Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had been quite a morning. Quite one indeed. She had managed to get herself up and ready. After that it was a matter of being a good mother. So as her children slept a few more hours, she rummaged through their stuff and put things straight for the morning. Repacking bags and placing quills and parchment in their proper place. If they were to wake (which they never did) they would see all this, and not believe it was just how things were. There was a point when Rose believed it was the Nargles that Luna spoke of, and the pumpkin pasty the pair left out once for them had got them on their good side and was the reason their shoes did not go missing like Luna’s had and they were lined up practically perfect at the end of their bed each morning. 

After the children were quite sorted, she set to everything else before leaving for the day. It was on that morning Ron had decided to get up unusually early which was not just an oddity but something that had been completely absent from their lives since they became a couple. It was his rule to wake up five minutes before needing to be anywhere. 

“Why waste minutes sitting around waiting for the time to leave when you can put them to good use.” 

Hermione couldn’t explain to him there were plenty of things that could be seen to in the time before leaving - like making sure the children were ready - and that she was not wasting a second. This morning was no different. He had started a row with her which her logical mind could barely decipher what it was actually about. She found herself quite short with him of late, and being who she was she took it as a fault of her own. 

Appearing in the fireplace along the left side of the magnificent hall in the Ministry of Magic with a whoosh she stepped forward to get out of the way of the next emerging wizard. Unfortunately for her, her heel caught in the grate and brought her momentarily to an abrupt halt. She tried to maintain her balance, but lost the battle and fell forward onto the dark slate-tiled floor. Lucky her, the skirt she wore allowed her to remain modest even if her dignity layed squashed beneath her. 

She heard the quick pace of shoes beside her suddenly stop and a question posed. 

“Are you quite alright?” 

Hermione lifted her chin up towards the voice and found herself looking at an older, but very familiar face. Her mouth fell slightly open but there was no answer. 

“Granger?” He said, just as befuddled as she was. Still his hand went out in an offer of aid. Hermione took it as she got her legs under her. 

“Malfoy,” she said with a polite nod. “Thank you.” She tried to recall if she had heard mention of him since the trials at the end of the war. Last she had heard he had become a bit of a recluse. Locked up in his manor, with his wife- her name escaped her just now. 

She straightened herself out as he watched. Hermione was quite aware of his gaze. She felt it was as critical as ever and found herself bothered by it. When she looked up at him again he offered her a sympathetic smile. 

“Are you sure you're alright? You took quite a fall.” He said gesturing to the spot where a rather plain looking almost nondescript Wizard stepped past. 

“Right as rain.” She said switching her leather satchel from one hand to another. “I should let you get on with your day-“ 

“Could-“ he started to interrupt her, knowing quite well that she was going to try to make a quick exit from his presence. Most did. “Could I ask for you to meet me for lunch? I’ve - been meaning to track you down for sometime and I think this is Felix Felicis’ way of saying the time is now.” 

“I- uhm-“ 

“Granger, I promise I will make it as short and painless as possible. I assure you, I want to simply speak with you - without the mass ingress and egress of wizards around us, if at all possible.” 

She looked at him for a moment and then nodded. “Alright. One o’clock? I can meet you right by the Fountain?” She asked. 

“That would work wonderfully.” He said with a pleased grin. It made his eyes light up a little. They reminded her of the startling ice gray eyes of his youth. Draco looked down the atrium towards the fountain and then back to her. “I don’t suppose you could point me to the Department of Mysteries.” He asked rather sheepishly. 

“You want the ninth floor.” She looked towards the lifts and checked her watch. “Come I’ll get you sorted, I have time.” She set off across the obsidian floor, her heels clicking with the same determination he probably remembered her for. “It’s been a while.” 

“18-19 years…” he said. 

“That long?” She shook her head. “I suppose it has been.” Hermione glanced up at him and gave a weak smile as they stepped to the lift. The golden accordion grate opened as she paused. “Level Nine.” She reminded him. “I’ll meet you at one.” 

He nodded, stepping into the lift. “Thanks, Granger.” The door closed between them, Draco holding her gaze before the lift jerked and he receded onto the Ministry. 

She turned and made her way towards another lift.  Nineteen years. He had aged, but like most men in a dignified way, as if he wouldn’t stand for anything else. The thought made her chuckle to herself. It was something the Malfoy she knew would be insulted by, that age would try to define him. He was the same tall build, his striking platinum hair which hid any gray hairs that had started to creep into his life. And then there were those eyes. Still the same. Haunting to the last. She had always thought they were able to look right through her. It was why he knew how to irk her so quickly when they were younger. 

Entering her office she closed out all thoughts of Mr. Draco Malfoy until she glanced at the clock just before one. Making her way down she found him already there waiting, leaning against the stonewall of the fountain lost in thought as he gazed into the pool. She took a moment to admire him. The finely tailored suit, his neatly combed hair. She bet his nails didn’t have a bit of grit under them. It was as if he had been sculpted as an addition to the fountain waiting to be cast. 

“Muggles have a saying, ‘Penny for your thoughts’ sorry to say I don’t have one to offer.” She said as she stepped beside him. 

His gaze lifted to her and he grinned. “I doubt they were worth that much.” 

She laughed as he stood up. “Looks like we’re both safe then.” Hermione doesn’t bother to explain about the penny. It wasn’t worth it to a man like him. “Do you mind going topside?” She, of course, meant the Muggle world. “There’s a pub close by.” 

He shook his head. “Lead the way, if you would be so kind.” Draco gestured towards the fireplaces to the right of the hall at the end of the atrium. 

“Did you find the Department of Mysteries alright?” She asked as they walked together. Hermione was vaguely aware who saw them, more as to not want to deal with the gossip of the Ministry later. 

“I did. Was more concerned about finding my way out. They weren’t as clear about directions.” He shook his head. “I haven’t been to the Ministry in sometime, I thought it wouldn’t feel so large, as if it were being young that made it so, and yet it seems far bigger than I recall.” 

“They’re always expanding. Certainly the D.O.M. They’re still a bit touchy with Harry and I about the Hall of Prophecy.” 

It was hardly their fault and after 19 years one would think things could be forgotten, but that did not seem to be the case. Glancing at the dashing man beside her now she had to wonder if anything could be forgotten between them. Those cuts ran very deep. 

She stopped at one of the fireplaces and looked at him. He offered her his arm which she took as the two stepped inside. The pair appeared in a whoosh in a dead end alley just on the backside of the original Scotland Yard Headquarters which was now a posh luxury hotel. 

“Am I allowed to ask why you were visiting the D.O.M. or will that remain a mystery locked behind their vault doors?” Hermione let go of him and started to lead the way out towards the Horse & Guardsman. 

“Some research I was doing came to a questionable conclusion and I thought it best that I alert someone.” He said as he looked around, curious of their whereabouts. 

“Research? I didn’t know you -“

“Hobby. It keeps my mind nimble.” He shrugged it off, his eyes glanced at her. “Doubt you have much time with such things, with your duties.” 

He wasn’t wrong. “No. Sadly not much at all. Not with work and the children.” 

Draco looked at her. He had known she had married Weasel-Bee, but he hadn’t known they had any children. “How many?” He asked. 

“Two. One of each. Rose goes to Hogwarts this coming fall.” 

He chuckled. “As does my son.” Malfoy grinned. “Shall we hope they get off to a better start than we did?” 

“I suppose that depends on him.” She snipped before she could catch herself. 

He lifted a brow and gave an amused grin. “I had that coming. But I think there is a question of what her father might have told her about the Malfoys.” He remarked. 

Hermione rolled her eyes and started to turn back. She should have seen this coming. And that was when she felt his hand on her wrist. 

“I didn’t mean that. No, I did, however I shouldn’t have said it.” He said pulling her back around to him. “Please don’t go.” He pleaded softly. His eyes said more than the words he spoke. “Please, Granger.” 

Staring at him she tried to read him. His hand was still locked around her wrist holding her in place. She sighed. “Alright.” 

The word was magic, his hand immediately unlocked and freed her. The two of them looked at one another before he gestured for her to lead on. 

Settling in on the second floor at a table for two in front of a window Hermione didn’t have the slightest idea why she was there. Only that he had said he had planned on tracking her down. After she ordered for them, she asked if he spent much time in the Muggle world. 

“No. I don’t spend much time outside of the manor to be honest. A few libraries and such.” He said sitting back. It was not hard to see. He was like a child there, his eyes curiously taking it all in. Especially her or rather what Hermione saw as her behavior there. 

“What was it you wished to speak to me about?” She said getting right to the point of things.

“Ah- yes. Direct as always.” He smirked. This was the difficult part. Draco had wanted it to be on his terms, but things had already gone so far south that it was impossible to ever get it back. “I wanted to apologize. For everything.” He said. “It’s probably why I took such offense at your comment. My son- my son is a far cry from me. Certainly the me you met that first day at Hogwarts and I want him to have a chance. I’m sure you wish the same for you Rose and your son.” 

Her rich chocolate eyes stared at him. He could feel their warmth. Her silence and stillness allowed him to look deeper. Seeing how the color of the iris deepened at the outer rim. How there were flecks of what looked like amber, so small they seemed to melt into the sweetness. 

“My behavior towards you was particularly harsh, and my only excuse for that is how I was raised. But I am taking responsibility for this. Those words came from me and over the years I have found myself regretting them more and more. They did even back then, if you can believe it.” 

“There were far more than words, Malfoy.” She remarked. 

He nodded. His eyes glanced down to the table. “There were.” The words were like a dead weight on the table. “I had my reason for helping the Dark Lord.” 

He closed his eyes and his dark lashes kissed his cheeks as if they bowed in their own repentance. When he looked up, his head still held slightly low, he spoke again. “He was threatening my mother. My father was-𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 and the Dark Lord had her. He was going to hurt her, and I had no one to turn to. Not even her own sister would help her. I - I had to-“ he said. “You must understand that I didn’t know what to do. I was still a child and until then everything I did was childish.” He wet his lips. “I grew up rather quickly that year.” 

Hermione listened. She had remembered how he had looked that year, the year before everything came falling down around all of them. He had been as desperate as they had been. She knew, after hearing from Harry, that Snape had made vows to Narcissa Malfoy to protect Draco and the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had kept his vow at the Headmaster’s insistence. She knew a lot of things that Draco had most likely not been privy to. 

“Would you be surprised if I said I did?” Hermione said gently. “There was a lot more going on than any of us knew about. And while I wish I could say that those involved all had our best interests at heart I can’t say I believe that anymore.” She had never voiced that to Ron or Harry. She respected Dumbledore, but he had left children to face a great evil. She didn’t think it mattered that he believed they could. “You might have been terrible but you had your moments of bravery.” He shook his head to disagree. “You didn’t tell Bellatrix it was Harry and you knew. I know you did. You bought us time.”

“I let her - “ his jaw set and his nostrils flared. “Hurt you…” 

“You didn’t let her. Just like with your mother you didn’t have any choice. She would have turned on you.” Hermione knew that as sure as she still woke up at night feeling the searing pain in her arm. “I’m sure it wasn’t pleasant after we escaped.” Harry had told her how the Dark Lord had tortured those of Malfoy Manor for their failures that day.

Draco shook his head. “No, it wasn’t.” His voice became hoarse. 

All the color drained from his face. He looked like a shell of a man stricken before her. Hermione leaned forward and reached for his hand. She had seen a lot of that look in the aftermath of the war. It affected both sides. Covering his hand with hers, she felt how cold it made him. “But it’s over now.” His hand grasped hers as he looked at her. Malfoy nodded. 

They ate and had another drink. He talked about his work. She became caught up in it. It reminded her of when they were looking for the Horcruxes. The hours of reading until her eyes hurt and sleep found her leaning over a book.There was so little time for such things now. She found herself jealous of him, of this time and sitting there with him selfishly ate up what she could. 

The lunch crowd dwindled and they were alone. The check was left and Draco reached for the check wallet. “I have it. I doubt you carry Muggle money.” She said to him, with a smirk.

“I wouldn’t know where to start.” He chuckled. “But allow-“ 

She waved him off. “Next time.” Hermione said and with that she knew there would be. 

Malfoy nodded. A small satisfied smirk on his lips, for he had realized it too. “Next time.” He sat back, crossing his legs. “I hope I’m not getting you in trouble.” 

“10 points demotion for Gryffindor?” She smirked. 

“Something like that.” He chuckled. “This was good. I quite enjoyed this- it was not at all what I was expecting.” He had been tormenting himself with thoughts of speaking with her. Afraid she wouldn’t listen, and deny him a chance to repent. Draco gave her a lopsided grin. “I don’t talk to much of anyone other than Astoria and Scorpius. We certainly don’t talk much about the war.” 

“No one does.” Granger said. “It seems part of surviving it is forgetting it.” Her and Ron didn’t talk about it. Same with her and Harry and yet all there was were reminders around them. 

He rose to his feet and extended his hand to her. “Would you meet me again? I know who I am and how that might-“ 

She let her fingers slip into his, he almost pulled her out of the seat as if she was incapable herself. Hermione smiled. “I can meet you. Think you can get yourself here on your own?” 

“Oh, the confidence you instill in me, Granger.” He smirked. “I think I can manage.” 

“Next week, then?” She asked. 

Chapter Text

He sat behind the desk, his gaze falling on the edge of the polished beveled wood. There he found a small nick he had never noticed before, a flaw in the refinement of the piece.  She had come into his thoughts as he reached to touch it, rubbing the pad of his thumb over it. That flawed but perfect creature. That was what she was. How he had silently pined for her all those years ago. She was everything he was taught to hate and yet those were the things that quite often made him admire her even more. The days had turned into months, which passed into years, until they became a decade.

In the time after the war, he was able to free himself from her hold on him. Studying her from afar, and as her notoriety passed into smaller achievements he lost sight of her. Was able to breathe and at the same time lose those small moments of joy he had when he needled her in their years together at Hogwarts. Like most children he listened and repeated what he heard. One wanted to believe that their parents knew best, that these people one looked up to had it all figured out. It was only after one meets others outside of their parents' guidance that they are left questioning what they have been taught. They start to form opinions of their own. Draco had come to that understanding slowly. After each school year he was reconditioned during his summers at home. Then later he believed he didn’t have a choice, said so to in fact, but he did. There were always choices to be made. It was his way of trying to justify those wrongs he committed, rather than grow up; he became what he didn’t want to be. At that time he fell in love with who she became, wishing he could be a better version of himself, someone that she could love.

“How was your day, my darling?”

Her voice broke the silence of thought. Draco looked up to see his wife in the doorway. Standing there she was a specter of the woman he had wed. Though her appearance was immaculate, she looked washed out, her skin so pale without makeup that he could see the shadows of the bone beneath.

“Productive. I suppose.” He answered with a small smirk as she slowly approached.

“You seemed preoccupied with thought earlier. Scorpius was asking after you, after dinner. He’s worried that something is wrong.” She slipped into one of the chairs across from the antique desk. Long spindly fingers touching the edge as she sat to steady herself. “I told him it was simply the travel.”

Mafloy rubbed his jaw and nodded thoughtfully. Taking a moment, his gray eyes came to rest gently on Astoria. “I ran into someone.” She does not ask who, but merely allows him the time he needs to speak. “Hermione Granger.” 

“You mean Weasley.” 

He shook his head. “She didn’t take the name. Which is probably the smartest thing she could have done in that regard.” He said; his tone held a hint of superiority. This wasn’t a blood thing but rather would be seen more as a classist statement. 

Though Astoria didn’t take it that way either. She knew her husband well enough that this was more personal prejudice on his part. He considered Granger to be more accomplished than that of Weasley and therefore deserving of more respect. 

“Did she speak to you?” She asked. His quiet mood made her question if that was what was bothering him. “I know you had wished to - express your regrets about the past.” They had spoken about it once, when they had found themselves for the first time in their early marriage being open with one another. He had spilled his feelings on the subject of his past behavior before and during the war. Most specifically as he got deeper into the bottle of fire whiskey, the young muggle born woman who he had directed so much hate towards as a boy was at the center of his regret. 

“She did. We had lunch.” He grinned slightly at the thought. “She took me to a Muggle pub. It was quite good.” He glanced at his wife across the desk. “She was -“ he paused, considering his words carefully. “Compassionate. Considering my dreadful behavior and cruelty.” He shifted in his seat. 

“It’s all you could have hoped for then. To have her forgiveness?” 

“Of course.” He nodded. “Her daughter will be attending Hogwarts this coming fall. I’m hoping our chat will temper things with Scorpius.”

“You’re concerned about the Malfoy name.” It was a statement of fact rather than a question. Draco had originally been very adamant that the Malfoy name end with him. That had changed when she discovered she was pregnant. A lot changed with Scorpius, far more than either of them were willing to admit. 

“What more is there to concern myself with now? Other than his future and your health?” He rose to his feet and walked around to the other side of the table. Bridging the gap between them.

“There is your happiness. Your future.” She believed he didn’t see that. Did not realize when she succumbed to the blood curse that held her life balanced on the tip of a pin he would live on. 

He took her hand, holding the icy fingers gingerly in his. Draco had no illusions about happiness. He had been given a measured spoonful. Enough to take him to this point in his life. He and Astoria had managed to find a little within one another, and when she died, it would be the light in their son that would carry that on. It was his duty to assure the boy did not make the same mistakes he had and to do so he would not become his father. 

Draco pressed his lips to her fingers. “I have what I need now.” He said with a warm smile. 

Chapter Text

The following week she met him right on Whitehall. He was standing at the end of the alley looking rather suspicious. If she hadn’t known that the Great Scotland Yard was now a hotel she would have guessed he was one of the detectives taking a moment to sort his thoughts out on a case. Either way he looked quite - Muggle standing there. Something she didn’t think she would ever be able to say about Mr. Draco Malfoy.

He had sent a card the following day thanking her once again. His elegant penmanship was a refinement that was the luxury of the rich and leisurely. The idea that he would send a card to thank her was something else. He had taken time out of his, what she imagined he thought was a terribly important life to think of her. Perhaps it struck her so because of what he had previously thought of her and how he had regarded her. If she had said something to Ron about it, he would have scoffed and made some harsh remark that he was trying to pull one over on her, as if she wasn’t smart enough to see something like that coming.

“For all your books and cleverness you can be seriously naive.”

She didn’t have to make up such a thing for he had said it to her once before, when dealing with another previous Hogwarts student that came looking for favors. Hermione had spent so much time suspecting everyone of things that she had wanted to try to remember that there were still good people in the world. It wasn’t naive to want to trust, it was - hopeful.

“You should be careful. You could get picked up.” She said with a smirk as she came into his view.

The man straightened up immediately and gave her a smile. It caught her solid right on the chin. She found her smirk blossomed into a smile in return as she noticed his attire. His suit was tailored like the other, but this one was far more fashionable, something that one would see strolling down the streets of London. Muggle London.

“By whom?” He asked, glancing up and down the street. “This is where you meant right?”

“I meant someone might think you were up to something.”

“Well, they would have that right.” He chuckled. There was something by the way he answered her that made her think of what Ron would have said. Was there something more to his wanting to meet her? “Are we going to the Guardsman? Or did you have something else in mind?” His light eyes glanced at the pub across the way.

“I suppose we could or we could continue your education.” She had thought about something he said during their last luncheon, how it was all somewhat new to him.  “Feeling adventurous?”

A nervous smile slipped his lips just after he wet them, his hand rubbed his jaw considering the offer. “If it was anyone else I would say no. But I know how capable and resourceful you are.” Draco grinned.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment until I can work out if it is or not.” She allowed her eyes to look down the street. “Come on, let's walk a bit.”  She set out and he shortened his usual long stride to keep pace with her once he caught up to her as they made off in the direction of her choosing.

Hermione glanced sideways at him. “A new suit?” She asked.

“Yes, do you like it?” He asked, smoothing his hand down the front. “I’m not quite sure about it, but I was told it is the style for men my age.” Draco chuckled and shook his head. “After our meeting the following day I decided to sort this Muggle world out. Or at least figure out how you manage to step between the two worlds so easily.”

“10 points to Slytherin.” She smirked.

“I feel I deserve quite a bit more than that.” His gaze lingering a touch longer than necessary, but she didn’t look away. “I had galleons converted over. I ordered the suit after what I can only describe as a medieval form of tailoring.” She laughed and he found he instantly wanted to hear it again. “Even went back to retrieve it.” 

“Perhaps another five points.” She said as they slowed their stroll outside a shop. 

He scoffs, but there is no way he can stop his grin. “I don’t believe everyone knows your dark side, Granger. You are terribly cruel.”

She’d laugh. “It took you this long to figure that out?” Hermione asked as she turned to look over her shoulder at him.

Her chin kissed the curve as he caught her smile. It was such a simple thing and there he was looking at her as if she were a piece of renowned art. “I suppose I knew it deep down, it was why Pottah and Wealsey always looked like they were in agonizing pain.” He chuckled, his eyes glanced at the shop. “What are you about to submit me to?”

“Stop it. You said you would trust me.” She remarked to him. Draco gave her an apologetic nod before he allowed himself to smile. “It’s a small grocery - they have food and such. We’ll pop in and grab something for lunch and step into the park. Unless you want to wait here for me.”

“No, no. I said I was fighting fit for this. I don’t want you to say a Slytherin backed away from - well anything.” He chuckled. “Lead on.” There was something delightful about the experience, and he knew at once it was her. She explained things that were even obvious and with such conviction he didn’t have the heart to tell her she needn’t.  

They found themselves on a park bench a short time later. A chicken and sweetcorn sandwich for her and an egg and cress for him. Two bottles of water and she asked if they could share a bag of crisps.

“So, he’s not with Pottah? I mean - the Auror office.” Draco asked. There was clear judgment in his voice and he knew it.

“His heart wasn’t in it and George needed him.” She answered by taking a small bite of her sandwich. Hermione herself couldn’t help understanding Draco’s question. How could one give up such a position? “He’s happier for it.” 

“I suppose getting to play with Pygmy Puffs and gobble down Fever Fudge is far less tiresome than laws and filing paperwork at the Ministry.” He shook his head, his eyes glancing at her. He could see her amazement that he knew of such things. “I have a son. Whose mother has been known to spoil.” 

“Oh, that explains it.” She smirked. 

He grinned. “It’s not my place- but I have to ask how you feel about that?” 

“His job?” She shrugged. “It allowed him to be there for the children. They attended Muggle school, so it made things easier.” 

“Yes, of course, but certainly there is now- Rose is almost ready for Hogwarts and Hugo next year -” He realized immediately he was overstepping. “I’m sorry, it was out of line. I’m just curious- you being -  you. I would have figured some of that would have rubbed off on him.” 

“Like a rash?” She asked. Her gaze held his, she could see he realized he had been rude. Hermione gives him a smirk just to ease the tension. “Things like that don't rub off on Ron. If they did, one would have figured by the time we repeated our last year he might have actually gone to the library for something more than finding me.”

“I suppose we all have our ways.” He shrugged.

“What about Astoria? What does she do while you’re lost in your study?” She asked quickly to change the subject from her husband. 

“Astoria? She takes care of Scorpius. Sees to the manor and it’s running.” He said as if that was what ladies did. “She’s not - well. She gets quite tired these days. It was harder when Scorpius was younger. He ran her ragged. I had suggested a governess or an au pair, but she wouldn’t hear of it.” He grinned softly, thinking of her raising her voice at him for the first time. 

‘I am his mother. He was not meant to be, and for that I am grateful, but he is mine and I will not, do you hear me Draco, I will not allow another to be a fill-in for me.’

She had been so angry that he had suggested it. 

“You don’t help?”

Draco glanced up from his thoughts. Shook his head. “No. I leave such things to her. I-” He paused. “I’m not good with him.” She looked at him as if he just said something quite difficult for her to understand. He sighed. “I’m terrified of him. That somehow I’m going to manage just by mere proximity to him turn him into me - the me you met that first day at Hogwarts. That foul loathsome evil little cockroach .” 

She closed her eyes remembering that moment. He was dreadful that first day, but she would have had to explain to him he had gotten much worse thereafter - hence the cockroach- before he got better. When she opened them he was smirking. “What?”

“You’re trying to find a way to be polite. Which is so - you .” He chuckled.

“I was not. I’m going to hold my comment until after a question or two.” Picking up a crisp she popped the small thin fried potato into her mouth. It gave a satisfying crunch. 

He nodded. “Go right ahead, Ms. Granger.” Draco said, preparing himself for her interrogation. 

“Was your father involved in your childhood? I mean your day to day upbringing?” She asked and before he began to answer she could see him catch the disparaging remark that had initially come to mind. 

He sighed. “My mother preferred he wasn’t. I can’t say I didn’t agree with her early on, but before that I was a boy who wanted to be like his father and so I followed him about getting under foot.” Draco’s brow creased. “He wanted an heir, not a son.” He rested his arm along the back of the bench. His eyes glanced up at her. She was just within his touch, a single curl reaching out for him - perhaps the boy he was would have pulled it, while the man he was, if he was free to, would have let it wrap around his finger, stroking it. 

“I know you saw me with him a few times. I could not live up to what he had in his head. And knowing what he was willing to submit me to for his position…I don’t think I would have wanted to.”

“I bet Scorpius is quite like you were. I mean as a boy looking up to his father, not a cockroach.” Hermione decided that he needed to see the difference. “He’s not oblivious to the history?” 

Draco snickered at the comment, but shook his head. “No, he’s not. We answer his questions. Astoria and I have-”

“You both have?” Hermione cut in. A single brow lifted to finish her question. 

“Granger, you do know you have become more haughty in your old age?”

“Quite so, but you're not answering my question, Malfoy” She smirked. 

“Yes, we both do.” He wet his lips quickly. “We have made a conscious effort to remove the prejudice that we were both born into.”

“Pure-blood superiority?” He nodded. “If you're teaching him that’s wrong, why would you limit your involvement? Honestly, children understand far more than we give them credit for.” 

He sighed. “I am well aware of that. It is part of my concern in sending him to Hogwarts this fall. Another thing we both know about children is how cruel they can be. I know that sounds dreadfully hypocritical from me, of all people, but - he hasn’t done anything to deserve it.”

“No, he hasn’t. But shouldn’t you be preparing him for -” She stopped and small creases formed at the corners of her mouth, a suddenly remorseful look reflected back at him. “Seems overstepping is quite contagious. It is not my place to tell you how to be a parent. I don’t like it when it happens to me.” 

“To you?” A look of shock befuddled his otherwise pleasant face. He scoffed. “I can’t imagine.” 

She laughed. “I’m not perfect, you know.”  

“I think an argument could be made if one was so inclined to disagree with you.” He smirked. “If not perfect, quite close to it, at the very least.” 

She blushed, and smiled softly, turning her head to keep him from claiming that victory. It was something she recalled doing at school with him. Draco making one of his disparaging remarks that upset her and her trying to keep him from seeing the effect he had. Back then she had thought that it only fed his meanness.

He looked at her, tilting his head very lightly in wonder. He could not forget, as he would have liked to, how beautiful she was. 

“What’s wrong, Granger? Did I find the girl that is still in there?” He felt he had. Caught a glimpse of the one who had stepped out of her shell the night of the Yule Ball in periwinkle. Her hair swept up in a knot, with Wisteria tendrils of golden brown framing her face that caught the light just so. He could still see her like that, standing there, mocking all those who had never realized just how beautiful she was. Himself included and most of all herself. 

“I -” The blush deepened as she faltered. “I don’t think you want her. She can be quite rude when it comes to you.” She said with a laugh.

“I don’t? Deep down I always had a soft spot for that one.” He grinned, his pale cheeks finding its own color as he had lowered his voice to impart the secret confession to her. Draco chuckled nervously to cover up the honesty he had allowed to surface. “Bloody fool, I was back then.” He grinned. “I think we can both agree on that.” He picked up a crisp and popped it into his mouth, letting his eye find the beauty of nature - which was far less stirring than the woman beside him. 

She just looked at him. Flabbergasted was not a strong enough word for her at that moment. One could have pinched her and she wouldn’t have felt a thing. 

“What did you do with Malfoy?” 

He looked at her. The smallest smile, no smirk, pulled at his lips as if someone had threaded thin filament there, knotting it so nothing showed and tugged to test their hand. It was discerning, in the most unnerving dangerous way. Because it was completely genuine. 

“Nothing. Been here all along, just hadn’t managed to figure out who I was till now.” Then he gave her his smirk. “What do you think? Carry on or complete rubbish?” He asked her. What he wanted was far more than any gentleman would dare voice.

It took her a moment. Her thoughts were all muddled and mashed, pressed under the stone pestle of emotions she was feeling just then. Hermione had the distinct feeling he was chatting her up. Not that she had much of that. Ron’s idea of flirting back then was taking the book out of her hand and losing her page; now it had come down to a single phrase ‘ready for bed’. She had a few blokes at the office do it a couple times, before they realized who she was and that she was married. Instead she found that feeling that was pressing on her chest now in the pages of a book. 

“ Carry on -  I think.” She said, not wanting to discourage him.