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Chapter Text

The Great Hall was once more buzzing with life, with life, and with laughter. The War was over, there would be no more losses, no more fear, no more taboo.
Harry was talking with Ginny, it had been a few months since her brother’s funeral, but she was still affected by it, and of course, her mother’s grief was hard on the entire Weasley family. Ron broke up with Hermione not long after getting with her, he said it was too hard to be romantic while all he could think about was the loss of Fred. She understood, was hurt, but still understood.

Once full, the Great Hall seemed to hold far fewer people, faces were missing, and those that remained had a strange, glassed-over look on them. Yes, the war was over, but now a new war began.

A loud clanging signaled McGonagall’s start of the term announcement. “Welcome! To new students, returning students, new teachers, and returning teachers. I will like to start by listing out a few changes that have come into effect as a result of the Wizarding War. Firstly, there are now mandatory group therapy sessions for all years, you will find them helpful, I hope, to deal with the trauma and pain that this War has caused you. Secondly, as we are still repairing Hogwarts, there are a few places that will be off-limits or will be bordered off to discourage students from going there. Finally, there will no longer be any house-rivalry tolerance. Any misbehaving students will be found and confronted if he or she subjects any other student to bullying, alienation, racism, or other forms of maltreatment. If there are any cases of this at all, come to a teacher we will not report your name publicly, only search and verify your claim.”

The Great Hall was silent. This was new information; of course, it all made sense. McGonagall took another look at the faces of children scarred from the War, she breathed deeply and spoke again, “You will notice that all seventh years and technically eighth years are united in the same overlapping year, we have moved the rest of you forward. If you find the material difficult to learn due to early advancement, come seek a teacher and we will set you up with an older year student tutor. Before you leave tonight, I will ask all seventh years to stay behind to discuss certain changes that only apply to them alone. Thank you. We will take a moment of silence to honor those who were lost in the Great War.”

A deep and penetrating moment it was. The silence was thick, the only noises coming from shaking legs and occasional sniffles.
“Thank you,” McGonagall sighed, and then the food appeared before everyone.

It was a rather quiet dinner, only the new first years were louder; those unaffected. Those whose families were spared the harm of Voldemort’s reign. Those not, ate somberly, without flavor, with guilt. Why were they alive, when so many were not?

Hermione was quiet and did not eat much at all, she found it difficult to swallow as her throat was dry and her emotions felt clogged. She could only take comfort in the familiar faces that surrounded her. Luna, Neville, Harry, Ron, Ginny, people she loved and cared about. People that had become her family. At least they were safe. Ron nudged her lightly with his elbow, “Oi, you won’t do yourself any good by starving, eat.” Hermione nodded numbly but did not answer. She tried to sip her pumpkin juice and felt the urge to vomit. Not happening, Ronald. She knew he was feeling guilty for breaking up with her, that he was struggling to maintain their friendship as it once was. But he loved you once, more than a friend. Her mind jittered. Indeed with most of their years being spent in constant danger and her small relationship with Victor having gone far south, Hermione had not given much thought to romance until Ron kissed her.

Now it felt like that was all she could think of; romance, love, kissing, even sex. It was weird, but Hermione was not called smart for no reason, she knew why she desired these things, she understood the fundamentals behind the biological lust that women and men shared. It was her lack of a way to deal with this desire that riled her up.

Dinner finished quickly and the Prefects rose to lead the first-years to the dorms. Ron got up but Harry tugged him down, “Ron, we’re supposed to stay.” Ginny rolled her eyes in ridicule but it was nice to see some semblance to the old Ginny.

McGonagall rose again, shaking slightly, Hermione noticed. The old witch coughed before addressing the waiting seventh years, “I am sorry I have to deliver this news to you so suddenly, and quite frankly I don’t want to, but the Ministry of Magic has passed a few new laws that directly affect students of your year,” here she paused again, winced, as though in pain and continued forcibly, “The Ministry has decreed that all seventh years will be paired up with a “spouse” with which they will be genetically able to produce offspring. Shortly, you are being ordered to pair with someone compatible biologically and mentally and get married and try for children within three years, starting this year.”

The students were horrified, disgusted even. There was not a moment of silence before the uproar began, there were shouts of “that’s not fair” and “you can’t make us” and “F*ck the Ministry” among other curses that made some teachers wince. McGonagall waved her wand and muttered a quick silencing spell, easily shutting everyone up.

“I’m sorry but I need to finish my announcement, you will have plenty of time to voice your opinions afterward. You will have a couple's counseling classes and parenting classes added to your daily and weekly schedules. I know that this is hard to fathom and hard to accept, and you have every right to feel upset, scared, disgusted anything. Unfortunately, this is mandated by law and there will be consequences for students that do not follow,” She sent a sharp glare at some particular students who were making most of the ruckus, “There will also be benefits for those that do comply, both monetary and socially. Your teachers will be expected to work with you and will base their coursework around your schedule. If there are any remaining questions you can owl your head of house. You are dismissed.”

The renewal of sound came in like angry waves. Of course, the students were upset, disturbed, and disgusted. Hermione was in shock, of course, she had thought of marriage and love and having a family all in due time. But to have it all so sudden and blunt — wait, what? Ron was tugging on her arm and only then did she notice that they were nearly the only ones in the great hall.

“Hermione?” The two friends made their way slowly to the Gryffindor tower. Ron’s voice was soft but roughed out by his grief.

Hermione looked over at him and saw his blue eyes bright with tears, “Oh Ron, I can’t believe they would do this to us, and right after the war?” She pulled him into a hug, feeling him shake with a sob, “I don’t want to do this now! This is not what I came back to Hogwarts for!” He clutched at her unashamedly sobbing while she held onto him, wishing she could say something, tell him it would be ok. Ron sniffed once more before ungluing from her, he wiped his eyes and blushed deeply, “I’m sorry ‘Mione, I- I shouldn’t’ve been so whiny —"

“It’s ok Ron, you have every right to feel like this. Let’s just hope that everything will work out.” She sighed and hugged him again before heading off to the girl’s dormitory, “tell Harry I said goodnight!”

Chapter Text

Hermione woke up really quite early, the sun had not yet risen and the sky was still dark. Hermione lay in bed and let her thoughts wander to last night, unfortunately, she discovered quite quickly that it had not been a dream.

This year was supposed to help her, it was supposed to be a year for her to relax, to simply study and prepare for her life after Hogwarts. Yet here she was, mentally preparing herself to get married. Well, she never gave thought to relationships in general, sure she thought it was cute, she would fancy having a husband who loved her. But it was her studies that had always come first, and when they didn’t, well being with The Chosen One had its own consequences.

But if she would stop worrying for a moment, and think, just think, what would it be like to wake up with a man beside her. Of course, the first question was “who”. But even without that information, Hermione found the thought somewhat intriguing.

Breakfast was bland for the first time in her seven years at Hogwarts, Hermione lost her appetite quickly. It seemed that most of the returning seventh years felt the same. 

All the tables had their share of victims, yet Hermione couldn’t help but think that Slytherin had more than their fair share of perpetrators. She could only spot a few now though, and they seemed very nervous. Hermione bit into her toast, watching the Slytherins with mild interest, why were there so few? She swore their table was full last night. 

Harry nudged her slightly, “‘Mione, you ok?”

“Huh? What, yes.” 

“You’re staring at them too?” She heard Ginny whisper from Harry’s other side, “I think they just don’t want to show their faces now that they know that they went on the side that lost. Hell, most of them were fighting against us!” Ginny’s eyes glowed for a moment in fury and pain but they dimmed down again as Harry brushed his hand over her fingers. 

Suddenly, a loud clang was heard from the Slytherin’s table and a few gasps and yells, Hermione turned around swiftly to see that a few Ravenclaws had gotten up and thrown a bowl of pudding on a Slytherin girl. She was silent and said nothing as the Ravenclaws yelled at her, something along the lines of “traitor” and “death eater”.  The students were then blasted apart by Ms. Sprout. “It is the first day back and we already have fights? Please children!” Slughorn walked in and led the Slytherin girl away. 

Hermione sighed and looked away, this was going to be quite an interesting year. As if to distract the students from the sudden ruckus, the owls came in. With bright purple letters being delivered to the seventh years. Hermione looked over to Harry who was opening his letter already. She looked back to the bright purple parchment in her hands, now or never . Hermione opened the letter to see her schedule, her requested classes were there, along with multiple other classes. The ones that stood out to her the fastest were “marriage counseling” and “Introduction to pregnancy and childbirth”.

“What the bloody hell are they thinking —” Ron muttered under his breath, he ran a hand through his hair and threw his schedule back onto the table. Neville, who had just come to sit down, almost fell backward as Ron leaped up in fury and stomped away from the Gryffindor table. 

“Uh, what happened?”

“See for yourself,” Harry tossed Neville his schedule, and Neville read it with an increasing frown on his face. “What the… fatherhood and commitment? Marriage counseling?” Neville shared a look of horror with the other Gryffindor boys as the first bell was heard.

Hermione and Ginny both headed to the Main Hall, Ginny had transfiguration as her first class, Hermione was simply accompanying her as her first class was not far. Parting ways Hermione checked her schedule one more time, just to be certain of its location. “Therapy in the lower astronomy tower,” she muttered, “so just around here then?” Hermione took a turn and found herself nearly speechless at the change to the astronomy tower. Granted she had last seen it in fifth year when she, Ron and Harry took astronomy for their O.W.L.s, and as such hardly remembered it. All the same, there were now small doors all along the spiraling staircase, and it appeared that each were occupied at the moment. There were a few witches and wizards that stood outside their door reading off a long list of names. Suddenly Hermione heard her name being called out, “Granger? Is Granger here?”

“Present!” She replied loudly, not knowing where to look though she felt a little foolish. “Right here dear,” a woman’s voice said from a little below her, the lady sounded quite amused. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t see where to go!” Hermione gushed her face warming from the embarrassing encounter. The witch looked familiar and it was only a few seconds before Hermione realized who it was.

“That’s not to worry dear, my name is Mrs. Malfoy and I was selected to be your counselor for the school year. Come on inside.” The tall blonde opened the door and beckoned Hermione in. Hermione however, was frozen to the spot. 

Her thoughts began to swarm her mind, why was a Malfoy assigned to the mental care and wellbeing of a student? How could she even be trusted? Was Mrs. Malfoy simply pretending that she had never met Hermione? Was Hermione supposed to forget their history? Forget the years of bullying that her son had inflicted on her? Forget that it was in the Malfoy manor that she was given her disgusting “mudblood” scar by none other than Mrs. Malfoy’s sister? 

“Darling, I can see that you are feeling scared and you have the right to feel as such, that is why the door will be left open, I just want you to walk inside because you are currently on the staircase and in danger of falling,” Mrs. Malfoy walked slowly over to Hermione which snapped her back to reality, she looked at Mrs. Malfoy dead in the eyes and bluntly asked, “How am I supposed to trust you?”

Mrs. Malfoy stopped walking and held out her open hands, “First and foremost, I volunteered for this position on the agreement that I will be under strict surveillance, as well as being interviewed personally by McGonagall and approved by Kinsley Shacklebolt.” Hermione gave her a stern look but released her fist from her robe pocket, in which she had gripped her wand. 

“Secondly, I would like to tell you that the very first thing that was done to me and my husband after the war, was that our wands were confiscated and snapped. So I am completely powerless to you right now. Do you trust me enough to talk just a little bit inside the room, you are holding up some students —”

Sure enough, there was a small line waiting behind Hermione of second years and fourth years, clearly too timid to ask her to move and yet obviously trying to get by. Feeling embarrassed, Hermione finally decided to enter the small room. It was more of a broom closet than an actual room, there was a small sofa, a desk and chair as well as some light and one small painting of an empty chair, its occupant obviously not present. 

“Thank you Ms.Granger, I understand your hesitancy in this situation, but this is why we are here, the Ministry has spoken to all convicted Death Eaters and their families and passed us through a routine of trials that included the use of veritaserum multiple times. Of those that passed the trials and deemed worthy to continue our lives was the Malfoy house. I won't go into too much depth as to why but I hope this information suffices for now,” Mrs. Malfoy finally took a breath, and it looked as though she were waiting for Hermione’s judgment, she had played all her cards and was waiting for Hermione to set down her own hand.

Hermione was quiet, she reckoned that they would not allow anyone suspicious back into Hogwarts, and since Mrs. Malfoy was given a very intimate job with the students, there had to be some trust going on there. Hermione decided she would go along with this, despite her many misgivings, but that she would do so on high alert. Whatever McGonagall was thinking to bring someone like this in, she couldn’t afford to be caught off-guard. 

“Very well … Mrs. Malfoy,” Hermione began, “would you care to explain the point of these “therapy” classes to me?”

Mrs. Malfoy seemed happy to oblige, “Due to the extraordinary trauma that the war has brought on the student body of Hogwarts and the incredible damage that this new Marriage Law will soon inflict on all you young adults, the headmistress saw it fit to appoint each student a therapist so that you have someone outside with whom you are free to talk to. Everything that is said in this room will remain in this room. I will not speak unless you wish me to, I am here to listen and to hopefully help you through this year.” Hermione tried not to scoff, it was so incredibly ironic however, so she covered it with a cough. “Well, I suppose that is understandable,” Hermione said, quickly recovering her disposition. 

Mrs. Malfoy smiled slightly and took out a few sheets of parchment and scribbled down a couple of things, “Since I will be taking care of multiple kids, I will be taking notes during our sessions so that I can remember your case separately from others. These notes will be in a locked safe and no one but you or me will have access to them.” She seemed very intent on the privacy aspect of this entire ‘class’ but Hermione couldn’t see herself having anything of great importance to hide, her only true crime having been to obliviate her parents and failing to find them after the war. 

Mrs. Malfoy then handed the sheets of parchment to Hermione; they had her name written on the top, and in exquisite handwriting too. “I would like it if tonight you think a little about your boundaries for our relationship, that is to say, set a few ground rules for me, what would you prefer I do not talk about? Or are there any words or phrases that I should be mindful of that may trigger you?” She sighed and looked at her hands, “If this feels too uncomfortable for you, do not hesitate to place a request for a new therapist, simply owl your head of house —”

“Who is that? Is McGonagall still Gryffindor’s head? I haven’t found out yet,” Hermione interrupted. Mrs. Malfoy tilted her head to the side in confusion before her eyes widened and she lightly smacked her forehead, “Oh my I keep forgetting, Gryffindor’s head of house has yet to arrive, but it is due to be Oliver Wood, he retired from the Puddlemere United Reserve Quidditch team to assist at Hogwarts. He is due to arrive at any time this week.” 

“Oh,” Hermione felt surprised, Harry will be happy to see Wood again . Suddenly the bells rang again and the class was somehow over. Hermione grabbed the parchments and cast a quick “reducio” on it to slip into her pockets. 

This was truly going to be a different year Hermione thought while heading down the astronomy tower, most of those ascending were Slytherin and she supposed that the sessions were done by house with Gryffindors in the morning. She bumped into a small first-year who looked up at her with huge terrified eyes and ran quickly away, Hermione looked back to the kid as he nearly tripped in his haste to run. Am I that intimidating to them?

“Do you mind moving a bit, Granger?” A husky voice asked from in front of her, turning around ready to retaliate to the impatient prick who was talking to her when she came face to face with Draco Malfoy. His silver eyes looked grey and dim, his skin slightly sallow, and his pale hair, unkempt. 

Without saying a word she slipped by him, though, she had a strange feeling throughout the day, it may have had to do with the absence of a smirk on Malfoy’s face, the sight was unsettling.

Chapter Text

Marriage counseling started next month thankfully, while Introduction to pregnancy and childbirth started after winter break. Having so much time until those classes began, it was easy for Hermione to pretend they didn’t actually exist, and other than the Slytherin’s lack of harassment and the addition of therapy, Hogwarts almost felt the same. 

It was Sunday, the day was bright and warm, Neville, Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Ginny were all relaxing in the Gryffindor Common room, each doing something quietly. Harry and Ron were playing a game of chess while Ginny watched and prepared to play against the winner. Hermione was reading Hogwarts: A History while Neville was researching applications of gillyweed in saltwater and freshwater. 

The atmosphere was calm and mundane, it was almost possible to imagine that nothing had changed and that it would be a wonderful, peaceful year at Hogwarts. 

Almost.

A soft tapping came from the window, Ginny bounced up, “I’ll get it!” The window opened as Ginny let in a beautiful russet-colored owl.

“Ohhh it’s for you, Hermione! Oh, and for me?” Ginny now sounded a bit confused so Harry peered up from his game, “Ginny you ok?” 

She didn’t answer. Hermione looked up from her book and felt her stomach drop, Ginny was pale as a sheet, she looked like she was about to faint, Harry, rushed over to her and helped her into a chair. “Ginny, what’s going on? What does it say?” Hermione grabbed the paper from Ginny’s hands and wordlessly looked it over.

To Ginny Weasly and Hermione Granger, 

You have both been summoned to Madam Pomfrey’s Hospital wing for a thorough examination of your health to secure your position in the new Marriage Law mandated by the Ministry of Magic. You are to show up today by 7:00 PM at any time fitting your convenience. Details will be explained at the Hospital wing. Please do not delay and send an owl with your appointed time. 

Yours, The Board of Female Reproductive Health Administration at Hogwarts

At first, it did not seem like a big deal, just a check-up was it not? But Hermione reread it and suddenly the words “secure your position” had an entirely new meaning. 

“What do they mean by “secure your position”?” Harry asked he read it over her shoulder while trying to soothe Ginny. Ron coughed and muttered, “They act as though this is some sort of privilege”

“They want to fucking check our fertility is what they want to do!” Ginny swore.

“OI! Ginny! What would mum say?” Ron warned her but it seemed as though he were barely restraining himself as it was. 

“It can’t be all that bad?” Hermione offered, ever the optimist. She reread the letter deeming it formal enough, and not rude. In a flash, she had whipped out a piece of parchment and a quill, she jotted down her appointed time in twenty minutes and sent it off with the owl. 

“Hermione are you mad?” Ginny gasped, “Why would you comply with this —  This madness?” 

“It’s not like we really have a choice. Did you not hear what the penalty is for failure to comply? They will snap your wand!” Hermione defended, closing the window as a draft dared to come in. 

Ginny scoffed, “Yeah right, they wouldn’t dare, that’s just rumors Hermione! You really need to learn to separate rumors from the truth,” in a slightly lower tone she added, “They are just rumors right?”

“I don’t want to risk it, Ginny, it’s just a check-up, after all, I’m not getting paired up with someone or goodness knows what.” Hermione grabbed her book and began to walk out of the common room. Ron grabbed her hand and pulled her back, “Hermione,” His blue eyes flashed seriously, “are you sure you want to go alone?” 

“Don’t worry Ron!” Hermione laughed gently, “It’s just a check-up, I’ve done tons of them before, I’ll be done in less than an hour. I’ll see you guys soon.” Ron let go of her hand, but he looked uncomfortable and worried. But he respected her and sat down again. 

The walk to Madam Pomfrey’s room was long, but the day was bright and it was Sunday, so Hermione did not feel bothered by the time. Walking down one of the staircases she noticed that the portraits were all empty, “that’s never a good sign,” she thought. Continuing downstairs she thought she could hear someone crying. It sounded like two voices, one crying softly, and the other murmuring soothing sounds. 

Hermione wasn’t looking for the source of the sound, but she happened to spot them. A little Slytherin girl was holding her arm out where there were several long gashes. At first, Hermione suspected she had done them to herself, but then she saw another girl kneeling next to her and healing the wounds. To her utter shock, it was Pansy. 

The two girls did not notice her yet, and Pansy was too focused on the girl’s arm to look around her. Hermione was now close enough to hear what they were saying.

“A-and I didn’t even say anything! Th-They just pushed me down and started hacking me up with their knife! They called me a - a death eater and a - a racist but I never was a death eater I swear it! I never wanted to be Slytherin and —”

“Shhh, shhh. Just… try to stay out of their way, we’ll figure out how to get them back, we Slytherins have to stay together, you know that. I don’t know what’s up with those crazy Ravenclaws, they’ve been doing it all week now. Just —  don’t tell the teachers, we don’t want to instigate more trouble, not until we have a plan.” Pansy stood up and Hermione could see that the younger girl’s arm had been healed immaculately. Pansy turned around and Hermione was caught.

“What are you doing here! Why were you spying?” Pansy jumped and hid the smaller girl behind her protectively, there was an ugly snarl on her face and she did not look at all as pleasant as she did a moment ago. Hermione held her hands up, “I just was waiting for the staircase to move, I didn’t even see you guys until now, sorry!” Just on cue, the staircase did move and Hermione was now back on her way to the Hospital wing, granted she now wasted five minutes. 

She didn’t run into anyone else that she knew on the way and so she got to the Hospital Wing in excellent time. Madame Pomfrey was already there, waving her wand to organize a pile of parchment into a tidy stack. Hermione walked over to the old witch but before she even got a word in Madam Pomfrey had thrust at her a piece of parchment, “sign at the bottom your date of birth, age, today’s date and time and do not forget to add your gender!” 

Surprised, Hermione filled out the paper accordingly, seeing from the corner of her eye Madam Pomfrey grabbing her wand. After signing her name at the end of the paper Hermione turned it in, Madam Pomfrey did not even look at it before turning to a bed and impatiently gesturing Hermione to sit, and drawing the curtains.

“I’m simply going to run a scan over you as well as perform some basic blood tests. I will just need you to answer my questions as we do so, and you can be out of here in a jiffy.” Not that Hermione had much say in the matter so she sat down and shut her mouth waiting for the nurse to talk first. 

“Have you ever been in a relationship before?”

“Umm, well yes, briefly—”

“Have you had sexual intercourse with said partner?” 

Hermione choked on her words and sputtered out a hasty “no”, but Pomfrey seemed unbothered by her obvious discomfort if anything she seemed to expect it.

“Have your periods been normal? Any family history of ovarian cancer or related cancers?”

“Um no, not that I know of…” at this point even Hermione, who was normally able to keep up with rigorous questioning, found herself at a loss. Not so much with the speed of the questioning as the switches between topics. As if to further her discomfort, Madame Pomfrey concluded her scan and jotted down a few notes on the parchment that Hermione had previously filled. 

“Temperature is fine, blood pressure is normal, breathing is clear, I will want to do an internal on you as well but that will require you to remove your shirt if you please?” 

She wasn’t waiting for consent, rather she was just impatiently waiting for compliance. Hermione was again left with little choice or say in the matter, but the absence of her permission was beginning to trouble her. She slipped her shirt off feeling the sudden cold of the room hit her exposed stomach, Madame Pomfrey placed the tip of her wand right near her navel and whispered a few incantations that Hermione neither heard nor understood.

Finally, Pomfrey turned back around and jotted a few more things down on her paper, and grabbed a syringe from a tray nearby. “Here, I just need a small blood sample to determine your blood purity and general health,” 

“But I already wrote down my blood purity on the form you gave me,” Hermione argued, not too fond of getting poked. Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes, “you really think that people put their real blood purity on a form like this? Goodness knows after the war no one wants to be a pureblood, and then again no one wants to be muggle-born either, it’ll only take a moment I promise you.”

Hermione relented and felt the sharp poke a moment later. “Wait here for a moment while I formulate the results and I’ll be able to give you a general analysis —” Pomfrey muttered as she walked off. 

Hermione rubbed her arm where the syringe went in and looked around herself, she saw Ginny through the curtain standing in the front of the Hospital wing with Harry, they were talking together quietly and waiting for their turn. Pomfrey returned and looked a little disappointed, “Well according to what your blood test and fertility tests showed, you are muggle-born and have a very recessive “magic gene” which caused you to be a witch. The chances that you were going to be magical were about one in ten hundred. In other words, you are very unlikely to have a child who is magical unless you are paired with a pureblood with a long history of magic genes.” Pomfrey turned over the parchment and continued, “your fertility is excellent and your overall health is rather good too, you should get a little more vitamin D and make sure you ingest a lot of iron during your periods because results show you are low on it.” 

Hermione sat feeling quite a bit overwhelmed but she did not get a chance to absorb any of the information as Pomfrey shooed her out of the Hospital Wing in order to get to Ginny.

*****

Draco felt perturbed by the letter, he got it late in the afternoon, a form requesting his presence in the Hospital Wing for a mandatory check-up. Blaise laughed at first and didn’t bother to respond. Within the hour, however, he was swarmed with owls bearing the same letter and was thus forced to respond. Draco did not fancy having a hoard of owls pestering him so he sent in a response and was now heading on his way to the Hospital wing.

The halls were empty, which was to be expected, it was seven at night, most people were in their common rooms. Hogwarts was peaceful at night, yet at the same time, it was terribly eerie. Since sixth year, Draco had loathed being alone, normally Blaise or Pansy was with him, heck he would even settle for Crabbe or Goyle, anything but being alone. The lonely walks reminded him of the nights he spent fixing that damn cabinet, just to bring chaos into Hogwarts, the darkness reminded him of the night he was strapped to that chair and given the dark mark.

As if triggered by the thought, he felt it burn him under his long-sleeved, black shirt. Well, he was at the Hospital Wing now, there was no time to dwell on bad memories. Draco could no longer make the effort to smirk as he used to, as such he settled for a straight face, something he had been wearing for a while now. Pomfrey looked exhausted, she thrust a parchment at him with no instructions, but he reckoned he just needed to fill it out.

A while later, Pomfrey, at last, came back with his results which were less than pleasing. “What do you mean I’ll have a squib if I marry a pureblood?” Draco exclaimed. Pomfrey rubbed her forehead and sighed deeply, “the Malfoy bloodline is so overly concentrated with purebloods that at some point they began to marry cousins and have trouble producing wizard children, most of their kids came out as squibs which is common around the older pure bloodlines. Fertility around the purebloods is also rather poor and explains why most of the purebloods have single children as opposed to multiple.”

“So what are you saying?” Draco tried to keep the bite out of his voice but he had a sickening feeling he knew where this conversation was going. 

“I am saying, Mr. Malfoy, that the sooner you get over your blood prejudice the better because most likely you are going to be paired up with a muggle-born or a half-blood,” Madam Pomfrey quipped. She seemed to have finally had enough of him and whipped out her wand, “Now get back to your dorm before I give you a good reason to be in the Hospital wing.

Draco obeyed without a word, feeling scared and disgusted. His father would freak out, his mother would feel so disappointed, he would be blamed for ruining his family’s legacy, the entire bloodline would end with him, and his family history would end with him! He cursed silently under his breath, just when he thought that Hogwarts could finally give him some peace and quiet. He would need to write to his parents at some point, but there was no need to do so now, after all, there was a chance, however small, that he would end up with someone… not as bad. Perhaps a pureblood, then maybe, he would no longer be such a failure to his family. 

For now, he would wait.

Chapter Text

Hermione was rushing up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower, she had completely forgotten her therapy class and she had — she checked her watch — not five minutes before she would be late! She slipped up the last few steps before finally arriving in front of her therapy room. The door was open and Mrs. Malfoy was waiting for her at the desk. Hermione sat on one of the sofas opposite the desk and waited for Mrs. Malfoy to begin speaking.

“Good morning Ms. Granger, would you prefer to leave the door open today, or closed?” Mrs. Malfoy asked, not unkindly. Hermione did not have to give it much thought, the best way to figure out if Mrs. Malfoy could be trusted, would be behind closed doors.

“Closed if you will,” She quipped, careful not to sound too friendly, this was still a Malfoy, a former Deatheater’s wife, she could not be trusted — yet. Mrs. Malfoy had gotten up to close the door which surprised Hermione as she thought that it would have been easier to cast a simple close charm before she remembered that Mrs. Malfoy’s wand had been confiscated.

“How are you feeling today? Stressed? Angry? Sad?” She was seated again, and her quill was in her hand, clearly ready to take notes. Hermione could respect that, being a good note-taker was her specialty. Which was why she was going to give Mrs. Malfoy a good deal to take notes on.

“I’m unsure of what exact emotions I feel right now, but I can say with certainty that I do not feel fine,” she paused, thinking.

“That’s perfectly normal, the absence of defining your emotions is why therapy will be beneficial for you —”

“I went to the Hospital wing yesterday for a ‘health examination’ and was given some disturbing news.” Hermione cut off Mrs. Malfoy, testing her temper boldly. Mrs. Malfoy did not react, if anything she looked worried and hesitant, and perhaps a bit embarrassed, though why was beyond Hermione’s reasoning.

“Oh? Would you feel comfortable sharing this information?” Mrs. Malfoy asked politely. Hermione frowned, “No I do not mind, you see, Madam Pomfrey told me that since the whole reason for this marriage law was to repopulate the wizarding world that we would be paired with people who would genetically ensure a witch or wizard child. In short, it would be expected for me to be paired with a pure-blood.”

Hermione waited for some sort of reaction from Mrs. Malfoy, some disgust or sign of her prejudice coming out, but she saw nothing. Instead, Mrs. Malfoy finished her writing and looked up to Hermione with a rather blank, but kind look, her eyes wide and trusting. “I can tell that this bothers you a great deal, which is understandable, do you feel like talking about this?”

Frustrated with the lack of a response, Hermione decided to press forward, “Well, I don’t understand how the Ministry would expect hundreds of years of prejudice and hatred for muggle-borns to be forgotten in a single year due to a simple law. Logically, it would be impossible! The systemic racism in the wizarding world is everywhere, even in Hogwarts! I doubt that pure-bloods would relent to such arrangements, even if it did benefit all of us!”

Mrs. Malfoy was only listening at this point and had placed her quill down, when Hermione finished talking she placed her hands together and sighed, “I fear you are very much correct with your analysis. There will be much revolting and disagreement, perhaps even violence. But I believe that the Ministry has good intentions at heart, I’m certain that their goal is to better the wizarding community and ensure that nothing like the Great War will happen again. I would think that in their minds, bringing these two very different and opposed bloods together will eventually mend and fix the broken pieces of the wizarding world.”

She had a point, Hermione reasoned, but then again, she wasn’t looking for a logical response, that she could reason out herself, she wanted an emotional response. She wanted proof that this woman was not hiding behind a facade of kind words and trusting eyes. “I doubt it will fix hundreds of years of hate crimes —”

“But it is a start wouldn’t you say?” Mrs. Malfoy intervened, and then looked abashed for her interruption. Hermione silently felt a thrill go through her, finally a reaction! But it wasn’t what she was expecting, Mrs. Malfoy reacted with an overly optimistic outlook, as though she legitimately wanted the Ministry’s plan to work, what was strange is that this had no direct benefit to her. Then again, she could have been acting this all out, so there was no way to be really sure.

The bell rang and Hermione almost jumped out of her skin. Mrs. Malfoy also looked surprised and reached for her notes, “Well, I’m sorry we have to be cut so short, but if you don’t mind, I’ll take the homework tomorrow, I have gotten a little clogged up with paperwork and have yet to get back into a school mindset. I’ll see you tomorrow Ms. Granger, stay safe.”

“You too —” Hermione said, trying to keep the suspicion out of her voice. She walked down the stairs and waded through the crowd of first years. She then spotted Malfoy walking up to her, no, to therapy. She corrected herself. Malfoy would have quite some guts to come up to her, a war heroine, whilst he was a Death Eater. She purposefully took to the far left of the staircase to avoid him and continued down the stairs.

There was a loud bang suddenly and she whirled around to see a Slytherin first year being suspended by a leviosa charm cast by some fifth-year Gryffindor. The bang had been the kid’s books falling down. The fifth-year was surrounded by some others all taunting the first year, “How do you like it now? Not all high and mighty are you? How do you like being tortured like a muggle, you filthy Death Eater!”

Hermione felt disgusted, getting flashbacks to fourth-year at the national Quidditch match, recalling the muggles who were being suspended by the Death Eaters. Before she could even act though, a certain blonde had moved in. In a second the first year was back on the ground, and excluding the few tears, was unharmed. Draco had his wand out and was pointing it at the few Gryffindor kids with a cold look in his eyes, “he’s a first-year, leave him out of your childish revenge cravings if it’s a duel you are wanting I’m more than happy to oblige.”

Needless to say, the fifth-years were intimidated enough, they left scrambling off to their classes without a second look. Hermione decided she would just brush the entire incident off and continue along her own way, but some small curiosity held her in place. She watched from the corner as Draco watched the fifth-years leave, no smirk on his face. He then bent down to the first year and ran his thumb over the kid’s cheek where there had been tear stains, he said something to the boy and she saw the first year smile and then runoff. Draco looked at the retreating kid and smiled softly.

Hermione felt her stomach drop, Draco did not smile, he smirked, he sneered. Draco Malfoy the Death Eater did not smile. But if ever she saw a smile, it was there on the blonde’s face, but it was gone in a second, so perhaps she had imagined it. Suddenly, those grey slates of ice turned to her. Draco had spotted her watching. There was a look of horror briefly on his face, but it was masked quickly with a snide look of mild disgust. He turned away and walked up the stairs.

Hermione stood with a marginal feeling of panic in her gut. Why she had no clue, but seeing this softer side of her nemesis was disturbing. No, it was more than that, it was downright terrifying, perplexing, and sinister. If Draco Malfoy was capable of kindness, even in the most pint-sized, inconsiderable amount, then, were his actions these past seven years still unjustifiable?

The subject matter was too dense for thought and now Hermione feared that she would almost certainly be late for transfiguration if she didn’t run there now.

The day ended quickly and before she knew it, Hermione was already headed to the Great Hall for dinner. Neither Ron nor Harry were there which was slightly disappointing as she had been hoping to ask them about their therapy classes as well. Strangely Luna was at the Gryffindor’s table. She smiled dreamily at Hermione and waved her over. Hermione walked over to her nodding to Neville who was seated on Luna’s other side.

“Hi Hermione, how are you?” Luna asked sweetly, she was wearing her swirling glasses and it made Hermione slightly queasy to look at them so she looked at her plate and tried for some salad, “I’m fine, not as much work as I thought, so, kinda bored.”

“Did you also get a therapist?” Neville asked curiously.

“I doubt that there is anyone who didn’t!” Hermione scoffed, in all seriousness, she doubted that therapy would only be offered to some students and not others.

The Great Hall filled up rather fast, and for some reason, Hermione felt a lump in her throat, and a pit of worry in her stomach. Harry and Ginny came pretty soon and sat down next to her.

“‘Mione, did the nurse tell you anything about your blood status?” Ginny whispered, she looked very worried for some reason. Hermione nodded, “I will be most likely paired with a pure-blood, why?”

“I’m a pure-blood, but Harry is a half-blood, there might be a chance that we don’t get paired! What if they want to put me with a muggle-born boy instead?”

“Ginny, I told you already,” Harry interrupted, “don’t worry, I will take whatever steps I need, to make sure we are staying together.”

Hermione felt her heart swell with warm pride, Harry was certainly going to make an excellent husband. Ron finally made his appearance, and he looked worse for wear, his hair was messy and he had dark circles under his eyes. He sat down next to Harry and did not look up.

“Hey mate, you look real bad, did you eat today?” Harry asked quietly. Ron shook his head silently. Hermione felt her cheeks spasm in pain as she tried to stop herself from crying. Seeing Ron so beat down, so depressed and morose hurt more than any cruciatus curse she had felt. Before she was able to get a word in to comfort her friend, there was an amplified sound of glass being tapped, a call for attention.

McGonagall stood up, she pointed her wand to her throat and then addressed the Great Hall. “Will all years except seventh please leave the tables and return to your dormitories.” Shuffling sounds and groans went around the tables as all the younger students got up and followed their prefects to the dorms. After the students had departed and the giant doors closed McGonagall turned to address the remaining seventh years.

“I know this will not be easy to hear, and I am not expecting you to be pleased with this announcement, what I am expecting is maturity. Please, for merlin’s sake, do not react irrationally.” She then pulled up a piece of parchment and began to read it aloud, “Dear Hogwarts Students and Staff, it is my greatest pleasure to congratulate you upon returning to finish your seventh year of magical education, though I expect this year will not be easy for many of you, I assure you we in the Ministry are doing everything in our power to ensure the safety and prosperity of the Wizarding world for years to come. I regret putting into effect a decision in your life which should have not come so soon and yet I am faced with no choice. As of this following week, each of you will be paired with a partner who is deemed by Ministry officials to be compatible with you. We will evaluate mental status, personal preferences, genetic compatibility, and above all, an emotional affinity for each other.”

McGonagall paused as if waiting for the torrential storm of abuse by the students, but no one moved, in fact, the room was silent, if by shock or anger it could not be deciphered. Either way, McGonagall took a deep breath and continued, “Forms and surveys will be performed to gain the best result of this mandatory pairing, failure to fill out the forms or comply with the surveys will result in a warning from the Ministry, repeat this mistake and we will have no choice but to confiscate your wand temporarily until compliance is achieved. Your cooperation is mandatory in these times and it is of the highest importance that directions should be followed. Please maintain your excellent reciprocity with us in the following months as we move forward with these plans.”

Finally, McGonagall put down the piece of paper. The entire Hall seemed like it was holding its breath, all the students appeared speechless from rage. McGonagall then spoke, “I know this is not easy to hear. And in many ways, the Ministry is wrong to do this to all of you. Rest assured that this is the far more lenient version of their plan of action, as I contacted them at once to reconsider their original one.” Her defense was aimed at trying to make the students see that their situation could have been worse, but it did not have the desired effect.

“What was the ministry thinking of before?”

“Yeah! What, they expected us to get married by next month or something?”

“This is fucking messed up!”

“The bloody Ministry has no right to do this!”

The screams continued until not one voice was intelligible from the mass. McGonagall rubbed her head before yelling out a loud, “SILENCIO!”

Finally, the deafening screams were muted, “Listen, none of us like this, and none of us wanted this to happen. But it is happening and if you want to continue with your life as normally as possible, please, for the sake of your lives and your parent's lives, do not dispute the laws set by the Ministry. It will only lead to more pain and suffering, none of this is needed after the war. Please, do not make this harder than it already is. You will all be dismissed after you complete your first form thank you.”

The moment she finished talking the charm wore off, McGonagall slumped into her chair looking exhausted. Hermione felt a pit of guilt in her stomach, McGonagall did not want this to happen, and it was obvious that she had done a lot to stop the worst of the ministry’s actions. It would have been interesting to see what exactly were those plans before McGonagall changed them.

A small pop emitted from in front of her, Hermione now spotted a quill and parchment. The form had appeared in front of her so she quickly filled it out. It didn’t prove to be too difficult either.

Ya'll can fill it out if you want XD

Chapter Text

It only took a week for the surveys to get processed, during which most of the Hogwarts students had forgotten about them entirely. Hermione was in Ancient Runes attempting to translate a complicated pattern, when all of a sudden there was a soft tap on her desk. Hermione was so transfixed in identifying the runes that she had hardly noticed Professor Baaseda babbling right beside her.

“Ahem, Ms. Granger, although I am immensely pleased with your dedication to translating that sentence, I was told that you have an owl awaiting you,” She gestured to the dingy window where a large brown owl was hooting impatiently, “Oh thank you, Professor —”

“You seem to still have a knack for mistaking Ehwaz and Eihwaz Ms. Granger,” The professor said with an amused tone. Hermione blushed at the obvious mistake, had she learned nothing from her O.W.L.s? She stood up to fetch the letter from the owl. There were two sheets of paper in the envelope. One which confirmed her submission of the first Ministry survey and thanked her for her cooperation. And another which looked like yet another form. 

Hermione tucked it into her robe pocket intending to fill it out later. But while she sat back down and attempted to retranslate the Runes, she found her line of concentration had vanished and all she could think of was the survey and what more would the Ministry want to know.

Hermione skipped dinner in favor of doing her survey before her other homework, after all, she was curious. The survey was simple and did not take her long to finish. By the time she had sealed the envelope and set it back on her desk to send off later, she heard Harry, Ron, and Ginny coming up to the Common room. 

“Hi guys, how was dinner?” 

“Hermione! There you are, why didn’t you join us?” Harry asked, looking dumbfounded at her being on the couch. Hermione shrugged her shoulders, “I just wanted to get the survey out of the way before my Runes work.”

Ron walked over to the couch and placed a plate of food on the coffee table beside her, “I thought you might be hungry… ” he mumbled while scratching the back of his neck. His eyes were still dull but they had a spark of his old self in them, something soft and comforting. Hermione smiled and gripped his hand tightly, “Thank you, Ron.” He offered a small, sad, smile back and walked up to the boy's dorms. Harry kissed Ginny quickly, wishing her a good night, before following Ron to the dorms. 

“‘Mione?” Ginny called out lightly. Hermione was absentmindedly tapping her quill to her lips, lost in thought, and obviously not too self-aware at the moment. 

“Huh? Yeah, what is it, Ginny?”

“I and Harry submitted the form to the ministry… You think they’ll accept us?” Ginny’s voice wavered a bit, and Hermione realized with a start that this really could ruin Ginny’s life. She got up and hugged her friend tightly, “Don’t worry Ginny, I’m certain the Ministry will allow it. After all, Harry is recognized as a national hero, I doubt they will say no to him,”

“If they do —” 

“Then they have no idea who they are messing with,” Harry suddenly said, he had come back downstairs, perhaps he overheard Ginny’s worries or something. Either way, he walked up to Ginny and took hold of her hand, “Hermione is right, you won’t have to worry about us not ending up together. There is no way I’ll ever let that happen,” his emerald eyes bore deep into Ginny’s, and a silent communication passed between the two.

Hermione backed away from the couple, feeling strangely like a third wheel. She had never felt that way before, but, suddenly, she found herself wishing she had someone that would look at her the way Harry looked at Ginny. She went to bed and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, and worried about what the next day would bring.

The next morning was bright and cheerful, the birds sang sweetly all around the castle windows and the warm sun tinted everything with a honey glow. Hermione couldn’t be bothered to care for her apparel that day so she tied her hair in a quick bun, without brushing it, and dressed in her uniform rather lazily. The Great Hall was once more abuzz with students eating and talking and laughing. For once it looked like there wouldn’t be an issue with the Slytherins. 

Hermione found this rather odd for a while until she realized that the Slytherin table was empty. There was not even one first-year sitting at the long, green table. Hermione turned to Neville who was jotting down some notes for Herbology, “Neville? Do you know where the Slytherins are? I can’t spot any at their table.”

“I dunno, I heard from Luna that some of the Ravenclaws had scarred them away from the Great Hall permanently so they are eating in the kitchens now.” 

“What? That’s ridiculous, Slytherins don’t get scared off so easily, something’s not right,” Hermione quipped. Something was not sitting well with her thinking that all of Slytherin had been frightened off due to a few cases of bullying. No, something worse had happened for certain. Perhaps they were plotting revenge?

The owls came in and the Great Hall seemed to double in noisiness. Realizing now was as good a time as any, she got up and walked a little down the Gryffindor table to where Harry, Ginny, and Ron sat.

“Hey, guys, something’s up with the Slytherins there is not even one in the Great Hall, do you think —” 

Ginny cut her off, “‘Mione, give it a rest for Merlin’s sake if the Slytherins decide that they are not welcome here during mealtimes then great for us and boohoo for them. It’s not our problem where they are all off to, we did our share for the Great War, I don’t think we need to go solving Slytherin’s problems. If you ask me, I think they are getting what they deserve, those stuck up —”

“Ok Ginny, that’s enough, finish your pumpkin juice or I will,” Harry joked, only to get his hand rudely slapped away from Ginny’s cup by a not-so-pleased red-headed girlfriend.

Hermione sighed and tapped her foot impatiently, “I’m serious guys, somethings up,”

“Then tell a teacher or something,” Ron said, absently mixing a cup of tea. He didn’t look up and seemed more down than usual today. 

“OH MY GOD! HARRY THEY SAID YES!” Ginny screamed, there were similar shouts of ecstatic joy and horrified anger around the Hall as the students opened up their letters. 

Harry grabbed the letter from Ginny’s hands and read it over with lightning speed, his eyes growing wider and wider before he erupted in a smile and hugged Ginny tightly, “YES! YES! I bloody knew they would let us!”

Ron rolled his eyes but Hermione could see him smiling slightly. Of course, she didn’t send in any form but hopefully, she too would get good news soon.

The walk to her therapy class was shorter than usual this time, either she wasn’t paying attention or she was practically running, but upon opening the door she found that Mrs. Malfoy was not there. Hermione clicked her tongue in disapproval, meticulous timing was the sign of a responsible person, and so the opposite had it’s fair claims as well. She sat down and took out a few sheets of work for Potions. It wasn’t due until tomorrow, but a head start was always nice. 

When Mrs. Malfoy walked in, she looked disheveled and a little panicked, but her face quickly contorted into a calm mask, one that she wore every day at these meetings.

“I am so sorry Ms. Granger for my tardiness, I assure you it was an emergency —”

“It’s quite alright, what happened?” Hermione asked politely, Mrs. Malfoy seemed genuinely surprised by Hermione’s interest and sat down a little unsteadily.

“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t do no harm to tell you,” She seemed to be convincing herself of the fact rather than talking directly to Hermione. “You see, there was an issue with the Slytherin Common rooms, some students had placed a charmed lock on the doors and Slughorn could not get it to open —” She paused and looked a little worried as she continued, “You know my son, Draco, well, I was just a little worried, see he was a— closely associated with the Death Eaters and I — I didn’t want anything, particularly bad to happen…” 

“I suppose you called in Flitwick?” Hermione guessed trying to ease the tension in the room, Mrs. Malfoy nodded relieved. “Yes, the situation was under control in a few minutes. Anyways, how are you feeling today?”

The change in topic caught Hermione a little off guard and she found she didn’t have a straight answer, “Well, worried I suppose,”

“Oh dear, can I ask what about?” Mrs. Malfoy asked, completely back in her element with a quill in hand. Hermione paused for a moment before deciding to settle on the truth, “my friend has been really… down these past few weeks, and I’ve been meaning to ask him something really important, and I wasn’t sure if to bring it up given the way he’s been.”

“Do you have a reason to think that this ‘thing’ you’ve been meaning to ask, would be triggering to him?” Mrs. Malfoy asked, leaning forward slightly. Hermione hesitated, and answered, “he’s a Pure-Blood, I’m a muggle-born, I was wondering if we should get together… because I don’t want to be paired with someone I don’t know at all.”

Mrs. Malfoy looked surprised for a moment, whether it was because of the question itself or the fact that Hermione decided to share it, wasn’t discernible. “Well, this seems to be a very delicate subject, so I will just give you my honest opinion, you do not need to pay any heed if you disagree. I would think it best to breach the topic gently with him, come around the back end of it if you know what I mean. Ask him relevant questions without being too conspicuous, and eventually get an answer without having to overtly state your question.”

Hermione nodded, truly she was still interested in Mrs. Malfoy, it seemed too unlikely that the wife of a Death Eater would have volunteered for such a position as a therapist. Hermione was still determined to see who Mrs. Malfoy truly was. The bell rang and Hermione got up to leave, “Do take care, Ms. Granger! I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

By Saturday, everyone was on high alert. The Ministry had sent a few more surveys out, all of which were similar to the ones already sent. The final survey on Friday had noted that couples would be announced on Sunday evening, and any last-minute decisions should be sent by Saturday night. 

Hermione felt her stomach do somersaults, she felt queasy and nervous, like extreme anxiety for a test. But for this one, she had no clue how she had done. 

She couldn’t focus on her homework and instead felt like walking to the lake. Hermione grabbed her wand and walked to the common room. Most of the Gryffindors were in Hogsmeade or elsewhere, she spotted Ron in a corner looking at the fire morosely. Thinking that a walk would do him well, she walked up to him and tugged on his sleeve, “Ron?”

“Eh, oh hi ‘Mione,” his voice was hoarse and his eyes were slightly red, but he smiled weakly as if to try and cover how badly he was looking. Hermione sighed and crossed her arms lightly, “I’m going to the lake, do you want to tag along? Some air will do you good.”

“Nah, I’m ok,”

“Really Ron, some sun and wind, I think you need it.” Without waiting for his answer Hermione grabbed his arm and dragged him out of his chair. Ron eventually consented to the walk, and it appeared that he really did need it. His eyes suddenly looked brighter, and there was a faint smile on his lips as he felt the cool air brush against his face.

The two arrived at the lake and sat down on a large stone, overlooking the quaint and calm waters. Ron took a smooth stone and threw it into the water, watching it skip a few feet and then plummet into the deep water. He sighed heavily.

“Ron? Can I ask you something?” Hermione ventured she was nervous, this felt like the right time to ask, yet, everything about Ron conflicted with her request. 

“Yeah, go ahead,”

“You know the Ministry is going to pair us off to random strangers right?” She started, hoping to not scare him off. She saw Ron wince and wondered again if this was a good idea.

“Yeah, like we have a bloody choice —”

“Well, we kinda do…” 

Ron turned to her sharply and his blue eyes pierced her inquisitively, “What do you mean?”

Hermione looked away and muttered quietly, “Well, we could submit a form requesting that we get paired together… I mean since you are a Pureblood and —”  

“‘Mione, wait.” Ron placed his hand on hers, “I love you ‘Mione, but, like a sister. I can’t see myself… with you… like that,”

Hermione felt her heart beat faster, this was not going well, at this rate she would be paired up with some stuck-up Pureblood and goodness knows if he would abuse her or…

Ron coughed, “Actually, I need to tell you something,” He blushed deeply and looked outwards over the lake, “Remember when we kissed that time?”

“Yeah, of course, I do,” Hermione said, slightly confused as to where he was going with this. Ron’s voice shook a bit but he coughed and set it straight, “The truth is, I didn’t know if I liked you, I just… had to make sure of something,”

“What do you mean Ron?” Hermione asked irritated, he was beating around the bush and it was driving her insane. 

“Well, you see I wasn’t sure, but after Lavender, I kinda changed a bit, I didn’t like her at all and well…”

“Oh, Ron just get to the point!” Hermione exploded. Ron looked at her dead in the eyes and said, confidently and without a trace of hesitance, “I’m gay Hermione, I just don’t like girls at all.”

Of course, it was a surprise, but it was a delightful surprise, suddenly Hermione did not feel hurt, but she realized how hard it was for him. This new marriage law would pair him off with a woman! “Have you ever told anyone?”

“I told Fred,” He said bluntly, wiping his eyes. Hermione felt a painful ball in her throat, it was no wonder he was affected so strongly, his secret-keeper had died. His only family member that he trusted with this information had died. 

“Oh god Ron, I’m so sorry,” Hermione took his hand and squeezed it tightly. Ron looked at her gratefully, “I’m sorry ‘Mione, I would, I really would, but…”

“It’s ok Ron, I get it. Did you tell Harry?”

“No, you’re the only one who knows now, I’d rather it stays quiet,” Ron muttered. 

The walk back to the common room was much better than the walk to the lake. Ron seemed in better spirits now that he had told someone, and Hermione felt so much happier seeing him walk with a lighter step. “What will you do then?”

“I don’t know, maybe the Ministry will grant me an excuse or something. I didn’t mark the survey as ‘straight’ I put down ‘questioning’,” Ron laughed. Hermione was so startled to hear him laugh that she almost tripped, but quickly regained her footing. Ron was finally acting somewhat normal again! It made her happier than she ever thought it would. 

Ron decided to tell Harry privately in the boy’s dorms that night, meanwhile Hermione was laying in her four-poster bed and feeling like the world was coming down on her. It would only be a while before she would be paired with someone. Someone she perhaps did not know, maybe someone she did. Quickly she tried to make a list of all the Pureblood Gryffindors she knew. Obviously Ron and Neville, then there was Ernest Macmillion from Hufflepuff. But the majority came from Slytherin. Hermione turned over in her bed, she could only hope for the best. Please just be someone I can get along with.

Sunday passed in a jitter of nerves until dinner time, it seemed as though none of the seventh years ate that night. They all stared blankly at their plates, occasionally looking to the faculty tables. Minerva McGonagall shared their nerves, she did not eat and kept a sour look for the duration of the meal. 

Finally, the rest of the students were dismissed and McGonagall stood up, she coughed and took out a long list of people. “The following is a message from the Minister of Magic. Thank you for your compliance and cooperation these past weeks, we at the Ministry want to remind you that by collaborating with all decrees you have proven yourself to be an outstanding citizen of the Magical community and invaluable to our society. We encourage you to continue showing mutual participation here on out as well. A reminder that these pairings are final, please remain calm and collected while the following pairs are announced.” 

And then the names began to come, at first they were called out in alphabetical order, but it soon became apparent that these were randomly organized. 

“Neville Longbottom and Padma Patil,” Neville choked on his water and Ron patted him strongly on the back. 

“Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley,” Ginny screamed “YES” and kissed Harry full on the mouth, ignoring the eye roll from her brother, but Ron was smiling. 

“Theador Nott and Susan Bones,” The first Slytherin to be paired was obviously not pleased with his chosen spouse, there were a few cries of distress from the Slytherin tables as well as the Hufflepuff table. 

“Blaise Zabini and Luna Lovegood,” McGonagall continued, not even fazed by the reactions, “Dean Thomas and Lavender Brown.” 

Lavender seemed very disappointed, but it was Dean who reacted first “Bloody hell no!” He whispered. 

“Ronald Weasley and Parvati Patil,” Ron went pale and his hands shook. Hermione and Harry both traded a glance, each acknowledging the horror their friend was going through at that moment. 

“Pansy Parkinson and Justine Finch-Fletchley,” More screams of disgust and horror. But McGonagall cast a Silencio and a hush came over the Great Hall, “Thank you, ahem, Hermione Granger and…”

Hermione held her breath, her heart was racing so fast she swore it was going to burst, McGonagall squinted at the paper in confusion, before clearing her throat, “Hermione Jean Granger and Draco Malfoy.”

What.

The.

Bloody.

FUCK?

Harry and Ron looked mortified and turned to Hermione who was feeling very faint. How in the world did she match up with him? Of all people, of all bloody Purebloods, it was Malfoy she was supposed to be with?

Suddenly Hermione felt her entire world collapse, this was it, this was the end of everything, forget a career, forget her dreams and hopes for a wonderful family, forget it all. She was going to be married to a man who’d sooner kill her than live with her. 

“They cannot be serious, there has got to be a mistake, this is not fair!” Harry cried out. Ginny looked equally mortified. Ron turned to Hermione and held her shoulders firmly, shaking her a little, “Hermione, I don’t care what happens, we won’t let you marry him, you won’t get close to that bastard! We’ll talk to the Minister, we’ll get you paired with someone else if we need to freaking leave the damn country we will!” 

Hermione was numb with shock, so much so she could barely hear Ron or Harry over the yells of horror coming from the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables. Hermione was the Queen of Gryffindor in the House’s opinion and Draco was infamous as the Prince of Slytherin, their literal marriage would not just bond these two students, but it marked a change in the ways of Gryffindor and Slytherin. In short, Hermione being paired with Draco meant indisputably that Slytherin and Gryffindor were conjoining, to be forever affixed to one another.

On the opposite side of the Great Hall, Draco Malfoy was fuming. The very audacity of the Ministry to pair one of the most pure-blooded Wizarding lines with a muggle-born, and nonetheless a war heroine whilst he was a Death Eater, was…

“Outrageous! They can’t do this to you Draco! To us!” Blaise yelled. Pansy was sniffing pathetically and crying about how she was supposed to end up with Draco. 

“Draco! Mate! Snap out of it!” Blaise snapped his fingers in front of Draco a few times before the blonde refocused. “Can’t your dad do something? He still works with the Ministry no?”

Truth was, Draco did not know, after the war, his father was held for a long time at the Ministry, his mom was too and he was called over for an interview as well. They used veritaserum on everyone to extract the truth. Draco was given clearance due to his age at the time of his recruitment, but his parents were not let off as easily. Both of them had their magic confiscated and were fined heavily, they were also forced to complete one thousand hours of community service. That was the reason that his mother was here as a volunteer therapist. She went through a vigorous training camp for the three summer months until she was cleared to work at Hogwarts. 

Draco still had no idea what his father ended up doing, all he knew was that his father still served with the Ministry and that whatever it was he was doing, it was time-consuming and draining. 

In a late response, he turned to Blaise and said, “I will owl them tonight, my father still works at the Ministry, perhaps they can make an exception… they have to.” 

Of course, that night was horrific, Hermione could not sleep, not for her own tormenting thoughts, and the soft crying coming from nearly every girl in the dorms. She was happy that at least Ginny and Harry ended up together, it was a small light in this dark future. Laying on her cot, Hermione considered her options. 

She could talk to McGonagall; request to speak with the Minister, but of course, he was not in complete control, he alone could not dictate her marriage. But it was a start. 

There was another option, Ron had brought it up in her mind; running away. But the thought of being forever on the run and worse yet, being away from everyone she loved, the idea alone was harrowing. She could not bring herself to do such a thing, not when she had been running all last year. Even in the safe warmth of her bed now she recalled her extreme terror at night. The hours that she and Harry would spend brooding over the Horcruxes, and her fear when Harry was attacked by Nagini. 

No, she could not bring herself to run. She would stay, tough it out for as long as she could, she would show Malfoy that she had grown. Yet even with this thought, her hand reached over to feel the engraved scar on her arm. “ MUDBLOOD” , that was what she was to him, and he would treat her as such. 

She heard what domestic abuse was like, recalling a friend in middle school who had been away for a while due to his parents fighting so much. Was that her future? Was she expected to simply take it? 

Never. Hermione Jean Granger would not be subdued, she would not crumble. If she had no choice she would fight and win. Malfoy was not going to be the end of her, if anything, she would be the end of the Malfoys. She would be the one to end their Pure Blooded prejudice, she would tarnish and destroy what had been built up for centuries. In her bed, Hermione smiled, “ oh ferret I hope you know what you are in for.”

Chapter Text

Though Monday mornings were notorious for being terrible, this Monday was awful in a special way. After a night of less-than-adequate sleep Hermione found herself wishing that they did not have school today. 

Almost immediately she was confused and angry with herself because Hermione does not fret about work! It was a fleeting thought then , she decided. 

Ginny was brushing her hair and fixing her uniform on her cot as Hermione walked by towards the bathrooms. “Good morning Hermione!” She sounded chipper as ever, which was a good thing, but then again, she had no reason to feel otherwise , Hermione thought. Suddenly, with a strong wave of nausea, Hermione remembered last night. 

“Hermione Jean Granger, and Draco Malfoy,” McGonagall’s voice rang out in her memory. The horror and disappointment came washing over her again, feeling like a drenching typhoon. The emotions blew themselves over her heart and pushed her back and forth between anger and fear; confidence and insecurity. She heaved over the sink feeling her head spin and her breath hitch, last night it seemed surreal, it seemed fake. She could have imagined it. But now, in the brightness of the sun, which burnt away all lies and deceit she saw clearly that this was no jesting matter. 

After seven years of magical schooling, seven years of fighting what chaos the Death Eaters had brought during Voldemort’s reign. All this time, only to be rewarded by a forced marriage to a Death Eater himself. There was no way she could do this. 

“Hermione? Are you ok?” Ginny rushed over to the brunette and grasped her arms securely. “Oh I’m so sorry Ginny —  It’s just that —”

Hermione did not finish her explanation because at that moment her tears came flowing down. Once they started there was no end, her incoherent mumbles were met with soft, soothing rubs on her arm, Ginny just held her there. She had little to say, indeed there was little that could be said. 

For the first time in a very long time, Hermione missed class that day. She did not turn up at all, she and Ginny stayed up in the common room. At first Hermione would just cry and have barely any energy or breath to explain herself. Within an hour she had cried herself into an uneasy sleep. She woke up well past two.

“Oh Godric Ginny! Why didn’t you wake me! I’ve missed all my classes today! I’ll have to call in sick! I’ll have to write all my teachers notes, I’ll talk to McGonagall and —”

“‘Mione stop,” Ginny pressed a hand over Hermione’s mouth, she smiled cheekily and said, “Now that’s much better, you need to try this sometimes.”

Hermione pushed her off lightly and rolled her eyes, Ginny ignored the eyeroll and continued, “Don’t worry about classes, Harry told me that at breakfast McGonagall cancelled all classes for a week to help us adjust, it’s only for seventh years though. She said that tomorrow we start Couple’s Counseling and Bonding sessions, as well as Marriage Counseling.”

Hermione rubbed her forehead, she felt drained from her long cry, and groggy from her nap, her eyes burned and her cheeks ached. In short, she felt awful. She fell backwards onto her pillow and sighed, “Great. Well, at least that is one problem less on my list.”

“Do you wanna go have dinner? I told Harry to meet us down in the Common Room when you woke up.”

Hermione sat up confused, “How does he know when I wake up?”

“He doesn’t,” Ginny said simply, she grinned, “That’s why I just made him stay there since ten,”

“GINNY!” Hermione threw her pillow at the red-head hoping to godric that she was joking. She dashed out of her bed and took a second to tame her hair into a horrid pony at the back of her head. 

Harry and Ron were sitting quietly at the couches, Dean, Seamus and Neville were on the opposite sides. They were playing a game of Wizarding marbles and it looked like Dean was winning. 

“Hi ‘Mione!” Harry called over Ron’s bent head. 

“Hi, sorry if you had to wait up for me, Ginny didn’t wake me up at all and —”

“Nah, it’s alright I told her I would be in the Common Room today anyways.” 

Hermione sat down on the armrest of the couch, “So, what’s new? Any announcements I miss?”

Ron scoffed, “Like I was even bothered to listen,” Dean grinned, “same mate, they can talk to a wall, might give them more attention than I would.”

The small group shared a chuckle, but Hermione was not too keen on missing information, looking over Harry, she spoke to Neville, “ok but actually, is there anything I need to know?”

“They moved therapy to the last class of the day, the teachers thought it would work out better to talk at the end of the day versus the beginning. Um, other than that, the new classes are starting now. You know the —”

“Yup, I’m aware,” Hermione sighed and hopped off the chair, “Well, I’m headed down to the Great Hall, anyone ready to join?”

“We’ll be there in a sec, I’m about to kick Dean’s ass here!” Ron responded before flicking a marble and accurately hitting another out of the ring. Dean let out a frustrated groan whilst Ron grinned like an idiot. 

Hermione walked down the hallways barely aware, she still felt groggy from her nap and was hoping that eating might help her refocus. 

Passing by a darkened classroom she felt as though she were being watched. The strange tickling feeling crept up her shoulders and made her shiver. Suddenly her footsteps sounded strangely alone, her breathing seemed louder than usual, and each dark corner seemed to hide a malevolent face. There were no ghosts in sight, and goodness knows Peeves was gone for the year (the Bloody Baron made certain of that).

Hermione felt uneasy, and her senses were on high alert. This is ridiculous, I’m in Hogwarts! I’m in the safest place in the wizarding world right now, I shouldn’t feel like this! But she did, and the more she walked, the more she felt ill to her stomach. 

Suddenly a female voice called out from behind her “Expelliarmus!” 

Hermione had barely whipped her wand out before it was blown out of her reach. She whirled around but couldn’t see anyone, “Who’s there! Come out!”

“I’d prefer my identity be hidden for now Mudblood .” The voice sneered back from an entirely new location. Shoot, they must have an invisibility charm or something, Hermione thought. All of a sudden the voice called out a new spell, “locomotor mortis!” Hermione’s legs snapped together as the leg-binding charm took immediate effect. She fell onto the hard stone floor and only barely broke her fall with her hands. 

Laying flat on her face she felt a hand grab her hair from behind and pull it taut. “Listen to me filth, and listen good. You did not win this war, you and your kind are going to pay dearly for what you have done, so don’t think for a second that you are going to get away with marrying a Pure Blood, nevertheless a Malfoy.” The voice pulled her hair harder, eliciting a small scream of pain from Hermione, she was beginning to panic. 

“He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not dead. He will return and restore the rightful rule of the Pure Bloods. You have not seen the last of the Dark Lord’s reign!”

Hermione felt the hand push her face forcibly down to the stone floor and then everything blacked out. 

Draco Malfoy was sitting on the Slytherin common-room couch thinking about the announcement that was going to ruin his life. Marriage in general scared him, but knowing that he was supposed to marry her? The know-it-all, the war heroine? The truth was, Draco was terrified. 

All his life he trusted that muggle-borns were lesser, that they were somehow mistakes and did not deserve the magic they got. Since his first year however, Granger proved his ideals false. She was not worse at magic comparatively, she was the best. She was not different in a sense of her humanity, she was human like him. It was disturbing and rather annoying, of course Draco hated her. She, by existing, challenged his view of the world. And then last year happened. 

Draco would be lying if he said he was sad his side had lost. The fact that Dumbledore’s Army had won the war was, in every sense of the word, relieving. For the first time, Draco saw his parents not tense, his father suddenly was a new man, his anger and yelling ceased completely, that was not to say he became the opposite. No, just not stressed as much. 

Draco too saw in Blaise and in Pansy a relief that the war was over, the threat of Voldemort had not just been for the muggle-borns but for anyone who showed the slightest disloyalty to him. It was draining. 

Interrupting his thoughts, Blaise walked in looking worse for wear, “Hey mate, bad news.”

Draco heaved a sigh and looked at his friend, the boy’s skin looked better since the war, his dark complexion had a grey tinge before, whereas now it was back to it’s warm and comforting glow. Even in his eyes, Draco saw a hint of the younger Blaise from first year, “What is it?”

“You know how we got couple counseling? Yeah well I just found out what it is.”

“Oh?”

“They are gonna make us build a flat together… so we can live together.” Blaise fell onto the couch dramatically. But his words rang in Draco’s mind, “What do you mean ‘live together’? We aren’t going to stay in our dorms?” Panic made him angry, but at this point he was downright terrified.

Blaise didn’t get a moment to explain because Pansy walked in then, holding out a letter to Draco. “Hey, it’s from your parents.”

“Oh shit. They probably heard who my partner is through the announcements.” Draco smiled hopefully, there was a chance his father could pull a few strings and get him out of this mess. There had to be. 

He opened the letter and was surprised to see just a short note. 

Draco - 

Meet me tonight from the Slytherin common room fire. 

I will connect you to the floo network home, we need to talk.

- Dad

Draco started at the last word, not since his first year had his father sent him a letter signed as “dad”, it was always signed with his professional signature. Granted, his father did change quite a bit, at least now he would be able to see him. 

“I got to go,” he said, getting up. Blaise looked at him in surprise but shrugged, “Whatever mate, good luck,”

Almost as though it were beckoning to him, the fire sputtered a few green sparks. Draco grabbed a bit of floo powder from a bowl near the fire and called out his home address. 

A few nauseating seconds later he arrived in Malfoy manor. The fireplace led directly to their living room, a wide-spaced glowing interior. Emerald couches sat over a large circular rug, embroidered with intricate designs that Draco had traced over millions of times as a child. 

His parents were seated on the couches silently, they were waiting on him. He came and sat on a foot rest near them.

“Draco. I’m glad you came,” His mother started, she looked worried and her face was drawn into a worried expression. His father was silent. His long blond hair was pulled back in a pony, and his cold eyes seemed empty. His hands were clasped in front of him and he seemed lost in thought. 

“Yeah, um, what is it?” 

“Draco, I think it’s time to tell you… the truth.” Lucius looked up finally and Draco was startled to see his father looking so sincere.

“Truth?”

“Draco, I was a selfish man before the Dark Lord’s reign, so that when he came to power, my first thought was to save my family from any strife and danger. I joined the Dark Lord because he was gaining power, and to not join him was to be against him. When he fell, I pleaded to the other side, I could not bear seeing you or your mother suffer. Once again, when the Dark Lord had risen, I did what any selfish man would do, I joined the side that would mean protection for my family.”

Draco didn’t find this alarming, in fact, he sort of expected this, “Well, I mean, I get it.” His father shook his head again and looked away, “Draco, do you recall our lessons before Hogwarts?”

Of course Draco remembered them, they were some of his favorite times with his father and mother. Times his parents took to teach him history, mostly of their family line. Times they taught him moral lessons, and of blood status.

“We taught you to treat muggles and muggle-borns as inferior, we always feared that the Dark Lord would return and… I was terrified he would test my loyalty by testing you. By testing your teachings. I had no choice but to teach you his methods, teach you hatred, teach you prejudice. But it was all in the name of keeping you safe. All in the name of my selfish desire to keep my family safe.” His father rubbed his forehead and suddenly he looked old, old and tired.

“Draco, I cannot pretend to be heroic, I cannot pretend to be a brave man. I am not like those men who opposed the Dark Lord, I feared him. And most of all, I feared ending like the families that were torn apart by him. I did not want to lose you or your mother. I could not bear that loss a second time.” 

Draco raised an eyebrow, this was not what he was expecting, nor was he feeling ready to accept this, he knew his father was a coward, but did he really expect that telling him this would change things? Did his father think that by telling him all his life had been a great hoax would change Draco? Would change the man he had raised?

“What do you mean? A second time?”

“Your mother struggled to conceive, as it is with many Pure Blood lines, our generations are so slim and limited that it became harder and harder for new children to be born. Alive that is.” 

Draco could guess the rest, his mother had obviously miscarried, which traumatized his father, thus leading him to do anything to keep his family safe. No matter the cost. 

“Listen to me Draco, I know this is hard, and I know that it challenges all you were taught, but I need you to hear me out,” His father finally looked up at him, his eyes were laser focused on his son, “I heard of your partner, the Granger girl. I know she is muggle born, but you have to trust me on this, I want you to try to get along with her.”

That was the line, “WHAT?” Draco exploded, “AFTER ALL THIS TIME YOU ARE TELLING ME NOW TO ‘GET ALONG WITH HER’?” He jumped up and felt his face burn up with anger, no fucking way he was supposed to believe this, there was absolutely no way at all his parents expected him to — 

“You are joking right? Please tell me you are kidding.” His parents were just silent, his mother covered her eyes and stifled a sob.

“This was something I never foresaw, I had always assumed once things returned to normal, you would understand. I did not foresee what an impact raising you like this would have, I was a blind fool.” Lucius sighed.

Draco remained silent. What was he supposed to say, um, yeah you kinda were?  

“The bottom line is, you will have to marry the Granger girl,” Lucius finally said. He turned his stern gaze on his son and added, “This is not in my power to overturn. I do not hold that office in the Ministry, I am lucky to be able to keep myself occupied there, even if temporarily.”

That was the final straw, there were no more outs that Draco could think of, he could contact the Ministry themselves, but it was a low chance they would even reply to him because of his history. Draco returned to the fire.

“She really is a nice girl Draco, I know it will be hard early on but —” His mother seemed lost for words, “Try to be civil with her dear.”

Draco smirked, “Oh I’ll be more than civil mother, don’t worry,” the green blast of fire blinded the Malfoys for a moment and then Draco was gone.

“He’s going to make her life a living hell isn’t he?” Lucius asked, staring at the falling embers. Narcissa sighed, “Yes, yes he is.”

Chapter Text

Hermione was not looking forward to the day. She would have a couple’s class at noon and then therapy, it being only nine in the morning left her feeling anxious. She was obviously nervous for the couple’s activity (of which she had no idea what they would be doing) but therapy with Mrs. Malfoy was what she really was beginning to dread.

Part of her wanted to think that Mrs. Malfoy would pretend to be ignorant, but the other part of her wanted to see the lady Malfoy break her cover, she wanted to see if her therapist was the same person even when supposedly becoming her mother-in-law. 

Harry was seated on the couch in the Common Room, Ginny lay on his lap perpendicular to him, he was reading Quidditch Through the Ages and Ginny was playing with his hair. They were the picture of love. Ron was nowhere in sight so Hermione walked over to the love-struck couple to ask about his whereabouts.

“Harry, Ginny, have you seen Ron?”

“Nope —” Ginny popped, but then looking up to Hermione saw that her friend was serious, “I think he went to walk with Dean or Seamus. Something about the lake.” 

“Right, thanks,” Hermione said hoping that they were keeping her friend good company. For the third time that morning she checked her watch; 9:16 AM.

“I suppose I will go to the library then until counseling, see you then,” Hermione made her hasty retreat feeling nerves tickle her stomach. It was going to be a very interesting day, whether it would turn out good or not was to be decided. 

The library was strangely occupied, many of the students seemingly finding comfort in the quiet and calm of the books. Hermione walked through the isles, not really looking for anything but simply scanning the colors, the thickness, the age of the books. A particularly thick book cover caught her eye, it was really quite ginormous, what topic would have been so interesting that it required these many pages? She pulled it out a crack but was disappointed to see it was just a catalogue of charms.

“I didn’t think you would fancy a dull charms book Granger, I took you for a more aspiring witch,”

The voice made her jump, her wand whipped out and ready to stun who ever it was that spoke. Being met with the cold grey eyes of Draco Malfoy though, her wand lowered and she recollected herself, “Malfoy,” she addressed coolly. The blond threw her a book, small and black, “I figured you would be here, pity you are so predictable Granger,” he said it with a sneer, but his eyes betrayed his emotions, he was relieved.

Despite better reasoning, Hermione looked down and the book in her hands. The book was made of leather, dyed black. The title was nonexistent and there were no words on the pages, “Charmed I presume? I don’t understand,” Hermione asked.

“I thought it would be the wizard equivalent for texting, that is to say, if you need something, or if I am needed for some ridiculous couple training, you can write me a message, I have the mate,” He flourished out another identical book from behind and tucked it out of view seconds later. He pushed off the bookshelf and sauntered past her without so much as another word.

Hermione had to head to counseling soon enough, as such she left the library early. Her thoughts were a little muddled and she felt some leaden dread fill her stomach, why on earth would Malfoy give her something like this? It had to be a trap of some sort, goodness knows what he could be planning. She turned a corner and felt fear and paranoia begin to take hold. The book could be charmed, it could kill her. But Malfoy would have to be more careful than that, so it would kill her based on her own actions, perhaps if she were to write in it then it would kill her.

Hermione frowned, her legs felt heavy and suddenly her stomach twisted again, perhaps he would even go so far as to cover her death as a suicide. Was he so daft that he thought she would blindly trust him? She would have to run tests on the book, she couldn’t simply throw it away, if it was truly dangerous then she would be throwing away her only evidence of how dangerous Malfoy was. 

Her breathing was more rugged than needed when she arrived at the set counselling room. It was a ginormous classroom, with dozens of small tables set with two chairs. It was cozy and warm, a small fire far in the room bursting with a rainbow of sparks. Soft music was being played somewhere and the melody drifted down sweetly. Hermione walked in, she observed plenty of couples and singles already seated, each table had a nameplate on it. She spotted “Potter” and then “Zabini” before finally her eyes landed on the dreadful surname “Malfoy”. 

Hermione pursed her lips and approached the empty table, there were sheets of paper set in front of each chair, both faced each other. Hermione sat down and put the book in her robe pocket, noting that it was small enough to fit easily. 

Eventually more couples came in and filled out the seats, some sat down and began courteous conversations, others refused to acknowledge each other. And then there were some who took great notice of each other, but for all the wrong reasons, sparing no time in snide comments and hurtful insults. 

“Ahem,” The cool voice came from Hermione’s other side, she wheeled around to see Draco leaning casually against a pillar. He looked as carefree as ever but she noticed his arms were tightly crossed over his chest. 

“I was worried you forgot about class,” Hermione quipped, she had no idea what else to say and personally hated awkward silence. Malfoy scoffed and pushed off the column to come round the table, “I suppose I should be flattered that you worried, though for future events I hope you make some use of my gift,” he sneered at her, but for some reason it looked tired and lacked his usual arrogance. 

“Thank you everyone for making your attendance to this first couple counseling class,” Hermione heard McGonagall’s voice as everyone finally settled down. A soft hush fell as attention was focused to the tall witch at the center of the room. Draco sat down pushing his chair as far away as possible without appearing too obvious. Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes as the Head Mistress began to explain the day’s exercise. 

“For all future classes, you will be expected to comply and work together, all the activities will be done just between you and your partner, there will be no grouping of couples, you will find your instructions on the boards,” She gestured to the walls which all had large black boards, white ink began to show on the dark background as the instructions wrote themselves out. 

McGonagall walked to the podium where she adjusted her spectacles and spoke again, “For today, we have a guided conversation planned for you, the questions will be on the parchment you will each take turns answering them appropriately, for your benefit, tea has been provided.”

Even as she spoke tea on saucers appeared on the center of the tables, Hermione brightened up considerably as a result. Ever since the adventures of her seventh year, she found a new appreciation towards food and drink, tea especially. 

“Oh bloody hell, this is worse than I thought,” Draco mumbled, clearly annoyed. Hermione thought that was funny, here she was, a war heroine, and there he was a Death Eater having tea and a polite conversation, it was the epitome of irony.

“Well then, why don’t I start,” She offered, and took his silence as complacency. Hermione reached over to the single parchment and rolled it open, a few questions were there, and directions telling them to both answer each question.

“Right, well, question one asks, what is your favorite place to go to and why?”

Draco rolled his eyes but spotting the Head Mistress coming their way he answered reluctantly, “Quidditch pitch.” Hermione barely restrained her eye roll, “Why?”

“It’s the only place I don’t have bad memories from —” Draco smirked; it didn’t reach his eyes. Hermione felt her stomach drop, well obviously they all had less-than-savory experiences but it never occurred to her that, well, the other side had bad memories aside from those in which they lost.

“Your turn Granger, or will you continue looking like someone struck you with a hammer for the rest of the session?” Draco hissed, he was impatient and looked uncomfortable. 

“Right. Um, Hogwarts for me is my favorite place. Everything here I tie with good memories, I suppose even the sad ones aren’t too bad.” She looked away back to the parchment and sipped her tea, “Question two asks what were our plans for the future,”

“Cleaver of them to use past tense for that, as obviously those plans are complete trash now,” Draco sneered, again it did not reach his eyes, he was studying his friend now watching Blaise with Luna with something akin to amusement.

“Why so? I still plan to become an Auror, and I really doubt you can stop me in that endeavor,” Hermione said coolly. Draco’s steel eyes met her deep brown ones and he studied her closely, “I suppose so. Perhaps I misspoke, my plans would be completely binned then, not yours.” 

“Why? What were your plans?” Hermione couldn’t help her curiosity.

“Don’t feign interest in me Granger, it really isn’t flattering,” He snapped at her. His eyes betrayed his vulnerability however. 

“I’m only curious really.” She defended then decided to move along as he was not showing any sign of answering her question, “Right, next one is about favorite pastimes.” Now she could hear his scoffing smirk before she saw it, “Really, I doubt this is a hard one, reading some sort of history book would do it for you Granger?” Draco teased, but his fingers had begun drumming on the table and he looked tense. 

“No. Shockingly to you maybe, I am a bit more interested in other topics at the moment,” Hermione retorted. She really wasn’t sure why she had to say that, in all honesty she did enjoy reading, but as of the late her interest had been in romantic novels, things she had previously found disgustingly cheesy and lame. All of a sudden she couldn’t get enough of the delicious literature, the descriptions being so vulgar and exotic, and absolutely enchanting. She could recall every single book she had read, and yet none stood out in her mind as clearly or significantly as the romantic literature she had been reading as of late. 

“No. Really Granger?” Draco gave her a knowing smile which was ridiculous because how on earth could he know what she was reading? She turned the question to him quickly, “What about you? I’m sure calling muggleborns mudblood got kinda old for you so what do you do?”

Draco winced as though he were slapped, he looked at her furiously and spoke with venom lacing his words, “In case it passed by your infinite wisdom Granger, I wasn’t raised precisely the right way, nor has it been a favorite pastime of mine to call people… such names,”

“Don’t pretend you can’t say it, you’ve directed it plenty of times at me. What changed Malfoy? Why won’t you say it?” Hermione didn’t know why she was goading him, maybe it was her curiosity, maybe she just wanted to see him back to his normal self, maybe he really has changed a bit, or maybe — 

“I’m not going to use that word Granger, and you’ll do good to drop that subject.” There was a dangerous twist in his words that hinted at the selfcontrol he was about to lose. Hermione sighed and sat further back into her chair, “Sorry, that was uncalled for on my end —”

“Bloody right it was —”

“I was trying to apologize,”

“And I am waiting,”

“God Malfoy you are impossible!”

“Cheers,”

“...”

Hermione shook her head but couldn’t help a small smile come onto her face, yes he was an idiot, a self-centered prick and mildly infuriating, yes he was on the other side of the war and was none-too good as a person. But damn it if he couldn’t keep up with her conversation no one could. Bickering with Harry and Ron was always easy and they normally shut up after she had one word in, this conversation seemed charged on both ends. It kept her on her toes and for some ridiculous reason, she loved it. 

No. She greatly enjoyed it. Yes. She very much enjoyed to argue with this pompous prick called Malfoy.

The bell rang surprising them and everyone departed. Hermione noted the time and realized her therapy was right now. Swallowing the lump in her throat she got up, Malfoy copied her movement and suddenly they were just standing, both unsure if they should part without saying anything or if there was some sort of formality to have, Malfoy coughed and muttered, “I expect we’ll be seeing each other again Granger,” 

“Ta Malfoy,” She quipped and took her bag in hand. Luckily she didn’t have to wait long to get to the therapy room. Mrs. Malfoy was waiting inside.

“Ms.Granger, you look well,”

“Um, right thank you.” She sat down opposite Mrs.Malfoy and fiddled with her thumbs nervously, should she breach the subject or would Mrs. Malfoy do so? Just as she was opening her mouth to speak, the blonde tapped a stack of papers into a neat pile and made eye contact, “ I realize you will want to talk about the partnering that you have received, I am aware of who the Ministry chose for you —”

And I disapprove. Hermione filled out in her head, barely hearing Mrs. Malfoy’s next words, “And I hope you know you have my full support.”

“I… what?” Hermione was now confused and greatly suspicious, this did not seem likely at all. Mrs. Malfoy took a breath and tried to explain, “I understand you have a long-running feud with my son, Draco, I also understand that you were subjected to his harsh teasing. However, I want to ask you to trust me, you have no need to, and if this feels uncomfortable in any way you can place a request for a different therapist, I will not be hurt in the least.” 

She looked at Hermione sincerely now, “I want you to know that I will keep everything confidential, I won’t talk to Draco, I will not tell him I had you as a patient, all I’m hoping is that… well, I want to be there for you. I owe you so much, you and your friends, if you let me help you, in some way, in any way —” Her voice hitched and she looked down, “ I would be so grateful.”

Hermione was quiet for a moment before choosing her words carefully, “I don’t know if I’ll remain with you, but I’m willing to try. You intrigue me Mrs.Malfoy, and you already know a lot about me, I’m not yet confident with you. Nonetheless, your son as my future spouse, but…” And now Hermione really concentrated, her eyes narrowed and she spoke through tight lips, “But I have plans for my future and if getting there requires going through this mess, then fine, so be it. I won’t threaten you, but I think that what remains unsaid is clear enough,” Her voice carried a bit of spite in it, she hadn’t meant to come off so self-assured but now that she was in the role, there was no reason not to. 

Mrs. Malfoy looked at her with wide eyes, trusting eyes , Hermione noted with a tinge of disbelief and shame. “Thank you so much Ms. Granger, I will do my best to uphold your trust and maintain it regardless of what decision you make.”

Then the bell rang again.

Chapter Text

Mrs. Malfoy’s promise seemed out of place at the time, but as night came and passed and Hermione got to think on it more, she found that she really hoped the blonde would live up to those words. A promise with such gravity would prove substantially that Mrs. Malfoy had a turn of heart.

And adamant as she was, Hermione believed in second chances. This had no effect on her feelings for Malfoy, which remained strong and bitter. She sat with the other Gryffindors and watched the Slytherin table with cross eyes, feeling wary of the day’s events. Ron tugged her sleeve and brought her back to the present, “Oi, ‘Mione, the bloody git doesn’t need your attention any more than you are forced to give it to him,” He seemed upset so she turned to him questioningly, “I was just thinking Ron, I only happened to be staring at him whilst planning his murder,” Ron cracked a real smile at that and the two chuckled quietly.

The hubbub of the Great Hall was distracting and nice, the air was full and there weren’t any taught strings pulling Hermione’s nerves. She sipped her breakfast tea and let herself breathe lightly for once, “Morning Hermione!” Dean and Neville blundered past her to sit on Ron’s other side, both looked ruddy and windswept, their cheeks flushed from the cold of outside, “been to the quidditch pitch?” Hermione guessed. Dean nodded while stuffing a large roll into his mouth, more to hold it rather than to eat it as he grabbed marmalade and butter. 

“Dean told me he spotted a pixie outside and wanted help to catch it,” Neville offered with a shrug, “Turned out to just be a colorful wood nymph.”

Hermione was only partly listening, half of her attention had been diverted to watching Ron, for some reason he had stiffened up and was quite red. He was eating scrambled eggs clearly as an excuse to not talk, but his eyes continued to dart to Dean, watching him carefully, seemingly wanting to say something. Hermione couldn’t spend any more time deducing her friend as the first bell rang and Couples counseling would begin in a few minutes. 

She couldn’t help feeling a little curious for the day’s events, there was going to be another class added in today, dealing with marriage and married life, not to mention that she still hadn’t got to explore the strange book Malfoy had given her. She decided to go to the library after class to do some research on diagnostic spells so she could check the book, goodness knows that since second year she had been awfully suspicious of books given by Malfoys. 

She arrived at the same classroom expectantly, thinking that it was strange how so many couples were already seated here. Her eyes spied Harry and Ginny at their tables talking quietly and with worried expressions, Hermione’s eyes drifted to the dreamy blonde who was doodling on the piece of parchment laid in front of her. Zabini looked bored but was not making any effort to get away from her, rather he occasionally allowed his eyes to scan her work in mild interest. 

Hermione sat down at the same table with the surname “Malfoy”, almost by habit she pulled out a quill and small pot of ink whilst her eyes trained on the black board. It was blank for now, but she assumed it would fill out soon enough. 

Her attention was drawn away from the board by the unmistakable sound of Draco Malfoy’s posh tenor voice, “I really could not be arsed into another useless discussion, they bloody well have something better planned.”

“Well someone’s looking rather chuffed to be here,” Hermione couldn’t help the snarky tone that weaseled it’s way out with her words. Malfoy looked at her with a peculiar expression which she couldn’t pin. Normally, when Hermione was on the receiving end of a Malfoy expression, it included disgust, hate, or disdain, this new expression was… humored. 

She didn’t have long to dissect Malfoy’s expression as the bell rang and he sat down with a huff, again pushing his chair as far as possible from her. She rolled her eyes and turned her focus to the board. 

Today you will work on your collaboration and team-building skills by planning out your flat, using the given models on your tables, organize your flat together, try to agree on colors and on furniture placement because your finished project today will dictate how your flat will look. This means if you fail to place a bed or couch or desk, those items will not be in your flat.

Just as she finished reading it, a small pop sounded from the table, the parchment was gone and in its place was a small, shallow box. It was a room layout and looked very much like any small flat in London. There was a clear sitting room, a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and even a small washer. 

On the side were dozens of small furnishings; sofas, tables, beds, desks, lamps, dressers, coffee tables and more. Malfoy’s eyebrow was raised and he looked at the setup incredulously, “We are meant to play with a doll-house, that is what we are spending the next two hours on?” His hand ran down his face in exasperation and he cursed under his breath viciously. 

“Better than sitting us for a lecture on domestic behaviour, though goodness knows a few lessons wouldn’t hurt you Malfoy,” Hermione quipped, she wasn’t too bothered, rather excited if she were honest. As a little girl she loved playing with her dollhouse, mostly decorating and furnishing the house though, playing with the characters was not really her thing. 

“Shut up Granger,” Malfoy muttered, but it was half hearted and he was already inspecting the layout.

“There’s plenty of room for a bath and shower, I say put both,” He conceded, apparently unable to resist the idea of a private bath the size of a small jacuzzi. Hermione didn’t mind, and set the two corresponding pieces in place. For the next half and hour, the two of them quietly agreed on the placement of couches, desks, tables and chairs, both of them ignoring the ‘elephant’ in the room. Quite literally, the room in general. There was only one master bedroom, making it quite clear that they were meant to sleep in the same room. There were options for a large, king-sized, four-poster bed, a smaller queen size one, and two separate full-size mattresses. 

Finally, the entire flat was furnished, they even managed to work out a spell for the color coordination, they agreed on a Gryffindor scheme for the living room near the fireplace, and a cold, Slytherin scheme for the bathroom and kitchen. The washroom was a combination of silver and gold. All that was left was the bedroom, an awkward silence ensued. 

“Right, so, the bedroom,” Hermione coughed unsurely, Malfoy looked at her and smirked, “What’s the fuss Granger? Can’t bear to think of what goes on in there?” She felt her face burn from the blush and looked away from him. 

“God Malfoy, would you just grow up!” She hissed, then heard him sigh as in reluctance, “I suppose I wouldn’t be too bothered to share a room, just don’t get any fancy ideas of hopping into my bed Granger, we are not quite friends yet —”

“GOD NO!” Hermione felt like punching the dirty bastard, and he was all smiles and obviously pleased at how riled up she got. Hermione breathed in deeply and then, without talking she began to furnish the bedroom, placing two separate beds on opposite sides of the room, on in the upper right, and one in the lower left, she then colored half the room with a Gryffindor scheme and the other half Slytherin with a glaring divide in the middle. The Gryffindor side had a gold carpet, and the Slytherin side had silver, the line where the two clashed was clear as day.

“There!” She huffed, satisfied with her work but still bothered by Malfoy’s snarky comments, “You have your side and I have mine, whatever you do on your side is none of my concern, so long as you do not set a foot on my side.”

“Territorial are we Granger?” Malfoy sneered again, but he looked at the room with a raised eyebrow clearly disapproving of something.

“Oh bother what is it now you bloody idiot!” Hermione could barely hold herself back at this point, he was just so…

“How do you expect me to get from the door to my bed if the door is located on your—  ,” here he inserted air quotes, “territory?” Hermione felt slightly abashed at this catch and was about to say something along the lines of ‘whatever’, but Malfoy had tapped his wand a few times and trailed a small silver and gold path from the door to the center of the room where the two sides split. 

“There, now we can follow the little road to our own beds. Fair enough Granger?” The question was answered already in his tone of satisfaction but she graced it with a sour answer anyway, “brilliant.”

“Glad we agree on that point at least.” Malfoy then waved his wand with a muttered spell to lock everything in place and then dropped back down to his chair looking every bit as exhausted as though he had furnished the entire flat himself. 

Now that their own project was done, the noise of the room seemed to double, Hermione could hear arguing from many tables and winced at how many pieces of furniture had been thrown around in rages, some even snapped. Well she was glad to be on the decent side of the spectrum, despite expecting the opposite. 

A little while later and for the first time, Hermione found herself and Malfoy walking to the same class, marriage counseling was supposed to begin momentarily and they didn’t have a chance to find their ideal friends in the mess of students rushing to get out of the room. As such both had taken a deserted route, seeing as each preferred to travel without company, which ensued them walking together, alone.

The silence was terribly loud and noticeable. Hermione wanted to talk, wanted to say something for the sake of there being sound and not this strange and thick silence, but she had not the faitest clue as to what. She was saved when Malfoy coughed and spoke first, “Do you know where the flats will be located?”

“Um, from what I gathered, it will either be another tower in the east wing, or they will be scattered around wherever there is room,” she was grateful it was something she could at least answer. His curiosity satisfied, Malfoy seemed content to walk the rest of the way in silence. 

Marriage counseling began as a lecture, it was desperately boring, going through the fundamentals of marriage, and of course who better to teach the history of marriage than the history of magic professor, Binns. He drolled on and on about ancient customs and traditions making even Hermione desperately bored. None of it was new information, and none of it was going to be tested. This was her exact definition of useless knowledge. 

“Bloody hell, if this class moves any slower I swear I will kill Binns again!” Malfoy was rubbing his eyes from boredom and his threat came out more like a whispered plea to Hermione’s ears. She couldn’t help her sigh of agreement and quick smile at the joke, then again she was never one to cover her smiles. Except now she made eye-contact with him and a jolt went through her veins to see him looking back at her. He was leaning over his desk, forehead supported by a weary arm glancing over her way with a look of confusion, and unguarded too. 

The strangest sensation of liquid lava rushing through her body and unsettling her stomach surprised her greatly. The last time she had a reaction like this was with Victor Krum in fourth year. His combined flattery and interest in her had insured a warm fluttery sensation in her stomach every time she looked at him. 

The strange moment was over because the bell rang and Malfoy looked away, the absence of that feeling in her stomach felt cold. She left the classroom after Malfoy, intending to go a different route, she had to analyze those feelings, because for that brief moment when their eyes met, she did not see Malfoy, but rather Draco, and that in itself was terrifying. 

She followed the crowd aimlessly, therapy wouldn’t be for another few hours and she didn’t have anywhere to go. Voices floated over and under her, the sound of walking and rushed movements was a droll hum to her thoughts. She heard whispers of conversation, catching a few words in passing. 

“ That’s just scary —”

“They all want him back, just look!”

“Will return and the war will just start all over again!”

“They need to be put away…”

Hermione became uncomfortably aware that the students talking were from every house other than Slytherin. Suddenly, she recalled that day, being cursed into a stiff, motionless, victim on the floor. Hearing a girl’s voice hiss at her “You did not win this war, you and your kind are going to pay dearly for what you have done. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not dead. He will return and restore the rightful rule of the Pure Bloods. You have not seen the last of the Dark Lord’s reign! ” Hermione frowned, this did not bode well, not in the slightest. 

Walking to therapy was calming, some sort of ritual that became routine for her in the past few weeks. She sat down and watched as the quill moved delicately between white fingers. Mrs. Malfoy seemed genuinely surprised to see her, she did not evidently expect Hermione to return.

“Good afternoon Ms. Granger, I’m delighted to see you, how are you feeling?”

“A little concerned if I’m being honest,” Hermione began, wondering if she should breach that conversation. Mrs. Malfoy tilted her head curiously, “Oh, would you feel comfortable telling me why?”

“It’s nothing really,” Hermione decided against telling her, after all, rumors and singular attacks were nothing she hadn’t seen before, this was not new, and thus not to be fretted over. “Actually,” She continued, “I was hoping to talk about the counseling class.”

“Oh lovely, I heard you were designing your flat, correct?” Mrs. Malfoy smiled endearingly. Her bright blue eyes suddenly felt warm and Hermione found herself gushing over all her design choices and how much fun it was. “I actually really loved doing it!”

“Was Draco being civil with you?” Mrs. Malfoy asked with the slightest hint of trepidation. Hermione gave the subject some thought and then nodded, “He was fairly cordial.”

Going to bed, Hermione felt a little excited thinking about the next day, she couldn’t help but hope that perhaps not all was lost. If she and Malfoy were able to act civil with each other and there wouldn’t be too much clashing, well, then she did have a chance at the life she wanted… right?

Chapter Text

Hermione’s hopes were dashed the next day, counseling was supposed to be an outing to Hogsmeade and almost immediately Malfoy had separated from her in the small village. It was expected, after all it would be terribly awkward to try and spend more time together when they were not exactly being forced to. 

Hermione meanwhile decided to do a little light shopping, she had returned to the library the previous day and found a handy book on identifying enchantments and curses. There was a simple recipe to a potion that would identify the different spells cast on any item by changing to a specific color, those colors had to be charted specifically and identified to separate hues and undertones to categorize the specific spell used. Unfortunately the potion called for some rather rare ingredients that could not be smuggled out of the potions office easily. 

Pippin’s Potions was the best place to start her search and so Hermione headed there first. The day was rather cold and a sharp wind bit the sensitive skin on her cheeks until they were ruddy and numb. Her scarf did little to protect her and for some strange reason Hermione felt a small empty throb in her chest, she felt… lonely. Around her couples walked, occasionally hand in hand, more often side by side or simply walking in the same direction. 

She didn’t see anyone she knew, which was just as well, the rules explicitly stated to associate with her partner and not with anyone else. Though being caught alone would be rather bad, being caught alone and chatting with some other students was certain to get her in trouble. The potions shop was empty, save the store owner in the back, and it smelled strongly of burnt leather and some sort of sharp spice.

Hermione allowed herself time to browse though the ingredients, separated by category and ordered by alphabetical properties. A light dust revealed just how few students came by this shop. She found the newt tails rather quickly and managed to find a dragon scale for a decent price. The asphodel powder was a little more difficult, and she only managed to grab a few ounces. Frog spawn slime, armadillo shell fragments, gillyweed, and other mundane ingredients were found and tossed in her bag. 

“What’ll you be need’n all that fer?” The clerk asked, he was wiping a filthy cauldron behind the counter and had been eyeing her for the past few minutes.

“Project.” Hermione didn’t feel like elaborating to the old man, his dark beady eyes made her feel apprehensive and a little frightened. Placing down all her items she waited for him to set aside the rag and count up the total, “Twenty six galleons and eight knuts,” He looked at her for a moment and grinned, revealing a row of yellowing teeth, “For the dragon scale that is, the rest will be ‘nother thirty galleons and fifteen sickles.”

Hermione sighed deeply, this had turned out to be more of an expense than she was happy for, but she couldn’t risk being surprised by some curse that Malfoy had set up for her. She dug out as much money as she could from her pockets hoping it would cover it. She was three galleons short however when the clerk looked over to her with a disgruntled expression. 

“Isn’t there a chance that you could lower it? Please?” Hermione hated to beg, but she didn’t have any more money on her and was feeling quite desperate at this point. The clerk raised one thin, dark eyebrow at her and opened his mouth in what was an obscene leer. “If ya be wantin’ a discount, I could see about that in the back… if you know what I’m hintin’ at pretty lady,”

Hermione willed down the urge to vomit and instead played innocent, “Sorry?” 

“Ya know, you me, cup o’ tea or somethin’ private,” The clerk leaned forward and touched a lock of her hair, wrapping it around a finger and sniffing it deeply. Hermione blanched and backed away, she took her ingredients and left behind the newt tail which in itself was four galleons. She then ran out as fast as she could feeling disgusted and a fair bit scared, his unwarranted touch reminded her of fenrir Greyback and his hinting towards her. 

She hardly realized that she was running the wrong way until she did not recognize the streets. She swore in her head and turned around trying to find a way back, the roads were now tight and it had started to darken with a forewarning of an early snow. The air was now frigid and she shivered pathetically in between two tall, dark houses. The silence unnerved her, there was no one around, not so much as an open window or light to suggest life continued here. She reckoned that this was the village aspect to Hogsmeade but part of her felt transported in time. She felt lost and couldn’t help the icicle of fear growing deep in her stomach. It did not help that she was alone. Hermione, get a grip of yourself, you are a bloody Gryffindor, now look around yourself and find a way back! She hissed at herself. 

She walked slowly and tried to calm the thumping sensation of her pulse racing in her body. Then she heard voices, they were quiet, and a year of hiding as a muggle-born meant her hackles were raised. She was alert and creeped as quietly as she could towards the sound, she twisted around a corner and saw the source of the whispers. 

A few students, maybe five or six, in long dark robes were talking in hushed tones, all of them had their hoods pulled up and seemed to be studying some sort of parchment inbetween them. 

“That was too risky! You could have easily been caught!”

“Does it even matter, we can get rid of the witnesses easily,”

“The teachers will notice, they always bloody notice!”

“Then we will find a different way, you can obliviate them no?”

“They are scum, they deserve to remember that!”

Hermione felt a shudder of unease as she realized that this must be a hate group, the question was, just how dangerous were they? She heard ‘get rid of’ but could that possibly mean kill?

“Listen, I say, we round up the other members and just redo the entire curse again, there will be no interruption this time and we will be able to finish it!” One voice, heard most through the conversation hissed a little louder. Another cloaked figure tugged the hissing student down with a warning growl, “Shut up fucker do you want the entire school to know you fucking miss Voldemort?”

Hermione pulled in a breath as quietly as she could, this was not good, these were clearly seventh year students, there was insinuated that more existed and they seemed hell-bent on causing some sort of trouble in Hogwarts. Privately she wondered if one of them was responsible for her attack the previous week. 

“Listen, our best course of action right now is to lay low, we can’t arouse suspicion before we even contact Greyback, that will never work. We need to be ready for him, now come on, we don’t have much more time we need to head back.” A girl’s voice hissed from within the group. All of them then stood up and placed their left arms in the center of the group while one reached out for his wand and whispered some incantation too quietly for Hermione to hear. A vibrant green spilled out of the wand and lifted up the sleeves of the robes, there were no Death Eater marks, rather a wolf skull with a snake crawling out of its mouth, the tattoos glowed for a moment before all of the group spread out in different directions. 

Hermione just barely remembered to stay hidden. Her heart was beating a thousand miles a minute and she felt cold with dread. This was not good at all. 

As subtle as she could, she followed in the wake of one of the dark retreating figures, hoping at least that she would then find her way back to the main part of Hogsmeade. Snow had now begun to drift down gently. Soft flakes caught in her hair and melted, making her unruly curls settle heavily on her shoulders, her breaths came out in puffs of mist that she could see and suddenly the lamps on the streets were lit. The dark that came with the falling snow only felt superficial however, she knew the sun was still up behind those dark clouds. She could only hope that it would still be there when she got out of Hogsmeade. 

She had almost forgotten the entire reason for her coming here, until she passed the same potions shop, thanking her good fortune she now headed back to the school, a dark silhouette in the distance of towers and stone. 

She saw more people now gathering and leaving shops, walking towards the same destination, there were laughs and loud conversations but she couldn’t focus on any of them, all that ran in her mind was the students with the wolf tattoos. 

“Granger!” 

The voice pulled her out of the fog and she turned around to see Malfoy walking towards her with a scowl, “Do you mean to ignore all my messages? Or are you simply that ignorant?” He hissed at her when they were within talking distance. For a moment Hermione was confused, what messages? Then she understood, “Sorry Malfoy, I seem to have left your gift in my dorm by mistake, do forgive me?” She asked sarcastically, not missing the eyeroll. 

“Oh, bloody hell whatever,” Malfoy turned to the school and beckoned with his head for her to follow, “Best they don’t assume we’ve been parted all day, Granger do hurry up,” his mumble only barely reached her, Hermione was lost in fear.

Three of the cloaked figures had been leading a student and her partner behind a building, at first glance it looked natural and unforced, but on closer observation Hermione could see the trepidation and fear that marked the two victim’s faces. Without thinking twice she grabbed Malfoy’s sleeve and pulled him with her behind another building.

“UGH! Granger what the hell?” Malfoy seethed, he shut up quickly as she turned her fierce gaze on him for a moment. 

“There’s something wrong with those two guys, they just isolated a couple behind a building, it didn’t look friendly at all, I just need to check!” She whispered at him before slowly stalking towards the four students in the dim alleyway. 

Malfoy whipped out his wand and muttered under his breath, “Bloody Gryffindor, you can’t keep out of danger for more than a second can you?” He followed her regardless.

They spotted the four of them one house over, the two cloaked figures had performed some sort of full-body binding curse and were now leaning over them with some sick expression on their face, “You dirty filth, you just couldn’t wait to get your hands all over his Pure blood did you? You were just dying to get knocked up and destroy centuries of tradition and honor!” One of the cloaked figures hissed and kicked one of the victims painfully to the side. The other laughed and gripped the other victim by his tie, “You are just a fucking blood traitor now, spoilt and disgusting! I wonder if your blood has turned to dirt yet, why don’t we find out?” There was a glint of a knife as it came down on the other victim’s face.

Hermione had seen enough, she ran out and cried out a stupify curse as quickly as she could, she had not counted on the fact that the third cloaked figure spotted her before and blocked the spell before it hit the student weilding a knife. 

She whipped her wand again attempting a disarming spell at the attacker. The cloaked body turned to face her and she saw that he was wearing a mask, reminiscent of the Death Eaters’.

Hermione felt herself knocked back by the resulting incantation of “Depulso!” spoken from one of the other cloaked figures. She felt her body fly back and slam into the brick wall, that was all she remembered before knocking out.

Hermione had no idea how long she had been out for, it could have been five minutes or an hour, her head hurt and there was someone trying to talk to her, she felt herself being touched and prodded and couldn’t help the moan of pain as her senses came back and the pain in her head doubled.

Her vision was too blurry but she could just make out the whiteness of her helper’s hair before tightly closing her eyes again.

She woke up in the Hospital wing with only a slight headache to remind her of the pain, she was alone but the moment her eyes were open Madame Pomfrey had somehow appeared at her side and was rapidly taking her pulse and her temperature, “My goodness child, you are simply incapable of staying out of trouble for more than a few weeks aren’t you?” She tutted, flashing her wand out to check her eyes and responsiveness. 

Hermione only grunted, “Uhg, where… who brought me?” Madame Pomfrey seemed pleased with her observations and began to scribble something down on a piece of parchment rapidly, “Your spouse of course, really quite beside himself, seemed to think it was somehow his fault really, brought you in unconscious babbling about some attack or something,”

Hermione had barely wrapped her head around the idea that she was in the Hospital wing and now her heart thumped rapidly with the idea that she had been completely vulnerable and in Malfoy’s presence for the past, she glanced at the clock , three hours! More surprising was the fact that he was ‘beside himself’ as Madame Pomfrey had put it. That was certainly something.

“Well here you are dear, just make sure to come in if you feel dizzy or overly fatigued,” The nurse passed her the piece of parchment which excused her from further activities that day. Then she passed Hermione a pouch and a small note, “there you go, now off you pop!” And with that the small woman trotted away. The pouch apparently carried all her items that she purchased, extraordinary the newt tail was in the bag as well. Hermione then glanced at the note.

• Granger

Reckoned that a revaler potion normally requires a newt tail, surprised you failed to remember that.

The other two are fine.

Hermione felt a weird tingle in her stomach that had nothing to do with missing lunch. How on earth did he know what potion she was trying to come up with, unless he just happened to know the ingredients for a revaler potion off the top of his head. Hermione rolled her eyes and got up, wondering if her friends had visited. 

She got her answer running into Ron, Harry and Ginny as they were making their frenzied way to the Hospital wing, on her way out. 

“‘Mione! Oh my gosh, thank Godric you are ok!” Ginny enveloped her in a hug. While Harry grabbed her hand in tight concern, “We thought you left early! When you still weren’t here after lunch we got frantic! What happened? We got an owl that you were in the Hospital Wing!”

Ron’s face was pinched and he looked rather sick himself, once Ginny unglued herself he pulled her in for a tight hug and she felt him visibly relax, “God ‘Mione, I was so fucking worried, I thought —”

Hermione pulled back and tutted lightly, “Now Ronald, have a little more faith in me than that, I am not that easy to take down!” Though in the pit of her stomach she felt really uneasy with the knowledge that she really was lying. Ron’s face betrayed the fact he didn’t believe her, but he grinned good-naturedly regardless.

“I’ll tell you about it in the common room, first, I need to eat something before one of you becomes my dinner,” Hermione said to Harry’s unanswered question. Her friends looked relieved and walked with her to the Great Hall.

While finding a place to sit, and getting relieved greetings from her other friends, Hermione asked Ginny, trying to sound disinterested, “Who sent the owl?” 

Ginny shrugged, “No initials were left, but the handwriting was pretty nice, here…” She pulled out the small leaf of parchment as the four of them sat down to eat.

Hermione recognized the handwriting as identical to Malfoy’s note, those large loopy Ps, Gs, and Fs were unmistakable. 

Hermione Granger is in the Hospital Wing in case you wish to find her —  

The note was indeed obtuse as to why or what happened but for some reason, she didn’t want to reveal that it was Malfoy who wrote that, rather she slipped the parchment into her robe pocket and ate in relative silence. 

Chapter Text

The first thing Hermione did after leaving the Hospital Wing with her friends was set up the ingredients for the revealer potion. She was still mildly surprised that Malfoy gave her the missing ingredient, meaning he knew what she was doing, and why she was doing it. She allowed herself to set up a small brewery near her bed, casting a few protective charms to disguise it and prevent anyone from messing about with it. She fell asleep after reviewing the instructions for the third time.

The morning dawned bright and warm, the sun prodded her awake and highlighted the task for the day. The ingredients were all laid out nicely just as she had left them, the newt tail set aside for closer examination. She got dressed mindlessly, paying no attention to the others in the girls dorms who were moving about lazily.

Hermione was not one who trusted easily or blindly, she considered that the newt tail could have been something else right off the bat. As such she ran a basic spell to verify that the tail indeed belonged to a newt before slicing it into the required slices. Why was Malfoy helping, it was not natural; it was suspicious, what did he have to gain? Carefully, as to not nick her finger with the scalpel, Hermione set about to cut the rest of the ingredients. Using a mortar and pestle to grind up the dragon scale to usable powder. 

She fell into the calming process of mixing together the potion, the complex magic-chemistry always having a profound effect on her mind. Mindlessly, she glanced at the book, it looked inconspicuous, small, black, leather-bound. There was nothing that shouted ‘cursed’ at her. 

“I’ll figure you out yet, Malfoy,” She hummed under her breath with a growing feeling of excitement. Leaving the starter potion to cool she headed towards breakfast and then counseling. The halls were crowded with sleepy teens meandering their way to the scent of food; truly blind as bats, bumbling their way through the crowds with not a sense of human proximity.

Hermione quickly grew irritated after being bumped into for the third time and decided to take a less crowded route to the Great Hall. Weaving around students she made her way to a dimly lit corridor and past by a few unused classrooms. The hum of conversation and talk became faint and distant and she found herself alone, and basking in the quiet. 

The corridor led outside where she could circle back to the Great Hall, undisturbed. Or at least mostly undisturbed, Hermione reconciled, she spotted a few other students walking to the lake and some others having the same idea as her, taking the longer but more relaxed route to breakfast. 

She approached a shaded section of the path, covered with the dappled shadows of old oaks, a breeze cooled her off and tossed her hair about her shoulders. 

It was lovely and refreshing; she shut her eyes simply enjoying the sensations. Apparently closing her eyes was a poor idea, she felt a body collide with her own rapidly and fell backwards onto the stone pavement. 

“OUGH!” Her huff of pain and surprise was unresponded to and she spotted the body of her assailant running off.

She got up feeling more confused than insulted, “ that was odd…”

There was a small piece of parchment tucked into her pocket that she did not place there. Suddenly, as though drenched in a bucket of ice-water, Hermione froze. Was it really just an odd occurrence of happenstance or was this intentional?

Nervously, she opened the folded piece of paper open. There was nothing written on it other than the single word “mudblood”. Hermione frowned and vanished the piece without much thought at the moment. She was given plenty of time to think on the matter as she walked into the Great Hall for a bite to eat. There were the usual students mulling about; some seated, others wandering along the table for the choicest pieces of tarts and jams. 

Hermione grabbed a warm toast and slathered blueberry jam on it mindlessly. Her eyes scanned around, feeling the day wear onwards. It was going to be a long one, that was for certain. 

She found a head of platinum blond hair and was quickly assaulted by a clear, grey gaze. Draco Malfoy was looking at her from his side of the Slytherin table, he was not even seated. He raised an eyebrow at her as if to ask ‘ yes?’

Hermione raised an eyebrow in response feeling indignant that she was the one questioned in this situation, after all there was no telling how long Malfoy was looking at her!

She rolled her eyes at his responding smirk and turned away wondering what counseling would bring today.

The room was set up as per the usual. The coupled chairs, however, were looking somewhat closer than normal and there was a soft but noticeable scent floating in the air. Hermione caught a whiff of freshly mown grass and for a horrifying minute she wondered if the ministry were administering the use of amortentia on couples.

Hermione pushed the disturbing thought away, as it wouldn’t do well to think of possible illegal methods of forcing people to love each other. Instead, she took a seat and pulled out her wand, deciding to practice nonverbal spells until Malfoy made his appearance. 

She was getting rather good at them now and could easily cast a disarming spell, levitation spell, and currently a mild stunning charm which she had yet to practice on a person.

“Granger, I hope you realize what class you’re in…” The lazy drawl of Malfoy’s voice teased. Hermione at once stopped her practising and gave him a cold glance. “I assure you I am very well aware of what class I’m in… You turned up late.”

“I’m never late Granger,” Malfoy smirked and sat down. “I’m actually on time, you just arrive a god-damn hour before class, so to you everyone is late.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes empathetically and said, “Early is on time; on time means you are late.”

“What happens when you are actually late, hmm?” Draco leaned in towards her intrusively. Hermione grinned and sarcasm was literally dripping from her as she answered. 

“Why then you are in trouble.”

Malfoy’s eyes scanned her face closely and he let a reluctant smile take her by surprise, “Oh well now I would certainly like to see what that entails…” 

Hermione gave a brief start and blushed angrily, but her tirade was cut off short as Professor McGonagall stepped into the room. The doors shut quietly as she walked up to the podium, her long robes were a shade of purple that day and seemed to give her a larger presence. Almost as soon as she stood there, the chalkboards began to write out instructions.

“Good morning class, I am glad to see you all here today. We have a special announcement in regards to your earlier projects. The single-room flats that you have designed are nearly ready for you to move in. I sincerely hope you thought them out thoroughly when you designed them.” Her pointed glare at certain students strongly hinted that she thought it unlikely. 

“For today, I will have you read your assignment up on the board and once you are finished come up to receive your tentative schedule plans for next week.” 

The sounds of mumbles and reading and business then took over. Hermione glanced up to the board to read what new task was in store.

For today, you and your partner will discuss some live-in rules for when you move into your new flat! A few suggestions have been listed for your convenience but do not forget to tailor them to your individual needs. Make sure to agree on all the rules before you submit the paper at the end of class. 

Hermione briefly scanned the rule prompts before being interrupted by Malfoy’s loud cough. “What?” She didn’t mean to sound irritable but… it did have a way of coming out around the git.

Malfoy gave her a mock offended look, “You really don’t think we need those prompts Granger, and I’d really prefer we get this rubbish over with quickly.” 

“Well since you think yourself above it all, why don’t you start us off, hmm?” Her counter was a bit childish but Malfoy had a way of pushing her buttons. The blonde only smirked and replied by taking out a quill (ridiculously fancy at that… silver tip and green feathers and jeez that was just a flex) to write out the rules on the given sheet of parchment. 

“Well, I believe some basic scheduling is in order… Shall we begin with morning routines? I happen to recall there being only one bathroom.” Draco looked bored but his eyes betrayed some hint of amusement. He was enjoying this, even if it were because of how terribly awkward it was. Hermione refused to feel perturbed by the topics and instead pelted right forward, “Well, granted that I wake up at half-past seven and I assume you are prone to waiting last minute, I suggest I take the bathrooms first in the morning.” 

If Draco felt offended, he did a fair job of hiding it, he simply wrote out a small table for their schedules and made a slot under “morning bathroom” with Hermione’s name. For the rest of class the two of them put down basic rules, some were a bit more loaded with unspoken jabs than others. Malfoy insisted on house elves, but Hermione would hear none of it. As such she took the cleaning of her share of the flat on herself. Malfoy was free to live in filth, or to clean it himself. For some reason, Malfoy assented without as much argument as she had feared he would put up. 

Malfoy then insisted on his nightly showers, as such she needed to take one either in the morning or in the afternoon. Hermione was never a morning-shower person, but she assented to it once she reviewed her lack of options. 

They found ample ways to study, she preferred silence in the flat and so they agreed to not bring anyone over unless the other party was absent. As such Draco could invite whomever he wanted, so long as Hermione was already planning to not be there. They could not kick each other out of the flat however, for any reason. No spells were to be used unless for homework purposes, and under no circumstances were either of them allowed to walk on the other’s side of the room. It was complex, and mostly unnecessary but it held a promise to work well for them. 

Soon enough, counseling came to a conclusion and Hermione found herself headed to therapy. She opened the door and entered the small room without much thought.

Mrs. Malfoy was seated as usual, quill in hand and notes laid out on a clipboard for the session. Her greeting was calm as per usual, “Good afternoon Miss Granger, how are you feeling today?”

Deciding to humor Mrs.Malfoy, Hermione went for the truth, “Nervous.”

“Would you care to explain what’s causing your grievance?” The blonde witch spoke with a slightly inquisitive tone which left plenty of room for responding in the negative. 

“Couples are to be moving together into the flats soon. I believe that by the end of this week they will have situated us in our new dorms.” Hermione kept her tone formal wondering how this new information would be taken.

It was most obviously, not new. “Oh of course, how could I forget, they announced it this morning did they not? What are you most nervous for?”

Hermione was really tempted to just spit out, ‘ oh just living with your son who consistently bullied and teased me for the past six years, but not much else’ , but she didn’t because that could be slightly offensive… slightly. 

“Just living with someone I don’t know and I suppose, don’t trust yet.”

Narcissa kept her face neutral and free of any emotion other than plain awareness and attention. When she responded her voice was equally as distant as it was concerned, “Of course, it makes sense to feel like that! It is completely natural and expected. But this is also a great chance to revisit some of the experiences you had and perhaps make some new ones better remembered.”

The rest of therapy passed in a bit of a blurr for Hermione and she was rather absent-minded until she reached the girl’s dorm and her waiting potion. 

She had been thinking on the potion for the better part of her therapy session and was eager to have it finished and test the strange book that Malfoy gave her. 

It took only two more hours for the rest of the potion to be brewed and cooled. Then she poured it in a flat container and placed the book in the metallic liquids. 

For a moment the book floated on the mercury-like substance. Then it sank and the potion hissed. It turned from aluminum silver to deep blue. The potion worked in such a way that dangerous curses would form colors like red and orange, while curses of questionable purpose would turn the potion yellow or green. Charms and spells that were harmless would turn the potion cooler colors like teal and blue. 

And so Hermione had the answer to her fears and for once she felt vaguely displeased with the results. If Malfoy would have given her a cursed book, dangerous perhaps or deadly, then it would have been easy to pin him to the title he wore on his arm. She could show this evidence and have an easy way out of the marriage. 

Now she was not only left with the inability to do that, she was also left with the unfortunate task of trying to figure out Malfoy’s actual intentions. 

She let out a huff of frustration and took out the book from the potion. She dried out the pages with a quick drying spell and then took out a quill. For a few moments her hand hovered over the paper and she didn’t write anything. Then she pursed her lips and set the quill to the parchment in a short sentence;

I’ll see you tomorrow then?

She waited, feeling kind of silly as there was no way Malfoy was on the book right this moment, and he wouldn’t read it right away. But she was compelled to stare at the ink for just a while more. She fell asleep rather suddenly and swiftly, her mind blanking out into a delicious, deep sleep.

Chapter Text

Hermione woke up with a steeled determination. Today was going to be moving day, today she would be moving into a flat with Draco and sharing quarters with him. Although the thought sent a sharp stab of anxiety through her, she also was well-aware of the need for cool-headed, calmness. As such, she took her time getting ready. 

She showered, shaved, brushed her hair and treated it with her special concoction of oils and perfumes. She even took the extra time to find a uniform skirt that she had not worn this week (skirts were air-washed, that was common knowledge obviously!). When she finally got out of the bathroom, most of the Gryffindor Girls were up and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. 

Ginny was chatting with an adorable pair of First-years until she saw Hermione get out of the bathroom. She left the pair with a small hug and well wishes and rushed up to catch up with Hermione. 

“Hey you! I was wondering where you were this morning.”

“I took my time to get ready —” Hermione shrugged. Ginny looked baffled and did not hesitate to say, “Why on earth would you be getting ready for today?”

Hermione hummed in an absent-minded way, leading the ginger down the stairs to the common room. “We are moving in with our partners today, Ginny. Don’t you remember?”

“What!” The combined voices of Ron, Ginny and surprisingly Harry rang rather loudly despite the din of the common room. At this point Hermione had to double check herself and glanced at the charmed calendar that hung by the fireplace. The date was glowing and clearly said “Move-in Day for Couples (year ⅞ only)”.

“Does anyone bother to look at the calendar?” She asked no one in particular while gesturing to the glowing parchment unnecessarily hammered to the brick. Ginny and Harry both rushed to the calendar with barely concealed excitement. 

“Oh my god I was so certain it was tomorrow!” Harry sounded as excited as when he was eleven and caught his first snitch. 

“How the hell! I swear the date was set for the seventeenth!” Ginny mirrored his excitement to the tee. The two jumped into an over-enthusiastic hug where Harry ended up spinning Ginny in the air. “Oh my god! Harry we’re going to live together!” She squealed, her hair flying all over the place and Harry laughing in delight, “Bloody hell, yes!” Was his empathetic answer.

Hermione watched this all and was unable and unwilling to stop the smile that came to her face. It fell as soon as she saw Ron though. He was sitting on the couch edge looking very vividly disturbed and pale. His hands were shaking and Dean was crouched in front of him talking to him quietly. 

Hermione walked over and sat next to Ron just as Dean said “-- no matter what, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks mate. I uh —  sorry for freaking out on you like that. Guess it was just, sudden.” Ron croaked. 

Dean nodded understandingly and walked out the common room with the other students. Hermione took Ron’s hand when she was fairly certain the other students wouldn’t see, “You ok, Ron?”

“No. I… How the fuck am I supposed to cope being with Parvati all the time… she’ll figure it out sooner or later!”

“It’s nothing to be shy about, Ron…” Hermione tried soothingly. It only seemed to aggravate her friend however.

“I KNOW. That’s why it is frustrating… I would normally just tell her and be over with it… but we are supposed to get married and then she’ll know I don’t want to —  do it with her —  and it’ll just be bloody horrible for both of us.” He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. 

Hermione couldn’t help the sympathetic huff of frustration that escaped her. “I still think it would be better if you told her. At least then it would help her understand your position… maybe she’ll be more —” Hermione fished in vain for a word to fill the sentence, “sympathetic?”

“God. It’s all bloody, fucking perfect isn’t it.” Ron picked his face up and grinned, or more like grimaced, looking at her.

“It really is.” Hermione’s response was more quiet, but her sentiment was conveyed all the same. Suddenly Ron went pale, “Oh god… Hermione you —  you’ll be moving in with him.” 

“Yeah.” Her response was… resigned. It was what it was, she just had to hope that it wasn’t going to be worse than she already was expecting.

“If he… tries ANYTHING . Tell us. Anything, Hermione. If he fucking touches you without your permission —”

“I’ll tell you. Don’t worry Ron. He’s been civil so far, I don’t know how he will be in private but… I’m hoping it won’t be too different.” Hermione was quiet then, her fingers picking at the fabric of her skirt, “If… he isn’t —  civil I mean —  I’ll tell you. But honestly Ron? What could we do?” 

“We’ll fucking report it!” His answer was immediate, and his indignation at her acceptance was almost palpable in the air. He gripped her hands then and looked as though he were about to say something.

“I —,” He paused, swallowed and took a breath, “I am so sorry ‘Mione. I never thought you would have been paired with him, truly! It didn’t even come to my mind. I swear if I’d known… I would have sent in that form for us —  I would have done anything. I —”

“I know Ron, it’s ok.” Hermione tried, but Ron was very much adamant about his point. His hands were shaking as they cupped hers in between his long freckled fingers. His eyes got bright and he was very much on the verge of crying, “I swear, tell me and I’ll drop everything. I don’t care if it’s now or in five months. Just tell me that you don’t feel comfortable or safe around him and I’ll bail you out. We’ll run until the law is over —  I’ll see about getting us somewhere safe… God I’m so sorry Hermione…”

“Ron stop it!” Hermione twisted her hands free of his shaking grasp and cupped his face fiercely in her hands, “Ronald, you have nothing to apologize for. Neither of us considered Malfoy as a factor in this. He has not hurt me as of yet, and I’m inclined to believe he won't hurt me. Yes he’ll tease, he’ll be a pain in my arse, and a general twat. But if he hurts me, you’ll know, and so will the courts. I won’t stand for it, trust me Ron.”

“I do.” Ron smiled, placing a hand over Hermione’s, “I always trust you ‘Mione.”

The first bell for breakfast rang and they got up. Ron pulled her into a strong hug and then they joined Ginny and Harry down stairs to the Great Hall. 

 Well, that was one way to start your day, Hermione reasoned. She rather felt herself drift during breakfast, not quite paying attention until the rush of movement around her alerted her to the conclusion of the meal. Hermione found herself following Harry and Ginny, for once not in a rush to their class. Goodness knows what mundane project they would have in store for her and Malfoy next.

Turned out, she was right when she thought “mundane”. It was quite literally a “draw together or do some art together” bonding project. 

She knew so the moment she entered the classroom, paints and quills and inks were set up in the center of the room. Dozens of canvassas, parchment, and books as well as mini drawing models were present. Draco was seated already, strangely looking uncomfortable.

“Malfoy.” Hermione slid into her chair and said his name as a way of greeting. She almost swore that the frown line between his brows disappeared when he saw her… But it might have been a simple trick of the light.

“Granger. Or should I get used to calling you Mrs. Malfoy?” There was the trade-mark smirk. Hermione felt rather relieved to see it, but she wasn’t about to investigate that emotion, “Ugh don’t you dare, reserve that for your mother alone. What are we expected to do then?”

“I expect they want us to… mingle... while wasting time with some arts and crafts. I honestly don’t see the appeal.” Despite this, he had a drawing pad and a few lead quills on his end of the table and had already been mindlessly doodling. 

“I see that…” Hermione raised a single eyebrow and Malfoy blushed. Actually blushed. His cheeks turned pink and he looked down at his drawing as though it betrayed him horribly. 

“Right well… you were taking your precious time getting here and I wasn’t about to start muttering spells like some mad witch we both know —” His sneer was directed at her, but for some reason, the barb didn’t bother Hermione, rather amused her actually. 

She rose and gathered a few brushes and paints, deciding to go with the easiest form of media. Can’t go very wrong with colors could you?

Hermione was consistently proving herself wrong today because… oh god how do people control the damn paint? For the past twenty minutes, she and Malfoy had been quietly absorbed in their art. Well, Malfoy was mostly quiet, she was muttering a couple curses under her breath as the paint dripped where it was not supposed to go . Originally planning for a nice, simple, beach scene, her paper looked a bit more like… yeah it didn’t look like anything. Even the colors had mixed in, the sandy brown had dried much darker than she thought it would, and the ocean looked not much better than something she did in primary school. 

Shockingly, Malfoy kept his mouth shut, perhaps he was actually being courteous and ignoring the horror that passed for art on Hermione’s paper. Or, more likely, he was actually quite focused on his own work. 

His sketch was … rather surprising. It consisted of a couple separate subjects; one looking like a hand, another like a foot… some accurate representations of human necks stretched in various positions. There were some vague lines and curves suggesting motion or flow, with a few frugal shapes hinting at a human form. Then there was an eye, it was quite detailed, the lashes, iris, pupil all had rather visible reflections and there was ample shading in the right areas. It looked quite good. 

Hermione didn’t think and just said exactly what she thought, “That’s really good.”

For a moment Malfoy looked at her with absolute shock, there was nothing but pure surprise in his eyes, but then his cool mask of ‘calmly fucking through life’ came back on and he opened his mouth, “I didn’t realize you were capable of giving compliments Granger, is this a new development?”

“Git, I was just being nice.” Hermione said. Then crumpled her failed artwork and grabbed a new piece of paper. A simple flower would be easy enough right? 

...

“You’ll need a reference, if you want to paint something half-way decent.” Malfoy sniggered, after five minutes of her frowning at her blobby, pink mess.

“I know what a bloody flower looks like!” Hermione said hotly. Surprisingly, Malfoy just rolled his eyes, “Obviously. But you have just a vague idea of what you are trying to represent. You have probably a dozen different types of flowers you are picturing in your head… and none of them are being replicated accurately due to that mess.” Swiftly, he whipped out his wand, took one of the broken lead quills and transfigured it into a rather pretty, pink carnation. 

Malfoy set it in front of her and adjusted it so that the petals caught the light from the open windows in the classroom. 

“Budge over…” Malfoy grunted irritably and slid next to her with a quill and dark red ink. He quite intentionally nudged her aside with his arm, freeing up some room for him to work.

Hermione’s heart sent a sudden, strong throb through her body. Her lungs took a hit and she was breathless for seconds. Her mind felt blank and she could only focus on how close Malfoy was. She could see every strand of his hair… she could see how his grey eyes looked in the sunlight… oh god she could see how pink his lips were… and the quick draw of his teeth as he pulled his lower lip in frustration. The curve of his brow as he focused on a petal outline, his hands steady and pale. 

“There… I gave you a basic outline, stay within the boundaries and even you can’t mess it up too bad.” Malfoy said, getting up and moving aside. 

“Th - Thank you.” Hermione coughed. Oh god she was really digging herself a grave here. She almost winced just in the expectation for the scathing comment. It never came… Malfoy looked a little confused, his mouth making this strange shape in between a frown and a smile, as though he were trying to not laugh or (god forbid) giggle. 

The flower didn’t turn out half bad, and class ended quickly after that. Malfoy left first, without so much as a backward glance as he burned his artwork and threw the ashes into the nearest potted plant. He left the pink carnation.

Hermione pocketed it when she was certain no one was looking, it was a pretty flower after all… couldn’t let that go to waste. 

By the time that evening came around, and therapy was over she had begun to feel the nerves flutter in her stomach. She was officially moving in with Malfoy now, for better or worse she couldn’t say yet. 

The seventh years followed the maps given to them after dinner and found their way outside of the castle and to what appeared as multiple small bunkers in what used to be Hagrid’s pumpkin field. 

The sky was already getting dark so Hermione didn’t waste time watching everyone else get into their cot, she found the shed-sized hut with the Malfoy surname and taking a single breath… walked in. 

It was… overwhelmingly similar to what she and Malfoy had designed. Down to the little gold path set between the vibrant two carpets. Her trunk was already on her side of the bed, and she felt a flutter of excitement. It was almost… almost… like moving into her first home!

She sat on her bed and continued to take in the strangeness of the room. It was much larger than she had originally thought… and that was of course, beside the expansion spell that maintained the outside so small while housing a vast interior.

The door opened again and Draco walked in, “Well… this is cozy.” He said, his eyebrows raising slowly. He took in the surroundings quickly and almost left at once to the bathroom. 

Hermione was not so rash as to change while he was in the bathroom… at least until she heard the shower turn on. Well, that gave her plenty of time then.

She undressed from her uniform and slipped on her long, purple nightwear. She normally slept in less, but she didn’t quite feel comfortable with that level of… openness. 

Malfoy apparently shared the sentiment, he exited the bathroom fully clothed in a rather silky, bright silver nightwear. Well, two could play at the house game. 

Hermione took out her wand and muttered a quiet, “Colour Auris” on her jammies. They turned a bold gold at once, and though she couldn’t mimic the silky material that Malfoy wore, she thought it was a definite improvement. 

The next two hours were spent with both of them reading in their own beds, some of it was class material, but most of it was from a borrowed book from the library. Hermione was reading book one of the Lord of The Rings (wizarding version with historical accuracy). But she was getting sleepy rather quickly. 

Finally, Draco sighed and got up. He placed his book on his desk and then took out his wand. 

“Ganger?” He sounded a little tentative, but that was a far stretch considering his normal tone. Nonetheless, Hermione placed her book aside and sat up on her bed, “Yeah?”

“I reckoned you would like to confiscate my wand overnight… trust issues and all.” 

To say that Hermione was shocked was an understatement, she had briefly considered setting a couple of spells around her bed to protect herself in case he got any ideas… but here he was actually stretching out his arm. Wand in hand. Offering her complete power. 

“Obviously you will return it in the morning, first thing.” Malfoy amended firmly, his eyes narrowing as she got up.

“Of course.” Hermione said, somewhat suspicious… she lifted the wand from Malfoy’s palm, her fingers touched his skin. 

Why on EARTH was she so hyper-fixated on every bloody detail with Malfoy? Her fingers grazed his fucking palm… ok big deal… 

His hand dropped, he took a breath, “Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight.”

They had already shut off the lights when Hermione decided to be brave and reach out her olive branch, “Thank you… um… for trusting me with that.”

Malfoy huffed something of a self-deprecating laugh, “I rather doubted you would have slept without putting up some cacophony of spells and I’d be more than glad to not get hexed on my way to the loo in the middle of the night. You at ease just makes life easier, don’t get your hopes up.”

“Sure.” Hermione scoffed… she paused, “Why would my hopes go up exactly?”

Silence.

Malfoy coughed quietly, “I don’t know… just… whatever.” That was the last thing she heard before delving into a long-needed rest.

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEE please leave comments and kudos to feed ma soul!

Chapter Text

It wasn’t completely unexpected, is what Hermione reasoned afterwards. She had awakened from the sound of a soft clatter with a jump. Suddenly her blood was pumping rapidly and all she could hear was the ringing alarm of “DANGER. DANGER. DANGER.” It took her moments to reach for her wand and whip herself from bed. 

Then her eyes opened. 

Malfoy was holding his toothbrush in his mouth, looking very startled and a fair bit concerned (not a look she thought she would ever see directed at her). He was standing partially in the doorway between his bed and the bathroom, a white towel slung over his shoulder and his wand in hand. For one terrifying second, Hermione was certain he was going to send a cruciatus curse her way. Her jaw locked and her muscles tensed sharply. Every fiber of her being was prepared for the pain. Holding. Holding and waiting for it.  

It never came. Rather, Malfoy set his wand down gently on his bedside table, holding both of his hands up in a mock surrender (toothbrush still stuck in his mouth), and moved back into the bathroom.

Feeling a mixture of unchecked anxiety and adrenaline, Hermione sat up and took a long breath.

In for 1… 2… 3…

And hold.

Now out for 1… 2… 3…

It must have been a wandless summoning charm that woke her… the faint click of the wand being summoned from her bedside having been too close for comfort. Groaning in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, Hermione dragged a hand over her face and sighed. Her PTSD from last year was getting worse by the day. Almost as if her body couldn’t understand that it’s failure to detect danger was representative of no danger, and instead it was a sign of her not trying hard enough to find the danger.

Figuring that now that she was awake she might as well get up, Hermione opened her trunk and searched for suitable clothes. It was Saturday so she could forgo the need of a uniform in place of some jeans and a sweater. She picked them out and hid the undergarments in the folds of sweater and pants. She had no clue as to why she felt ashamed of the chance that Malfoy might see her undergarments (despite them not even being on her), but she didn’t question it.

Malfoy got out of the loo looking fixed and perfect as ever. His hair was fixed in a casual and charming mess, he was dressed in smart black trousers and a casual white button-up. He threw his towel on his bed and rolled his sleeves up to mid-elbow. 

The Dark Mark on his forearm was nowhere to be seen.

Hermione must have let out a small gasp because Malfoy whipped around to look at her in surprise. His eyes followed hers for a second before finding the reason for her shock. His cheeks flushed but his eyebrows rose and he let out a huff, “Really Granger… you think I enjoy displaying it wherever I go? It’s just a glamor spell.”  Pointing his wand at his forearm Malfoy muttered, “signum revelare.” Instantly, the mark appeared, as though a wipe had taken off the paint covering it.

Hermione breathed out in relief. “I didn’t realize it could be glamored.” She said truthfully. Malfoy shrugged, muttering, “Signum recondunt,” swiftly concealing the mark again.

“It took me a while to find one that worked. It doesn’t work with the usual glamor spells.” He admitted. 

Hermione nodded her head and instantly felt awkward, “I haven’t even thought about hiding mine…” She didn’t mean to say her thoughts out loud… but then again she hadn’t had her morning tea and her brain seemed to be working at half-capacity. She mindlessly traced the marks on her forearm, feeling the ridges of the white scar tissue and wondered if the knife Bellatrix had used was cursed, and if she would need a specific glamour charm for her scars too.

Malfoy coughed and when Hermione glanced up at him, he was pale, calmly, and was pointedly avoiding eye-contact. “Right. I’ll see you around then Granger.” He nodded curtly and without a second glance he followed the silver and gold pathway right out the door.

The rest of the morning passed on as any normal Saturday, Hermione preparing herself as the next week real classes would begin. She didn’t run into Ron or Harry and assumed that the two were either hanging out in the Common Room or in their individual flats. Hermione stopped once at the library to grab a few new materials for light reading, figuring that she couldn’t just read fiction constantly, and had in mind to find a few on translating ancient ruins. 

She ended up getting three fiction books nonetheless, and couldn’t be arsed to feel guilty about it. She made it back to the Malfoy flat feeling a little nervous, she hadn’t seen Malfoy all day and it was well past noon. At just around a quarter to three she set the kettle to boil, it was an act that could easily be bypassed using a simple heating charm, but she found the process enjoyable and she wasn’t in a rush. Setting up her cup of tea she sat herself on her desk and opened one of her new fiction books. 

Rapidly, and quite literally as she had opened the cover, the door to the flat swung open and Malfoy walked in. He was dressed in his quidditch gear and was clearly back from an excessive practice session. His blonde hair was plastered flat from sweat and his shirt was untucked. He tossed his nimbus onto his bed and retreated to the adjoining loo without so much as a glance at Hermione. 

She didn’t care. So long as he was being mindful of her space. 

Then the shower turned on. All of a sudden, Hermione felt uncomfortable. For some reason. Her mind wouldn’t allow her thoughts to focus on her book. They strayed and locked onto the disturbing knowledge that… Malfoy would have to be... he most surely was... naked.

Instantly, she wanted to hit herself on the head with her Hogwarts A History. Of course he was naked! She doubted very much that anyone showered with their clothes on! But try as she might, she couldn’t drag her stubborn focus from that image. The thought of Malfoy… completely bare… it seemed so … illicit. Provocative even. Her eyes, despite being solely focused on the words on the page in front of her, were being drawn to the elusive figure in her mind. Truthfully she tried to rein herself in; tried to focus her mental gaze on something, anything else. But it was near impossible.

 She had never seen what a naked man would look like; her curiosity and pure animal instinct were stronger than her gravitation towards modesty. Her internal gaze slowly followed the build of his shoulders to the curve of his lower spine and then was twisting to search the front. But try as she might, her imagination could not create the fantasy of what it should look like. All she could see was a rough sketch as she had seen in her books depicting anatomy. She read what a penis was supposed to look like and had seen thousands of drawn representations… but it didn’t help. She couldn’t see.

Grumbling to herself and feeling absolutely ridiculous and equitably embarrassed, Hermione grabbed a jacket and headed out of the flat. She desperately needed some air and distance from her uncontrollable and quite out-of-line thoughts. 

Wandering around Hagrid’s pumpkin patch was decidedly her best decision today. The air was crisp, the sun was high, and the smells of the Forbidden Forest drifted all around her. Her hands were steady and she felt not a trace of the buzzing anxiety that plagued her day to day life. 

Despite this, she couldn’t help but keep her guard up. She hadn’t given much thought to the strange things that had happened in Hogsmeade and around Hogwarts due to the quiet lull these past days. But that didn’t mean that nothing was going on. She definitely would need to talk with Harry about the strange gathering of students. However, she didn’t want to step into his lovely dreamscape with Ginny. Goodness knows Harry had suffered enough the past seven years fighting off Voldemort and winning the Wizarding War, the boy deserved a bit of a rest from saving the damn school each year!

Granted… He did have a rather bad habit of getting mixed up into those events whether or not he chose to. Hermione could hold off on it for a bit more. Perhaps it was an isolated event.

She didn’t really think so… but to give her thoughts a voice was to give them power, and she didn’t have half the mind to do that. Her walk was so far peaceful, and she wouldn’t want to change that anytime soon. 

Well… It seemed like she had already jinxed herself because coming around a hill now she swore she could see five figures on the lips of the Forbidden Forest. 

They were cloaked and in shadow, and too far away for Hermione to make out anything other than their vague shapes. At once she was caught in the web of decisions to make. She could ignore this, dismiss it for some students having stupid fun in the woods. But she wasn’t a Gryffindor for no reason and her curiosity wouldn’t be satisfied with hazard guessing. 

Swiftly as she could she made her way towards the shadowed figures, darting from behind one enormous pumpkin to a tree, to another pumpkin and then hid by Hagrid’s old hut. She was close enough to see that they were pacing and making gestures with their hands suggesting impatience or something similar but nowhere close enough to hear them. 

Hermione took out her wand and held it at the ready. She would rather be safe… then suffer some heinous accident on account of not being prepared. 

Slowly, edging around the group to the left, she entered the forest and started making her way closer to where she saw the figures. Eventually, she started to pick up bits of conversation.

“Could see us here! It’s not safe to just wait!”

“What would you expect —”

“He’s been this late before — ”

“Quit stepping on me!”

“This is ridiculous —”

Hermione held her breath and listened, her view was obstructed by the thick undergrowth of bushes and branches and she couldn’t see anything but some vague shadows and outlines but if she just edged a little closer… 

The slicing sound of wind being cut by a broom shattered the weak conversation between the figures. Suddenly, a new figure was present among them, identifiable by the brief and telling shock of white-blonde hair.

Hermione pursed her lips and shut back the indignant huff that was about to come out her mouth. Of course Malfoy would be in some ridiculous secret meeting… He was a bloody Slytherin! Hermione briefly thought about confronting them, but she reasoned that listening to what they were about to discuss was more important.

So she squatted down, still as a rock, and listened.

“Took you long enough!”

“What the heck Malfoy! You shouldn’t have flown here!” 

Malfoy sighed, loudly and with great suffering, “Shut it Blaise I don’t want to hear any of your fucking whining.” 

“You’ll hear what you need to hear! Did you just want everyone finding out where we are at? You could have led one of those bloody teachers here! For fuck’s sake mate, are you sure you weren’t followed?” The voice that now Hermione could identify as Blaise sounded both frustrated and … terrified. 

A girl’s voice then spoke out, “Blaise, we’ve gone over this already. We’re not doing anything wrong! If someone “finds” us, then we just tell them the truth.”

“Your bloody mental woman,” Blaise muttered. “What next? Gonna finally admit that you’ve been hiding the mark too? Or that you’re fucking everyone but your assigned husband?” A few laughs from the quiet voices were heard. 

“Shut it Blaise!” Pansy’s voice was sharp and disgusted, “At least I’m not trying to get up some psycho-witch’s pants constantly!”

“Fuck off! What was the bloody point of putting us up in the same flat if not to make us get it on?” Blaise chuckled then, “Ya think psycho is contagious?”

“Ugh, we’ll be able to see in a couple days, won’t we?” Pansy sneered. “Justine certainly hasn’t wasted any time trying to get into my pants. Fucking perverted mudblood. Keeps telling me I ‘deserve’ to get fucked like the slut I am. He is seriously a knob-headed arse!” 

“I don’t know Pansy, sounds to me like you are getting on a first-name basis with him.” Another girl’s voice giggled, the voice strangely familiar.

“I wouldn’t mate with that mudblood even at knifepoint, Tracy. I just hate his last name even more than his first.” Pansy hissed. 

“At least your’s talks about sex! Creevey won’t even look at me without blushing like some daft scrubber who doesn’t know the end of his own dick.”

“He’s supposed to be a Gryffindor, no?” Blaise said. “Tell him to prove he’s brave, and jump off the end of their dumb tower. Don’t tell him which end, brave doesn’t mean smart.” There was a short burst of laughter and then Blaise spoke again, “So… How is it with the minger? Daft cow learned what your bell-end looks like yet?”

“Don’t call her that.” Malfoy grumbled. Blaise laughed and Pansy seemed to be choking on some indignant thoughts that she hadn’t the ability to press out. 

“Sure, we’ll just refer to her as the mudblood queen then.” Tracy snorted, “Because you clearly preferred that term last time.” 

“I’m just trying to be… better.”

“They can’t fucking change us in a month! Fucking slags should come to mine some evening. Mcgona-bitch will lose some fivers with my parents.” 

“At least your’s still make fucking sense! I swear my mum’s gone off the deep —  acting like she failed in raising me or some shit.” Pansy’s voice got quieter towards the end and Hermione decided she had heard enough. 

Coming back to her flat wasn’t an option so she ran over to the flat with “Potter” on the nameplate and knocked urgently. Enough was enough. 

The door opened at once and suddenly Hermione was overwhelmed with the sheer amount of people in the flat. Ginny was there, Harry was there, Ron was there, not to mention Padme, Seamus, Dean and Luna. For a moment, Hermione felt both stunned, and slightly hurt. There seemed to be quite the gathering without her here. 

“‘Mione!” Ron jumped off the couch where he and Dean were chatting and bolted through to pull her into a hug. “Where were you! I came by your flat and went to the library and you weren’t there!”

Feeling a little abashed at her previous thoughts Hermione hugged him back tightly, “Sorry Ron, I went on a walk down Hagrid’s fields and lost track of time.” 

“S’ok, just… warn a bloke next time. I had a fucking aneurysm. I thought that Ferret might have got you or something.” 

For a second Hermione debated on bringing up the topic of what she had heard in the woods. But the nasty words and horrible things said would surely put a damper on everyone here. She couldn’t do that. Not here and not now when everyone was so clearly happy and relaxed.”

“Hermione!” Ginny pushed her brother off and stole Hermione’s breath with a death-squeezing hug of the Weasley variety. “Hungry much? I made some brunch with Harry and we thought to have everyone over for a bit.” Without waiting for an answer, Ginny dragged the brunette to the living room where she was forcibly sat down and handed a full plate of delicious-smelling food. 

“Harry cooks better than me and that is saying something. Mum would be furious!” Ginny whispered conspicuously, her bright eyes alight with mirth.  Hermione couldn’t find something to say in response so she simply took a bite of whatever food was in front of her hoping she wouldn’t get sick. 

The outing hadn’t gone to plan and she now felt worse off than before. Her previous thoughts about Malfoy seemed not just repulsive and wrong, but they felt like the bitter taste of betrayal. She was… thinking about Malfoy, a Death Eater, pure-blood, biggoted jerk, as though he were just a boy. Hermione was well and thoroughly disgusted with herself. 

Being with her friends was both a relief and a torture. Each time Dean cracked a joke, and Ron grinned, or Harry traded small kisses with Ginny she smiled. And then she felt an ill sensation creep up her stomach and lodge itself in her throat. Why was she smiling? There wasn’t a reason for her to smile, she had just been proven that the Slytherins were as bad as before. 

She eventually escaped the flat with minimal complaints from her friends, using the excuse of being tired and that there was class tomorrow to save her from spending any more hours stuffed up in that sitting room. 

It was dark by the time that she walked into her own flat. The stars were twinkling bright and unhindered by the light pollution of the muggle world. Hermione hated them. She felt angry at everything for some reason. Her blood was hot and she just wanted to… claw or punch something… or someone.

She opened the door with less care than was polite, and slammed it shut without so much as a care. Malfoy was sitting in his bed with a book open on his lap, and jumped at her loud entrance.

“What the fuck Granger?” Was his eloquent response. Hermione couldn’t give a fig about it and gathered her night things before closing herself into the bathroom.

The sound of the large bath filling up was calming and she double checked her lock spells on the door, not trusting Malfoy to respect her privacy. Pink and blue bubbles frothed on the surface of the steaming water and by the time that Hermione had undressed and sank into the comforting heat she had forgotten most of her irritation.

Sure it wasn’t excusable, the words and conversations she heard were disgusting and it sounded as though the Slytherins had taken this whole marriage law as a free ticket to rape whomever they wanted. But at the same time, Slytherins weren’t dumb, they were on a tight leash as ex-Death Eaters and it wouldn’t take much for them to be convicted. Most of the school was on high-alert for any behavior that could be used as reason to expel those students. And Luna hadn’t complained about Blaise’s behavior at all during their shared time at Harry’s and Ginny’s flat.

Perhaps it was just that. Just mean words and hurtful thoughts. Frustration pent up and expressed in derogatory manners. It wasn’t comforting, but at least it wasn’t a reason for violence.

Hermione hadn’t realized how long she spent in the bathroom until a knock sounded from the other side.

“What?” Her voice was relaxed and much calmer than before, she realized. Which probably explained the prolonged pause before the voice answered from the other side, “Just checking if you died in there. Get out would you?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

The tub emptied and she was dry and dressed and after brushing her teeth when she finally allowed her locking spells to break and for the door to unlock.

Malfoy was sitting at his desk, his fingers drumming rapidly on the wood and his leg jumping a mile a minute. Seeing her out, he jumped up and muttered, “Christ you take forever.”

Hermione did not deem the sentence in need of a response so she simply shrugged into her sleep robe and crawled into bed. She wanted to read for a bit, but the bath had left her so deliciously warm and comfortable that she decided against it and sank into what would hopefully be a deep sleep.

Chapter Text

This work is going to be officially orphaned and will no longer be affiliated with my profile. Someone has taken it upon themselves to make a fic inspired by this one and publish it on their own. It will be marked as “inspired by” this fic and should be easily found.

Thank you to everyone who read this work and supported me throughout this journey.