Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Draco Malfoy was sitting on a beach, close enough to the water line to need to pull his boots away from the surf to avoid getting wet. He was cold and damp, but no matter the chill in the air, he couldn’t really say he felt uncomfortable. He couldn’t really say he felt anything at all. The briny wind whipped his hair around his face and he kept closing his eyes against the sea spray. Actually, he felt ridiculous. Unsure of why it felt so important to skip out of work today to go to Tinworth of all places. Just to sit here and stare at the water. He had come on a whim, thinking that an unscheduled day of not having to answer to anyone would be good for him. But the longer he sat in the sand, the more he felt like a fool. He should have just gone to work. Not that the Ministry would suffer without him. He was well aware that his position was superfluous at best and unnecessary at worst. But, his father wanted him on the payroll of the Department of Mysteries as an Unspeakable, that’s what his father got.

Behind him, a small white-washed cottage stood out starkly against the darkening sky. There were seashells embedded in the walls that were beginning to crumble to the elements. He eyed it warily as he finally pushed himself up and turned around. Brushing sand from his trousers, he tilted his head, contemplating the beach-side cottage in front of him. Something about it made him feel sad. It had obviously sat empty for a long time. It was clear that at one time someone cared about it, evident by the broken planters and overgrown front garden. Someone had decorated it. Someone had loved this place enough to plant a garden. Someone had cared enough to paint the door what must have once been a rich shade of teal - now faded and peeling away. He sighed, internally comparing himself to the once loved and now neglected cottage on the shore. Something squeezed uncomfortably in his chest.

He stood facing the house for another moment before the door suddenly flew open and a thin blonde woman stepped out. Draco took a step back, not expecting anyone to actually live there in the decrepit old house, let alone step out suddenly onto the small front porch. She pulled a thickly woven shawl tighter around her shoulders as she looked down to Draco from her higher vantage point. He felt uneasy at the woman’s piercing gaze. Her eyes were unnaturally blue, bright enough that Draco could see their color from where he stood, which Draco thought to be around 40 meters. Her pale blonde hair seemed to float on the wind. The woman looked at him and slowly raised her hand as if to wave, then faltered and let it drop. She was looking at him as if she expected him to say something, to call out to her. She took a small step forward as if she may call down to him. The familiarity of her actions unsettled him.

“She does that to me too.”

Draco spun to come face to face with a woman who had somehow walked right up to him without him realizing it. She had a mess of dark, wild curls that the sea winds were slinging violently around her face. Her skin was a few shades darker than his own with a smattering of freckles that stood out starkly across her nose and cheeks. She had come to stand within arm’s reach of Draco, facing the cottage with him, a small smile on her face.

“Right, hello. Uh, does what?”

“Stands at her door, staring. Looking like she has something she wants to tell me, then,” she nodded toward the cottage as the woman turned away and went back inside, slamming the door behind her. “Goes back inside. Look, she’ll peer out from those drapes to the right of the door in a moment.”

Sure enough, after a brief moment, the thin white drapes in the window to the right of the door fluttered and parted, the woman’s piercing eyes looking down on the pair again.

Draco turned his face toward the stranger. He watched her for a moment as she closed her eyes, turned toward the sea, and then inhaled deeply. He peered down the coastline, wondering again how this woman just walked up to him without him realizing it. He watched her hair dance in the wind and decided that it didn’t matter much.

“So, you’re here a lot?” He cringed as soon as the words left his mouth. How much closer could he get to ‘so, do you come here often,’ without wanting to throw himself into the waves?

She glanced at him, her smile dropping into a more contemplative purse of the lips. “Yeah, I suppose. I like to watch the water while I think.”

“Think about what?”

“About what I don’t know.”

Draco pondered this for a moment before replying.

“Ah. Are you a philosophy student?” He turned toward the sea with her, forgetting the cottage and deciding not to care about how the woman got here.

“No, I’m not a philosophy student. Just someone who likes to think. I get, uh, overwhelmed sometimes.” She looked up at him then, one eyebrow raised as if considering how much she should tell him about herself. His face remained neutral, open. She sighed. “I was in an accident. I lost a part of my life. Years that I can’t remember. I come here when I can’t think about anything else other than what I might be missing. Who I might be missing. I’ve lost almost all of my memories of school. I think I miss my friends, but, no one ever comes round to check on me or say hi. They never have. So, maybe I’m awful, and don’t really have any friends. Focusing on the water helps me get out of my head.”

Mouth slightly open, Draco just stared. That was…more than he was expecting. “Wow, that’s - a lot. I’m really sorry you had to go through something like that.” He shuffled his feet in the damp sand, wanting the mood to be lighter than it was. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, you don’t seem so bad. I’m sure you had a friend or two.” He finished with a smirk.

“Yeah, probably. They probably think I’m just out living my life, right? They’re the ones wondering why I don’t come round or call?”

“Definitely.” He moved closer to her then. “They’re probably idiots. You’re probably too good for them.”

Wait, what the fuck did he just say?

She snorted softly, and Draco decided then and there that he’d like to know what her actual laugh sounded like.

“My name is Draco.” He reached for her hand and gave it a small squeeze before slightly shaking it and letting it drop again to her side.

She looked down at her hand, then back to his face. “I’m Hermione. Nice to meet you.”

Chapter Text

Hermione smiled at Draco, a wide, real smile he couldn’t remember seeing from anyone in a very long time. He returned it with one of his own. “Well, I’m actually heading back to that little cafe on the pier. Would you like to walk with me? We could get a cup of coffee? Talk about strange houses with strange women lurking about?”

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. “Or not, that’s fine! Are you headed the other way? It doesn’t matter. I’ve probably interrupted your peaceful seaside stroll, hmm? Sorry about that…” The words that were tumbling out of Hermione’s mouth made less sense as she continued.

“Hermione.”

Pausing, she looked up at him while pulling wayward ringlets out of her face. He had an amused look on his face. “Sorry, I tend to ramble.”

“I’d love to walk with you to the cafe. And get coffee.” His amused smile had been replaced by a smirk.

“I have to warn you, the coffee is exceptionally bad.”

“Nevertheless, please, lead the way.” He swept his arm out then as Hermione let out a soft laugh and began walking. Draco tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers and followed.

Side by side, they made their way along the waterline. Hermione learned that Draco was from a wealthy family as they jumped away from the waves. She had asked him what he did for a living, and looking somewhat embarrassed, he admitted to being a willing beneficiary of nepotism and worked under his father in a section of the Ministry that wasn’t one that was discussed in polite society. She laughed again at his very passable attempt of noble aristocracy. The sound of her laughter made Draco’s heart beat faster. She told him that she lost her parents in the same accident that affected her memory. She paused after that, looking horrified, and began apologizing again for dumping so much heavy information on him. He just smiled and waved a hand. “Please don’t apologize. Our experiences make us who we are. Again, I can’t imagine how painful that must be, but I find that I enjoy learning more about you.”

“You do?”

They had turned away from the water and were clamoring up a small dune. At the top, there was a jagged path that led to the parking lot of the cafe. Draco reached the top first and extended his hand toward Hermione. She placed her small hand into his and smiled. He could practically feel her magic humming with his at the contact. “Yeah, I do,” he said with a smirk and a wink. Gods, what was he doing?.

“Do I know you?” Draco pulled the door open for Hermione and she brushed past him, looking up at him expectantly for an answer.

“No, I’d say not,” he said, shaking his head.

She studied him harder as a waitress sat them at a booth and dropped two sticky menus on the table between them. “You’re sure? We’ve never met? I feel like I know you. It’s really easy to talk to you.”

“I’d definitely remember you,” he told her. “Two coffees, please,” He told the waitress, Gerri, according to her nametag, before she had a chance to turn around. “But I know what you’re saying. It is easy for me to talk to you too. You feel…familiar?” Gerri rolled her eyes, turned, and left the table mumbling.

“Hmm. I get that familiar feeling a lot - the specialists I see say I probably always will. I’ll walk down a new street that I swear I’ve been on before. I followed a stray cat through a park last week because I thought I knew it. The first time I came out here I saw that little cottage and it seemed so familiar, like I’ve been there before.I’ve never gotten that feeling around a person though. Everyone I meet always feels like a stranger.”

Gerri returned, heavily setting two mugs of coffee on the table with a small plate of sugars and creamer packets.

“Everyone?” Draco frowned. “There is no one you remember? Since…well, how long are you talking about?”

Hermione pushed the small plate closer to Draco, picked up three sugar packets, and extended them to him. He plucked them from her fingers, tore the tops away, and poured them into his steaming mug. As he set the empty packets on the table, he paused, looked down at them, then back up to Hermione, eyebrows pulling together while he tried to figure out how she knew how he took his coffee. She was gently blowing across the top of her own coffee. “The last thing I remember is returning home from a camping trip with my parents. I’d just turned ten.”

An uncomfortable, cold feeling started to rise within Draco. “And you’re…” he prompted.

“I just turned 23.”

Draco wasn’t exactly sure how accidents could affect a person’s memory, but he was very familiar with what an obliviation could do. “Er, what kind of accident were you in? I mean, I’m sorry, you probably don’t like talking about it.”

“No - it’s okay! As long as we don’t only talk about me over coffee.” She smiled at him over her cup. “I’m not really sure how much more I can say though. I was in an accident about 4 years ago. I can’t remember it, but was told by the doctors at A&E it was a fall. I was found by a hiker at the bottom of a ravine off of a hiking trail in the Lake District. From what they were able to piece together, I was camping with my parents. Maybe I fell, and then they fell trying to get to me? Or, one of them fell and I fell with the other trying to get to them? Either way, they didn’t survive the fall. I was in hospital for two months. Two volunteer nurses took me to their funeral.

“My father had a sister, my aunt June. She took it upon herself to start visiting me and helping me get settled back into life. She moved in with me in my parent’s house in Surrey. She was an artist and we drove out to the seaside when we could because she liked to paint the sea. I love to read, so I was happy to curl up under an umbrella with a book or two for hours. My parent’s house was in Surrey. She stayed with me there for a couple years, but she passed away. After that, I just wanted to get far away…so, I sold the house and moved here to Tinworth. And now, I work at the library here and well, take long walks on the beach.” She finished with a laugh and a shrug.

Draco’s mouth had slowly fallen open while she described her ordeal to him. His mind was spiraling around the muggle neighborhoods and doctors she was talking about. The fact that she couldn’t remember anything past the age of ten. Being as inconspicuous as possible, Draco tried searching for where she would keep a wand in the cropped muggle jeans she was wearing. “So, you were seen and diagnosed by, er, doctors?”

She chuckled. “Well, yes. And neurologists. Who else would diagnose me?”

Fuck.

Draco wasn’t sure what to say to her, but she was looking at him, waiting for a response. “Right, neur-golo-gists. That’s what I meant,” he finished weakly.
She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could verbalize it, the bells at the door of the cafe clanged to life and a loud, “DRACO!” cut through the quiet chatter of the cafe. Both whipped their heads toward the man making his way to their booth. Draco sighed and rolled his eyes as his friend closed the distance between them. He practically threw himself into the booth next to Draco, flashing a toothy smile, then turned his attention across the table. “Ooh, hello, new friend,” he quipped while shaking his mop of dark brown curls out of his face. “And what’s your name? I hope my grumpy mate here isn’t bothering you.” He turned a feigned expression of concern back toward Draco. His bright blue eyes practically sparkled with mischief.

“Hello, Theo,” he hissed. “What do you want?”

“Well, it would have been nice to know we were pulling a sickie. What the fuck?”

Hermione laughed quietly, watching the two glare at each other.

“Do you know what a hard time I had finding you? I appar-”

“Shut it, Nott!” Draco cut him off viciously with a sideways glance at Hermione, praying to all the gods that Theo would understand not to bring up apparition.

Theo, being the intelligent and loyal friend that he was, immediately picked up on Draco’s shift in tone. Hermione did too, for that matter, and was now looking at them with an eyebrow raised in concerned interest.

“Er, apologies, Hermione. Meet my friend, Theo Nott. Nott, meet Hermione.”

Chapter Text

Theo leaned across the table and pulled Hermione’s hand toward his mouth. Draco did not miss the gentle squeeze and the raised eyebrow that accompanied his light kiss and quiet “Hermione, dear. I’m charmed.” He then turned his body toward Draco, pulling a knee up to rest against the back of the booth. “As I was saying, you prat, how dare you skip out and leave me to deal with your father? Gods, man, are we not friends?”

Gerri had returned and asked Theo if he’d need a menu. “No, love, shan’t be staying, but thank you.” Draco didn’t miss the pink creeping into the ladies cheeks, and he was sure Theo was probably winking at her.

“Did it occur to you that I wanted to be alone, Nott?”

“Preposterous. And obviously a lie, here you are with the lovely Hermione.”

“Oh, that’s my fault - I’m afraid I interrupted his solitude,” Hermione said.

“Well that was good of you. Can’t let this one brood too long. Look - he’s getting frown lines. He’s only 22 for Mer- er, God’s sake. He already looks far past a quarter of a century, wouldn’t you say?”

Draco scowled at Theo before turning an apologetic gaze toward Hermione. “Before you think any less of me, please know that while yes, technically I call this idiot a friend, mainly we’re just co-workers.”

Theo clutched at his chest and sucked in an exaggerated gasp while falling back against the seat.

“Anywho, Hermione dear, I’m afraid I have to whisk your new best friend away. To be fair, he was mine first though. He’s skivved off for far too long today and I need his help on a project at work. I’m sure you understand. I promise I’ll return him to you this weekend, would that be okay?”

Hermione was blushing at this point, and Draco was trying not to strangle his former best friend. “Of course, I’m so sorry to have kept you -”

“No, no! No apologies from you. Thank you for keeping him in one place for me to track down.” He winked at Hermione then before turning to Draco. “You, arsehole, outside in five minutes.” Turning back to her, he bent gracefully and kissed her hand again. “Truly, a pleasure. I can’t wait to see you again.” With that, he turned and while practically skipping back to the front door, called over his shoulder, “Preferably this weekend! Draco, get her address!”

Draco’s fingers were itching to pull out his wand and hex Theo in the back, Statute of Secrecy be damned, but refrained when he realized that Hermione was laughing quietly. “Your friend is - “

“Idiotic, I know. Poor boy, can’t help it I’m afraid.

“No, he was funny.” She was pulling muggle money from pocket and which inspired Draco to lay a hand over hers, stopping her. She turned her face up to his, an eyebrow raised.

“Let me get this. I had a wonderful time getting to know you, and if Nott hasn’t properly terrified you, I would like to see you again.”

“Well, thank you. And yes. I’d love that. I’ll be at the library all day on Saturday - I’ve put together a book drive and will be helping collect and organize. Sunday though, I’ve no plans.” She held out her hand then. Draco looked at her hand, then back to her, not understanding what she was doing. “Er, your mobile? I’ll put my number in.”

“Oh! Well, no, I’m afraid I left it back in my office. You, of course, are under no obligation to give me your address, no matter what the funny man said. How about the beach again? Around lunch time? Meet me at the little cottage with the shells?”

“Perfect,” she responded as her face lit up with a smile.

After that, they walked together to the parking lot, where Theo was leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. As soon as they emerged, he flicked it away and bounded over to them.

“Nott, I swear to God if you open your mouth I’m going to murder you.”

Theo, not opening his mouth, smirked and walked away from the pair. “Well, my car is just there,” Hermione said, pointing to a small, silver hatchback. Draco walked her to it and after clumsily trying to help her into it, they parted with a wave and a promise of a Sunday beach stroll. Draco watched her drive away, conflicting emotions warring within. How did she not know she was a witch? Who obliviated her, and why? Why did it matter so much to him? And was that… attraction he was feeling? Probably not. Probably just curiosity.

“Draco?” At some point while Draco was stupidly staring down the street, Nott had silently crept up behind him.

“What, Nott?”

“Why does that witch think she’s a muggle?”

“Unsure. I think she’s been obliviated though. Very curious.”

“Ah, sounds like you want to have a little chat with The Obliviators. Should we take this back to your father? I know he’s close with that wanker Rookwood in Magical Accidents -”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’d rather do more…reconnaissance myself.”

“Of course, mate. Good idea.”

“Nott?

“Yeah, mate?”

“Fuck off.”

The next morning, Draco arrived early to the Ministry, hoping to be so busy by the time his father arrived, he wouldn’t have to explain to him why he took an impromptu day off of work. After arriving at his desk, he pulled a thick folder labeled “Project Obscura” from a large stack toward himself and began leafing through it. The sharp sound of quills scratching against parchment and the dull hum of conversations between his coworkers faded into the background as tried to make sense of the notes that had been charmed to rearrange themselves if someone without proper security clearance attempted to read them.

It wasn’t long after Draco moved on from “Project Obscura” to “Obscura Initiative” that Theo sauntered in, a cup of tea in each hand. “Morning, Drakey. Still sulking about me ‘interrupting’ you yesterday?”

Draco did not look up. “Firstly, arse, don’t call me that. Second, I am not sulking, I’m working. You should try it.”

“Ew, no thank you.” He peered at what Draco was looking at. “That doesn’t look like working. That looks like obsessing over our new friend.”

Draco glared up at him then, his grey eyes flat. “She’s not your anything.”

“Well not yet, but obviously we’ll be best friends before long. Who else will she have to complain to about you? She’ll need someone who really understands.”

Draco sighed. “Gods, you’re the worst.”

“Nope, that’s you. I’m the best friend with endless patience that puts up with you.”

“Anyway, like you’ve noticed, something is very much not right with her. She doesn’t remember anything past the age of 10, Theo. Whoever obliviated her took every memory of magic. Most of us start presenting around that time. She doesn’t remember ever learning she’s a witch - and if she ever has any accidental magical outbursts, they haven’t been strong enough to concern her.” He slammed “Obscura Initiative” closed and reached for “Project Umbra.”

“Very strange indeed. She should be quite powerful. I could practically feel her magic vibrating under her skin.” Theo pulled “The Mystery Protocol” toward him and frowned at it.

“There is something about her that’s so…familiar. She said she thought so too.”

Theo looked up with an exaggerated look of adoration on his face and said simply, “Aw. That’s…adorable.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Opening one of the thick project folders, Theo said absentmindedly, “She could have been in the war.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’ve read some files on war survivors being obliviated in order to move on. They were so destroyed over it, they asked for it.”

Draco pondered this. He could understand wanting to forget the horrors of Voldemort coming very close to returning to power. But removing horrible memories of torture, fear, and pain were one thing - removing over a decade of your life, that’s something else entirely. He shook his head at his friend. “No, I don’t think so. That’s too much time.”

“You’re sure you want to dig into this? Seems like trying to find out more about an obliviation of this magnitude would piss off whoever wanted these memories buried in the first place. Sounds like something your father or his friends might not like you poking around in.”

Draco snorted inelegantly. “Since when have I cared about the opinions of my father or his horrible friends?”

Theo looked up at him with an expression that clearly said, “Do you really want me to answer that, Mr. My Father will Hear About This?” Draco returned his look with his own expression that said, “Don’t You Dare Try to Hold My Misguided Youth Against Me.”

“Well, I’m definitely in. This sounds exciting. Problem though.”

“Hmm?” Draco responded, pulling “The Veil Project” toward him.

“How the fuck are we supposed to learn anything from these files? They’re all redacted to shit.” He gathered them all in a neat stack and then fanned them across the table. “Fancy names though! Do you think it’s someone’s job to think of these names? I bet I could do that job.”

Draco again, didn’t even bother looking up. “Might be too much work for you, Nott.”

“I think not! I’ve got one - “Obscura Maxima! You can have that one for free.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Hmm, I think you’re right about all of these though. We either need to get promoted or find something else to help us research.”

“Right. You work on the promotion. I’ll go home and have Tilly bring me wine while I get started in the library. Yours might be bigger, but mine has more about dark, mean shit, you know?”

“Wine? Really, Theo? It’s nine in the morning.”

“No matter! Taking a page from your book and doing whatever the fuck I want today. Kisses to daddy for me, yes? Bye!”

Draco watched him slip the files under his jacket before turning and leaving the way he came.

Chapter Text

Meanwhile, in Tinworth, Hermione Granger’s day began in the quiet sanctuary of the local library. Sunlight streamed through the wide picture windows, casting golden rays across the rows of bookshelves. Hermione hummed to herself as she organized the books that had been donated for the book drive. She meticulously catalogued each donation and stacked them on rolling carts. There was a comfort in the routine, a simplicity that felt safe and familiar. 

While she worked, the memory of her encounter with Draco the previous day tugged at the edges of her mind. He had been unexplainably familiar and curiously charming. He was uniquely handsome with his pale hair and skin and silver eyes. He was unlike anyone she could ever remember meeting, and yet, still familiar. 

“Excuse me, miss, I’m looking for a book about er, witchcraft. You know - witches. Wizards. Potions. Brooms?”

Hermione blinked at the gentleman across the counter from her, looking at her with one eyebrow raised. He was tall, lean, and had a splattering of freckles across his nose. Brilliant blue eyes peeked out from underneath a shock of red hair. She shook her head slightly, feeling silly for being caught spacing out by a library patron and smiled at him. “Witchcraft, hmm? Well - Occult Studies, over there,” she motioned toward the far end of the library, “should have what you’re looking for.”

“Ah, Occult Studies, yes. Silly of me, Could have guessed that one. Thanks!” 

With that, the young man bounded to the direction Hermione had sent him. Her eyes tracked him across the space until he reached his destination. He looked back at her and gave her a small wave and flashed a toothy grin. She raised her own hand to return the gesture, then dropped it as she continued to watch him pull down books, flip through them muttering, and placing them back. 

Returning to her task, she chuckled under her breath, wondering what a young man would need with a book about witchcraft. 

She spent the rest of the afternoon shelving books and answering questions, occasionally passing by the young man. He had made himself at home in one of the overstuffed armchairs and would peek over the edge of whatever book he was reading every time she walked by. Finally, she stopped in front of him and cleared her throat. He looked up and smiled broadly. “Have you found the information you were looking for?” she asked, trying to surreptitiously read the cover of the book he had in front of him. Noticing it, she let out a quiet laugh. 

“Oh, yes! Thank you for asking! This is all so interesting! Do you know that there are people who think magic is real? That there are witches and wizards who just…walk among us?”

“Right, okay. You know…”

“What about you? Do you believe in magic?”

Hermione raised a brow. Did she believe in magic? What an odd question to ask a stranger. He was looking at her expectantly, and she suddenly felt like there may be a wrong answer to give here. 

“Er, well - I don’t know about magic, but sir, your book is upside down, did you realize?”

He looked down at the book and frowned, then turned it around to look at the cover as his cheeks pinked in embarrassment. Hermione chuckled again at his clear discomfort. “It’s okay. A lot of people just like to sit in the library for some peace and quiet. You don’t have to pretend to read, you know?” Hermione noticed the blush on his face and then thought it strange that his skin seemed more tan than it was when he first arrived. With less freckles. And his hair looked darker too, but she supposed that with the fading light through the windows it was just a trick of the lighting. 

“Oh, wow, yes - you caught me. Er, just looking for some peace and quiet, that’s it. How kind of you to not make it weird.” With that he stood and held the book he had been pretending to read out to Hermione. “Would you be a dear and reshelve this for me, I’ve just realized I’m dreadfully late for an appointment.” She grasped it, then, looking back at his face, grew concerned. He was studying his hands with a concerned look on his face, looking suddenly unwell.

“Sir, are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine! Just late - thank you so much for your help with the peace and quiet. Ta!”

He pushed past Hermione quickly and made a beeline for the exit, not sparing a single glance back to her as he disappeared through the doors. 

Draco, unsurprised to find his father’s name signed at the bottom of each redacted report he’d been combing through, ground and ran a hand over his face. He was grateful that this day was almost over, and grateful he had been left alone for most of it. It’s not that he was particularly anti-social, it was just that most people didn’t seem to know how to act around him - son of redeemed philanthropist Lucius Malfoy, youngest marked Death Eater, and underling Unspeakable. Disgraced and living in the shadow of his father and his wealth, but eager to find his own place to shine.

“Well, she definitely works at the library and most definitely doesn’t know she’s a witch!” 

Theo announced this loudly as he rounded a corner and came charging back to Draco’s desk. Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “We’ve established that, Nott.”

“Well of course we have, but I had to make sure. Due diligence and all that.”

“Where have you been? I thought you were drinking wine in the Nott Library.”

“Ah, I was going to, but I thought I may be able to learn more about her if I paid her a visit. So I went to her library instead.”

“You what ? You spied on her? Did she see you?”

“Of course she saw me - but I was working undercover you see.”

Draco blinked. “Nott, what did you do?”

“Polyjuiced myself as Weasley and watched her work for several hours. Made vague and not at all unsubtle remarks about magic, to which she had no reaction to. Like I said, she definitely thinks she’s muggle.” Theo took a breath, held it, and waited for Draco to explode in anger. 

“Gods dammit , Theo - what the fuck?” Draco closed the file he had been going through, and stood abruptly. 

“Oh, no need to be so dramatic! She wasn’t suspicious at all, and Weasley owed me a favor.”

“I highly doubt you were in her vicinity for hours, in a muggle library , and she wasn’t suspicious.”

“She wasn’t! And I have to say, I do approve of this mission. She’s a beautiful girl, very smart, hardworking, kind to strangers. We must help her.” He paused, looking down at Draco’s desk. “And what have you accomplished today?”

Draco sighed. “About as much as you. Only I wasn’t being a creep about, stalking about her place of employment. Honestly, Nott, what were you thinking? Ugh, nevermind, I don’t care what you were thinking.” He waved a careless hand over his desk. “I can’t find anything close to what she’s gone through. All of the obliviations have been meticulously catalouged, but it appears that there have been some mistakes, or, I suppose ‘over-obliviations.’ Of course, those are the ones that have been redacted. Lucius’ signature is on every single one.”

“Busy man, that father of yours. I still don’t understand how he walked away from the war and back into the welcoming arms of wizarding society at large.”

Draco scoffed. “I don’t believe there is a single rock on this Earth that he couldn’t crawl out from under unscathed. It’s an art.” He gathered up the files and straightened his desk. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll see her again Sunday, maybe I’ll be able to learn something else.”

“I’m supposed to meet Blaise tonight, but if you promise to play nice you can come along too.” Theo waggled his eyebrows at his friend.

“Ugh, no thank you. I can’t stand you two together.”

“Drakey, just because you’ve found a witch to pine over doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t have urges.”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, fuck off. Enjoy your night with Blaise, I’m going home.” The pair were approaching the elevators when Draco suddenly stopped and spun toward Theo. “And don’t you dare bring one of your urges to the Manor. If you want to take a wizard home, take him to your own place!”

“Oh, but yours is so much nicer! Narcissa really has an eye for decorating. My creepy old castle is too scary for the pretty boys I bring home.”

“No, Nott! You floo’d into my mother’s book club last time.”

“Oh those ladies love me!”