

"I'm fine," Hermione said through gritted teeth. But she very clearly wasn't. She was swaying on her feet, fighting the nausea setting in. There was a palpable din to the room as Narcissa made her way around, and she couldn't do anything to tune out the flow of conversation.

"So sorry for your loss, Narcissa. He was a brilliant man."

"His connections in Geneva, had they tried looking into alchemy?"

"He's done so much for our foundation. He designed the latest plans for the apprenticeship program for 7th year students."

Harry sighed. "They shouldn't be doing that, speculating about his death."

"Well it was a blood curse wasn't it? By Bellatrix." Ron's voice drifted through Hermione's ears. 

She was mad, that one. Mad enough to curse her own. I never liked Malfoy but he didn't-"

"Stop!" She seethed, her eyes flying open to glare at Ron. "Just- just stop talking about how he died or who did it. You don't even know the whole story!"

Ron stared at her in shock, his hand tightening around the bottle he was holding. "And… you do?"

Hermione stuttered. Her chest was beginning to tighten. Ron's tone seemed accusing all of a sudden, like he was prodding at the secret she'd been keeping.

"I… I just think-" she stammered, “that we shouldn’t talk about things we don’t know. It’s his funeral. The least we can do is shut our mouths and let his family grieve.” she spat, before turning on her heel. She wasn’t exactly sure where she was going, just that she needed to get away from the crowd. 

She pushed past the throng of people surrounding Narcissa and made it to the doors, exiting the room. She tried not to look around the Manor too much as she stumbled along, trying to find the nearest way out. 

There was a door to the gardens somewhere, she just needed to find it. 

She hadn’t expected him to offer dinner in Muggle London. At best she thought a quick dinner at one of the nearby wizarding haunts was all he would suggest. But after three rather filling courses later, she figured out that Malfoy had become accustomed to muggle dining, even flagging down the waiter to get the cheque.

“Did you live among muggles after the war?” she asked suddenly, unable to stop herself.

Malfoy blinked at her and then took a deep breath. “I did. For a few years.”

“Why?”

He said nothing for a while, staring into the glass of scotch he had ordered. “I wanted to get to know something I knew nothing about. Call it a cleansing, if you will. Or a trial by fire.”

“But you were all alone. Your parents stayed behind.” she said matter of factly. He raised a brow at her. 

“So you kept up with my family’s affairs?”

“No I-” she blushed, staring down at her lap. “I read the news. The Daily Prophet wrote about you for a while. They talked about how your parents were covering up your absence.”

“They were in a way,” he nodded, downing his scotch in one go. “They didn’t want me to leave but I did it, and people were bound to notice.”

“And now you’re back.” she said softly.

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Because we all have to go back, don’t we? We all have to face the things we dread.”

“You dreaded returning?”

“Didn’t you? I mean granted you were a hero among all of us, but didn’t everything haunt you a little bit?”

She swallowed visibly. He had a point; she spent the first year after the war overcoming anxiety and terrifying visions of death at every turn.

“It was difficult at first,” she finally conceded. “But eventually you move forward.”

“Exactly, Granger. We all move forward.”

She had always made it a point to tell Draco how huge the Manor was.

“How is it that you never get lost around here?” she asked him once when he’d snuck her in for a visit.

“Who said I didn’t get lost? I still do sometimes. It’s no use having a house with this many rooms and halls. We ought to get a smaller place when we get married.”

She had stared hard at him then, a little in shock. “Married?” Draco paled, suddenly letting go of her hand.

“I- that slipped out. It was just a thought-”

She tried not to smile, but there were already images of Draco wearing wedding robes cropping up in her head. 

“We can hold the wedding in the gardens. The one at Iford Manor. And then maybe you can take me to Geneva for the honeymoon.”

Draco bloomed immediately, gathering her in his arms. 

“Anywhere, Granger. I’ll take you anywhere.” 

It took everything in her not to crumble on the spot. There was so much- too much really, to hold in. She was brimming with all of their secrets, how they’d quietly transcended from being colleagues to friends. How she’d discovered that Draco had shared the same wit as her, finding just as much solace is in knowledge as she did.

Draco was everything to her, taking up more space in her life than she’d thought to give him. And she was everything to him too. 

His reason and redemption.

His downfall.

“I-I don’t understand. Draco- how, how is this happening?” Her hands were trembling as she tried to take in the sight of him, and the many shattered vials surrounding him in his laboratory.

“There’s-” he coughed feebly, blood dripping down the side of his mouth, “We have time, Granger. You don’t have to worry-”

“Not worry? Draco this-” she gestured exasperatedly to the mess around them. “What is going on?” she nearly begged him.

“I’m- I have a blood curse. Bellatrix… cursed me, and I can never have any descendants because the Malfoy line… it ends with me.”

“But… but how?” 

“Because I-” Draco laughed bitterly, gripping the edge of the table for support. “Because I had chosen you.”

She stared at him in shock. “Chosen me? You mean, because we’re together now? Is that why-”

“No,” he interjected, staring at her with his piercing grey eyes. “I- I chose to save you, Granger. When she tortured you in my home, I couldn’t bear it. You couldn’t have known it then, but that dagger that she carved you with- it was dipped in Nagini’s venom. You were going to die. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“There was so much going on, she was too focused on the Sword of Gryffindor, so when Potter and Weasley managed to get out of the dungeons I cursed Bellatrix. I told Potter to take you, and I gave him the antidote before the venom could get to your heart. You were unconscious but your friends did everything to save you. My mother and I helped them take on Greyback and everyone else that was against them. She woke up just in time to see you all leave. I could have done more, Granger I swear it but I- I was afraid.”

Hermione felt like everything was shattering at her feet.

“I went away because… I had to figure out how to fix the curse somehow. But when there wasn’t anything left… when no one else could help me, I decided to just return. To see you.”

His words made everything unravel.

“I wasn’t- I swear I didn’t love you then, Granger. I didn’t. I hated you. I hated that I saved you- that I risked everything for someone I didn’t even care about. But I was curious anyways, I figured if I had so little left to live for I would find a way to make your life a living hell instead. I hated you so much. I had no idea… I never planned on loving you. But there was just-”

“Seeing you was just too much. I wanted to destroy you, but you’d built so much with your life after the war. You were in the papers nearly every day doing some earth shattering thing. Your name was everywhere. At the ministry, at Hogwarts. You did so much with your life that it became nearly impossible for me to hate you.”

“I told myself you didn’t deserve the second chance. That I should have just let you die then. But I was wrong. Because if I didn’t save you, I would have lost more than I already had. You gave so much back to the world around you, Granger. I would have been a fool to stop that. I started… imagining a world without you and I figured I couldn’t live with that. I just couldn’t.”

“And when we worked our first case together, when Marcus Flint had escaped and he nearly killed you-”

“You stood in front of me. He hit you with a Crucio and I thought- I thought you were going to die-” she muttered, her hands trembling as she approached him.

“I couldn’t lose you a second time, could I?” Draco said, his eyes brimming with tears. Hermione was crying now too, cupping his face in her hands.

“But you can’t…” she trailed off, studying his face through her tears. “You can’t die- please. Please Draco, please-” she begged, pulling him closer. “Please you’re all I have left... I can’t lose you.”

“I’ve only just found you…” she sobbed, burying her face in his chest. “I can’t lose you-”

Draco held her tightly, running his hand along the curve of her spine. “Never.” he whispered, pressing his lips to her cheek. She could feel his tears on her face. “You’ll always have me. For as long as we’ve got and even after.”

“Looking for the gardens, Miss Granger?”

Narcissa’s voice rang clear through the hallways, reverberating against the walls and shooting straight at her skin. Hermione froze, wiping the tears from her eyes quickly. She turned around to face the older woman, steeling her jaw. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop. I just wanted to get some air.”

“You must have forgotten from your few visits here, but the door to the gardens is near the kitchen.”

She tried not to show her shock. “I’ve- I’ve only been here once.”

“That’s a lie, Hermione. You were here a few times. Draco brought you.”

She felt her face go pale. In the beginning, it had been of utmost important to keep their relationship a secret. They wanted no one at the Ministry to know, and Draco didn’t approve of telling Narcissa either. 

“ What they don’t know, they can’t ruin.” he whispered against her skin. “Besides, what we’re doing is technically illegal, Granger.” 

She laughed softly as he pressed her down into the bed, trailing his fingers along her sides. 

“You make us sound like fugitives.”

“Aren’t we? We sneak around. We try not to be seen together. I send you raunchy memos detailing how much I’d love to tear your skirt off of you or else press you up against the window and take you while you’re wearing the said skirt.”

She giggled as he hooked his fingers at the hem of her underwear, tugging it down slowly.

“One of these days we’ll get caught, you know. We can’t hide forever.”

“Mm and when they catch us,” he whispered, kissing the inside of her thigh. “We’ll be tried and hung. We’re crossing state lines now, Granger.”

“State lines?” she laughed, propping herself up on her elbows to watch her lover kiss his way down her skin.

He nodded. “We’re crossing barriers. Imagine what the world would say if they found you in my bed. They’d call you deranged and me, dangerous.”

His words made her grin. She quickly pulled him closer, sitting astride him. Then, she cupped his chin and turned his face up to her. 

“I don’t care about the world, Draco. I just care about you.”

Narcissa gave a small smile, taking a few steps closer to her. “Nothing gets past me in this house. Draco assumed he was a great liar but that was never true. I knew about you. I knew what you meant to him. I was shocked of course. I couldn’t understand why he would ever come back for the girl that ruined it all for him. I’m not shy to say I hated you.”

“I never meant to-” she began, ready to apologize for ruining Draco, but Narcissa held up her hand to cut her off.

“I never saw any value in his being with you but… he showed me soon enough. I don’t often say this because no one has ever done this for Draco, but you changed him. Redeemed him. He was never going to admit that to me but I was content enough to watch him be happy. He changed when he met you, Hermione and for that I will always be grateful.” Narcissa was crying now, and she became aware of the fact that she was too. Her heart was shattering into a thousand pieces.

“I never wanted to hurt him.” she said softly. “You must know that.”

“I know.”

“I just- I know this is all my fault even if you say it isn’t-” she sobbed, unable to fight her feelings anymore.

“I can’t make you believe that, Hermione. But he can.”

Hermione couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

“Let me show you.” Narcissa said, offering her hand.

-

The library was left as is, from their last visit. In an attempt to save Draco, he had graciously apparated her with what strength he had, and she raided the place, searching for any book to help her brew potions for him. In the end, she had lost, and there was nothing to be done as his blood turned into poison, killing him from within. 

She held him in her arms in the library as he died, and when he had given his last breath she sobbed into his chest until her voice grew hoarse and her head felt close to splitting. There was nothing to be done. Draco had left her strict instructions, so she called on Radkey the house elf to apparate his body to his room, and to alert Narcissa so that she might find him first.

Hermione managed to sneak out of the Manor before all hell broke loose. When she returned to Draco’s apartment, she climbed into his bed and sobbed, clutching her chest if only to keep herself from shattering. 

The days were cold and dark then, and she couldn’t find it in herself to explain her absences to the people around her. Everything was cold and dark without Draco.

Seeing the library for the first time after he died felt like being doused in cold water. She wanted to run, but Narcissa was holding her hand tightly.

“I know this is where he died,” she said softly, looking graciously at her. “I know you tried to help him. So let me help you now.”

She gestured to something Hermione hadn’t noticed earlier. There was an easel covered with a velvet cloth in the middle of the room. Narcissa released her hand and nodded, urging her to go forward. As she took a few steps closer to the easel, the door to the library closed with a soft click.

Her heart was hammering in her chest. She knew what was coming. She knew exactly what this was. As she raised a hand to the cloth, she saw her fingers tremble, but she was determined to see it through.

The cloth fell to the floor softly, and she set her eyes on Draco’s portrait, smiling at her from within its gold frame.

“Took you long enough,” the portrait said, grinning at her. “Hello, Granger.”

Hermione said nothing. Her throat was closing up.

“You can talk to me, I don’t bite.” he teased, but she was in no mood to laugh. All she wanted to do was scream, and rip him out of the portrait and bring him back.

“You’re not him.” she said after a while, voice breaking.

“I know.” he replied solemnly. “I know but he made a promise to be with you even after his time ran out, so here I am, if you’ll have me.”

“If I’ll have you?”

The portrait of Draco nodded. “You can hang me up wherever you like so you won’t ever be alone.”

“I-I can’t… I can’t hold you.” she sobbed, feeling a fresh ripple of grief tear through her. Seeing his portrait felt like being plunged in grief anew. 

“I can’t touch you or have you or or… or be with you.”

“You’ll always be with me-”

“But not in that way!” she screamed, her voice bleeding with hurt. “It will never… it will never be the same.” she sobbed, sinking onto her knees on the floor. Draco’s portrait didn’t speak after a while.

“There was so much that he wanted for you, Granger. He wanted to give you the world. He would have. I felt that. I still feel that. And I know there’s nothing I can do in a gilded frame but I’d be damned if I don’t try.” He spoke with so much firmness that Hermione almost believed he was real.

“You’ll always have me, Granger. Always. In whatever form. I spent a good part of my life living so I could be with you. That won’t ever change.”

She rose to her feet, gently brushing her fingers against the portrait. Draco tilted his head towards her hand, smiling warmly.

“I don’t know how to do this, Draco. I- you’re everywhere.” she said, her voice shaking. She was going to be swallowed up in her grief.

“I wish we had more time. I loved you. I loved you and I never let anyone see that. I loved you and I killed you.” she cried.

“You didn’t do this, Granger.” he said firmly. “This isn’t your fault.”

“You should have been here. You shouldn’t have-”

“I will never regret taking my chances. Never, do you hear me?”

“There was so much- I wanted a life with you, Draco. I wanted to be with you forever. I chose you.” she said in a strained voice, shaking her head. “What do I do with that now? How am I supposed to live now?”

He paused, studying her face intently. Hermione knew he was painted in Draco’s likeness, but he wasn’t her Draco. Still, she found comfort as she stared into his silver eyes. Whoever had commissioned the portrait captured the best parts of him, and she somehow felt that if she stroked his face, she would feel the sharp angles of his jaw through the canvas.

“Believe it or not Granger, I’m not responsible for your future. I made a choice then, and it gave you a chance. What you do with it is not up to me. It never was. I don’t expect anything of you.” he said.

“But I do want you to live. Live freely, Hermione. Choose yourself. I know it sounds ridiculous but it’s a fairly easy task. I did it everyday.” 

Hermione stared at him, before releasing a low shuddering breath. “O-okay. Okay I’ll- I’ll try.” Draco nodded, giving her a firm look. He was a portrait, but he believed in her just as much as the real Draco would have.

“I love you, Granger. Even in death. Even after.” Draco smiled wistfully at her.

And then he raised his palm to meet hers, and she watched him, taking in the sight of her dead lover, until she felt the world fade away.