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Chapter Text

Malfoy Manor.

The luxurious mansion was a shell of what once held prestigious balls and galas.

Twisted and cursed from the previous inhabitants after the war, the stench of death stained the walls and marble floors.

However, the more frightful of whispers lay with the sole heir: Draco Malfoy.

A monster.

A recluse.

A Death Eater.

Since the mysterious and sudden deaths of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, the young Malfoy was never seen again in the public eye.

Curious children who dared to approach the iron gates swore they saw a silver eye and a drawn wand appear behind the curtains.

Some would argue a beast now lived in the Manor... others proclaimed he permanently melded his Death Eater's mask to his face in servitude to his defeated Master...

Years have passed and Draco Malfoy would still appear frequently in the latest issue of the Daily Prophet.

And this is how Hermione Granger spent the remainder of her breakfast on a Thursday morning, perusing the rubbish journalism of Rita Skeeter with his name appearing yet again on page 4.

She ran a finger over where the blotchy red carvings were glamoured on her forearm. The feeling of raised skin and tracing of the M never failed to make her shiver.

The early stumblings of her fiancé getting ready for work upstairs was also a reminder.

The locket/horcrux had left its mark on Ronald Weasley. There wasn't any other explanation she could think of on why Ron had such a violent temper. Why he was always so angry...

It was tragic how she as a cursebreaker couldn't undo the iron-grip dark magic seemed to have on her future husband.

Hermione blamed herself, of course. Brightest Witch of Their Age wasn't able to keep her fiancé happy nor find the right calculations to keep the anger away.

She loved him and no one else could ever love her like he does.

Ron told her this.

Daily.

Heavy footfalls coming down the stairs had Hermione sitting straighter in her chair and removing the stasis charm on his food and coffee.

Her face broke into a smile when his familiar face entered the kitchen and as his easy grin broke through and blue eyes lit with happiness, everything seemed perfect.

They were the perfect pair.

The Love Story between an Auror and Junior Cursebreaker.

Hogwarts' Sweethearts.

Just a few of the dramatic headlines often gracing the pages of Witch Weekly.

Of course as Ron's grin began to wane and the light in his eyes dimmed, she knew nothing was ever that simple.

"Thanks for the gifts," Hermione said, hugging Ginny tight, hoping the red-head would insist on having a proper bachelorette party.

"No problem," Ginny said with wink before making a face. "I forgot for a moment that you're marrying my brother when I bought you those outfits."

"A quick memory charm should do it," she smirked, internally panicking at being left home alone with an intoxicated Ron the night before their wedding.

"It's too bad Ron said no to the stag party," Ginny pouted, quickly grabbing a crawling James who was headed for the Floo. "We could have had a fun girl's night."

Ron did want a stag party, but realized he couldn't leave her alone or with Ginny. Hermione was meant to be his innocent bookworm housewife and not a slag in the pubs.

She agreed to his logic, of course, because the fight wasn't worth it.

"Hermione!"

She flinched internally at the strong smell of Firewhiskey but fixed her face into a smile before turning to her soon-to-be husband.

"We're getting m-married!" he hiccupped with a goofy grin, bringing her in for a hug.

Her nose wrinkled at the scent of the cologne he recently started wearing.

"We are," she agreed softly, staring up at his bright blue eyes.

He was in a good mood and she hated it.

Hated it because they reminded her why she was marrying him... why she wasn't using her Gryffindor bravery to stand up to him or tell Harry the truth about her accidental falls down the stairs or tripping over Crookshanks.

Ron appeared as her best friend and adoring fiancé; Hermione couldn't stand it.

His hand started to lower to her arse and she jumped, startled.

Ron's brows furrowed at her reaction.

"Oi, keep it in your pants for another minute!" said Ginny, hitching James higher on her hip with a grin.

"Go away and find your husband," Ron smirked, cupping Hermione's arse more fully.

Her cheeks burned in embarrassment at his crass behavior but Ginny only rolled her eyes.

"Alright, alright. See you tomorrow!"

Ron rudely closed the door in their faces and had her by the neck against the door.

"Why did you jump?" he asked, looking hurt.

His expression grossly contrasted the firm hold around her throat.

"I - I was just - Ginny was here... and -"

His hurt turned into a scowl.

"You don't like other people seeing you with me? Is that it?"

"No!" she choked out, eyes burning with unshed tears. "I -"

Her pleas were cut off with sloppy drunken kisses, and it took effort to not gag from the taste of his intrusive tongue entering her mouth.

"You're mine, Hermione Jean Weasley."

She used to love the possessive way he claimed her as his... now it only made her stomach churn with fear. His possessive nature was not only to their relationship, but to every other aspect of her life.

This had been nice at first. She didn't have to make decisions after the war because Ron stepped up. Ron made sure she was taken cared of, that Fred had a proper burial, that Harry wasn't an idiot and went back to Ginny...

But nearly a year after the war, his decisions effected her more so. He dictated what she wore, what she ate, who she could talk to... and his anger when she stood up to him was what made her believe the effects of the horcrux must still be buried dormant within. She wasn't giving up on him.

Hermione yelped when he bit her hard on her pulse point, and there was a burning sensation and wetness indicating he broke the skin.

Ron's eyes were hard staring into her's.

"I'm doing all the work," he murmured quietly. "Do you not love me?"

"Of course I do," she pleaded with wide eyes.

"Then why aren't you on your knees?"

Chapter Text

Excited whispers crept slowly into consciousness and Merlin did she wish for the black abyss to return.

"We're done, Ron," she said, her voice trembling, hands clenching the back of a kitchen chair. "We - I - the wedding is off."

The blue eyes she loved darkened while his cheeks and ears flushed a bright red unrelated to his consumption of firewhiskey.

"What?" he whispered, his voice like the calm before a storm.

Her wand was in the living room. He usually held onto it for safe keeping but with Ginny and Harry here earlier, that hadn't been necessary.

Throat dry and now breaking into a cold sweat, she bolted.

She never made it past the threshold.

Several minutes later and she was now bent forward over the kitchen table, vision blurry, with the sound of a zipper loud over her shallow breathing.

Her hands were tied, blood dripping down her face and onto the table, while her eyes focused on the only tangible object .

The front of the Daily Prophet.

Icy grey eyes staring into her's.

Hermione sat up suddenly in bed, a strangled cry emitting from her throat. 

Out.

She needed out.

It was as if the extravagant bedroom was now suffocating and much too small.

Pulling back the covers, Hermione quickly left her bed; the marble floor feeling cool against her feverish skin.

If she could find the drawing room, she could find her way out of the manor.

Hermione was never one to follow the rules anyway. 

She left the room.

Chapter Text

Hermione walked the halls of the manor in a dream-like state. She only knew to walk in the opposite direction of where Pip had guided her, but it was as if her mind knew exactly which corner to turn.

Her steps didn't falter until she reached a large black door. The door's paint was peeling and looked out of place in the pristine halls of the manor.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up when she reached for the silver handle.

Instinct told her there were remnants of dark magic behind this door. Her career as a cursebreaker told her this would take more than turning the handle to enter.

With this in mind, she touched the handle but did not turn it right away. Instead, she closed her eyes, focusing her magic into her hand.

Not bring able to rely on a wand the last three years meant she'd been practicing her wandless magic. Though, the type of magic she was attempting was more than healing a black eye.

Despite the adrenaline pumping through her veins and instinct telling her to go back to bed, Hermione couldn't help but smirk triumphantly in realizing the ward was incredibly simple.

Wasn't Malfoy third in their class?

The Gryffindor bravery (or stupidity some would argue), had her breaking the ward with her fingertips within minutes and finally turning the handle.

When she opened the door, several candles lit and what she saw had her questioning if she was in the right place; however, the large blood stain in the middle of the room and a broken chandelier told her she had indeed found the drawing room.

Hermione cautiously entered further into the room, observing the carnage.

Couch cushions were torn to shreds, the walls were scratched down to the drywall... they looked like claw marks.

Swallowing hard, she took another step towards the dried puddle of blood.

Her blood.

She could still hear the child-like laughter of Bellatrix Lestrange. The sheer pleasure the witch had in carving into flesh and -

"You shouldn't be here."

Hermione froze, her heart tripling in pace.

The voice was an eerily familiar drawl, but the sophistication it once held was missing... replaced with an undertone of a growl.

Her eyes zeroed in on movement from the corner of the room and watched with wide eyes as a wizard she hadn't seen since the Battle of Hogwarts stepped further into the light.

His white-blonde hair was in complete disarray and reached his shoulders; his expensive robes were in tatters; and three large scars marred his face from his scalp, over his left eye, and down to his jaw.

Despite his haggard appearence, the curl of his lip and flash of disdain in his silvery eyes were all too familiar.

Draco Malfoy looked dangerous.

Unhinged.

His nostrils flared before he bared his teeth at her in some type of twisted grin.

"Are you scared, Granger?"

She hadn't moved, still frozen where she stood. Her mouth opened, but no words escaped.

Yes.

"Is it the room," he mused darkly, circling her as a predator would do with their prey. "Or is it my pretty scars?"

She watched as his fingers lightly traced over the pink stripes with an unreadable expression, though she swore his eyes looked pained.

"You have your own scars... don't you, Granger?"

Hermione gripped her forearm, nails digging into her skin. Yes.

Malfoy smirked, before flashing his own forearm bearing the Dark Mark.

Her stomach churned and she took a step back. She hadn't seen the mark since the trials.

"Draco Malfoy, the Death Eater," he whispered, but she wasn't certain if he was saying this to himself or her.

A sudden tremor shook through his body and he turned away from her.

"Leave, Granger... and don't come back," he said quietly.

She was still frozen, her emotions and thoughts scrambled.

There were so many questions she didn't even know where to start, but her voice was not cooperating.

"GET OUT!" he suddenly yelled, making her jump.

Noticing the double doors that lead to out, she ran.

She didn't look back.

Chapter Text

Hermione had to hold back her amusement, her lips pressed tightly together, when Tutu immediately began berating Malfoy for getting himself hurt as they reentered the front doors of the manor.

The white werewolf obviously couldn't do anything but grunt as he sauntered past the house elf.

Her amusement vanished however when Tutu's stern motherly gaze turned to her, hands on her hips. 

"Tutu is very upset with you, Miss Granger! Miss Granger should have stayed in bed!"

Hermione heard a snort and she narrowed her eyes at the werewolf's departing back before turning to Tutu apologetically.

"I'm sorry for worrying you," she said, biting her bottom lip nervously. "I had a nightmare and wasn't thinking."

Tutu huffed but her large eyes softened. "There's many dangers on the outskirts of the manor. Tutu was very worried."

"It won't happen again," she promised, glancing up when Malfoy disappeared from view. "He brews Wolfsbane, I take it?"

Oddly, Tutu hesitated.

"Tutu is going to see where young Master has gone. Tutu is ordering Miss Granger straight to bed."

The house elf snapped her fingers and suddenly Hermione was apparated back into the bedroom she'd been staying in.

Biting the inside of her cheek, trying not to panic, she went to the adjoined loo and splashed water on her face.

The events of nearly an hour ago were beginning to set in and the adrenaline was wearing off.

Bloody hell she was a mess.

Hermione's chestnut-brown hair had broken free from its French braid and was sticking up in every direction, the wavy curls now frizzy.

Her olive skin looked unhealthy pale, and she could barely see her brown irises around their dilated pupils.

"Don't panic," she murmured to her reflection, knowing she appeared completely barmy. "Everything is fine."

That's what she's told herself the last five years... everything is fine.

The first time Ron hit her and he begged for forgiveness... everything is fine.

Harry's frown at St. Mungos when she explained how she tripped over Crooks and fell face first into a glass mirror... everything is fine.

Malfoy is a werewolf and saved her from another werewolf... everything is fine.

Swallowing harshly, she finally looked away and crawled into bed. The blankets were deliciously warm and her body desperately wanted to sleep, but her mind was wide awake.

Malfoy is a werewolf.

She remembers with disdain how Remus Lupin was treated by Wizarding society.

Dolores Umbridge, for example, drafting the anti-werewolf legislation- making it nearly impossible for registered werewolves to find a employment; how Professor Lupin resigned when Professor Snape outed him as a werewolf, knowing parents would not approve of their children being taught by the likes of him.

She didn't know of any other werewolves aside from Fenrir Greyback, who was currently in Azkaban.

Hermione shivered at the memory of Greyback wanting his turn with her after Bellatrix was done.

What had happened to Malfoy?

She wasn't aware she'd fallen asleep until her eyes opened hours later to daylight peeking through the curtains.

However she flinched and gripped the blankets closer to her in realizing she wasn't alone.

Malfoy looked terrible but his robes were no longer in tatters and hair was now combed as he sat facing her from the vanity near the bed.

There were purple shadows under his eyes and new tiny scratches to his face. His eyes were still a sharp silver though the hatred reflecting in them from the drawing room was noticeably absent.

For whatever reason, there were no issues with her voice when he was transformed into a werewolf, but being face-to-face with the wizard was different.

This was someone who bullied her all through school based on her parentage; someone who took the Dark Mark and has seen her at her weakest moments.

They stared at one another in silence for several seconds.

"You're an idiot," he finally drawled, crossing his leg so his ankle rested on his knee.

"Pardon?" she asked, taken aback.

He raised a brow. "I said what I said."

Hermione scowled, crossing her arms. "That's hardly fair since you told me to leave."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I was about to strip down and become a thing of nightmares. Apologies for not having more tact."

He had a point. And she'd been looking for the exit anyhow...

Hermione crossed her arms and swallowed her pride. "I'm sorry, you're right, and thank you for saving my life twice."

She saw the flash of surprise in his eyes at her admission before he looked down, suddenly seeming fascinated with his dragon hide boots.

Was he blushing?

"It's fine," he muttered, still not looking at her.

Pushing away the strangely enduring sight of Malfoy blushing, she hugged her knees to her chest. "How's your shoulder?"

"How's your arms?" he countered, looking anywhere but at her.

"Better," she said quietly, remembering the bandages from being splinched.

Matilda had cheerfully informed her of the more gruesome details of her injuries during breakfast the other day.

"Good," he said, his voice gruff, still refusing to make eye contact. "Tutu has some clothes for you to wear. Just let her know where you'd like to go and she can take you."

"Go?" she asked, her pulse quickening with sudden fear of returning to her old life.

Going back to Ron.

Pretending everything is fine.

She was so tired of pretending that her relationship reflected what was published in the tabloids.

She loved Ron... but not this current version who is always angry, who she is never good enough for, who uses her for his own pleasure...

He must have heard something in her voice because he finally looked at her, his expression perplexed.

"Yes," he said slowly, watching her curiously. "I imagine the Wizarding world is crumbling without you to save it."

She swallowed hard, her hands trembling to which she quickly hid then under the blankets.

"Could... could I stay?" she asked softly, looking down.

She didn't want to see his expression of disgust or rejection.

"I'm not... safe," he finally said after several tense seconds, his words sounding forced.

Safer than Ron.

"Safe enough," she said quietly.

An idea suddenly crossed her mind, and she looked up with more determination.

Malfoy looked wary at her dramatic shift in demeanor.

"What if I helped declutter the manor of its cursed objects in exchange for housing? I'm a cursebreaker for the Ministry with an impressive record, if you must know. I'll leave when done."

This would give her time to come up with a plan and figure out options.

Malfoy frowned, crossing his arms. "Why?"

"I'd rather not say," she said lightly, her expression carefully impassive. "It's been a while since I've taken a holiday."

Malfoy snorted in disbelief, shaking his head. "A holiday at the manor? With a former Death Eater turned beast?"

"Can I stay or not?" she demanded, ignoring his logic, mirroring his frown.

"Fine," he snapped, getting suddenly to his feet. "Just stay out of the west wing."

Before she could respond, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

Hermione exhaled shakily with relief, sinking back into the mattress.

She could stay.

She had time.

Hermione didn't see Malfoy again until later that evening when Pip escorted her to a dining room where dinner was to be served.

She had a feeling the house elves were forcing her and Malfoy to interact since they usually had no issue with bringing dinner to her room.

Malfoy's stiff posture and blatant annoyance at the dining table told her this was not the usual arrangements for meals.

Dinner was a delicious shepherds pie, but the awkward silence aside from the clinging metal of silverware was almost painful.

"Could you make a list of items and their location to work on for tomorrow?" she finally asked after quietly thanking the house elves for the meal.

He grunted in what she interpreted as a yes before taking a drink of red wine.

"And do you er - have a spare wand I could use?"

Malfoy raised a brow but thankfully didn't ask. "Yes."

"Er - great," she said, clearing her throat before getting to her feet. "I'm off to bed then. Good night."

He only grunted again, taking a deeper drink of his wine.

She walked quickly out of the dining room and back in the direction of her room, turning in for an unrestful night of sleep filled with snarling werewolves and serious silver eyes.

Chapter Text

She was offended and disappointed for being given such simplistic dark objects.

A necklace belonging to his great aunt with a geminos curse.

His mother's sunscreen with a pimple jinx (who does that?).

Dragon-hide trainers that causes the wearer to endlessly run or cursed ballet slippers so the wearer dances until their feet are down to the bone.

Elementary curses and jinxes... hardly anything interesting.

When finished with his list in under an hour, she sat in a reading nook under a window, staring at the borrowed wand.

Malfoy had dozens of wands locked away in a trunk. They were wands that'd been stolen by Snatchers during the war.

Only one wand stood out to her.

More flexible than her vine wood and a bit longer, however the wand melded well with her magic.

She wondered if the original owner was still alive.

Hermione gripped the wand tighter upon hearing footsteps, and glanced up to see Malfoy approaching her nook.

"Frog wanted me to inform you lunch is ready," he murmured with his hands behind his back.

She nodded and saw how his eyes ventured to her new wand.

"Found one suitable then?"

Her tongue seemed to be tied whenever he was being civil and she merely nodded.

"May I?"

He held his hand out to her.

Several seconds went by before she relinquished her new wand, biting her bottom lip anxiously.

He studied it and she watched him curiously.

"Rowan wood," he said quietly. "They say no dark witch or wizard has ever matched with one."

"Really?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

His silver eyes flashed to her's immediately at her response and her face grew warm.

He looked back at her wand. "They're... protective. Especially known for their strength in defense."

"Do you have an interest in wand lore?" she asked as he carefully handed the wand back to her.

Malfoy's jaw clenched. "Ollivander was a prisoner here, if you recall."

She swallowed hard. Of course she did. "And you... talked to him?"

He spun a silver ring on his finger, no longer looking at her. "On occasion."

Clearing his throat, he abruptly turned and briskly made his way in the direction of the dining room.

Lunch was just as quiet of an affair as their last two meals together.

They sat on opposite ends of the dining table that could easily fit twelve guests, enjoying their butternut squash soup and bread.

After politely dabbing her mouth with a napkin, she cleared her throat. "Did you put those jinxes on the objects from your list today?"

Even from across the table, she could see the twitch of his lips and eyes shining with amusement.

"And if I did?" he drawled, raising a brow.

Hermione pursed her lips, taking a drink of water. "Then I'd say your imagination was rather lacking."

Malfoy cracked a smile and all she could do was stare. Even with his scars, he was a handsome wizard. Always has been if she was honest with herself but appearances were deceiving.

"Well, did I pass your little test?" she continued, ignoring the tightness in her chest and fluttering in her belly.

His head tilted, fingers drumming on top of the table as he watched her. "I supposed."

"Right," she said, pushing her chair back and getting to her feet. "I'll see to your list in the morning then."

He nodded, still watching her with an unreadable expression, and she quickly left the room.

She groaned internally. They just had lunch... she'd still need to see him for dinner.

Tutu would've immediately known she was lying, but Pip in his bowtruckle footie pajamas only nodded when she told him she wasn't feeling well later that evening.

What she hadn't accounted for was Malfoy barging into her room.

Strangely, he seemed angry though she hadn't gone into the west wing so why -

"You weren't at dinner," he growled, arms crossed in the doorway.

Hermione only blinked.

"Pip said you weren't feeling well, but you seem to be in adequate health," he continued, still looking agitated.

"I - I just... er -"

He scowled, his silver eyes burning with an emotion she couldn't place. "You didn't want to have dinner with me."

"Malfoy -"

Before she could say anything, he left, slamming the door behind him and causing her to flinch.

She was utterly confused with his behavior.

Logically, she'd thought they would both find relief in having dinner to themselves but she'd grossly miscalculated.

Why would he care? They sat in silence and she was always the first to break it!

You didn't want to have dinner with me. Did Malfoy think she had a prejudice against werewolves?

Hermione groaned, falling back into her pillows.

She had no problem with werewolves and his company was preferable over her fiancé... ex-fiancé... though Ron clearly disagreed with calling off the wedding.

Feeling nauseous now, she burrowed herself under the blankets as if they could protect her. It was easier to pretend at the manor that her old life wasn't reality, that she could hide forever from those baby blue eyes.

Her thoughts wandered to Harry and Ginny. What did they think happened to her? Were they looking for her? Or had Ron spun a lie about her running off with a lover?

He was the one having an affair with Lavendar Brown of all people... but Hermione thought herself pathetic that that was the reason she told him the wedding was off.

Hermione buried her face into a pillow, her eyes burning with tears threatening to fall.

She really was pathetic.

A coward.

The years of excuses she had made for him... the horcrux, Fred's death, stress of being an Auror... but then those precious moments when he held her close at some silly gala they were forced to attend and only had eyes for her... everything was fine.

Eyeing the phial of dreamless sleep on the nightstand, she finally gave in.

She just needed a damn break.

The next morning at breakfast, Malfoy didn't show. There was only a list with his too perfect of handwriting detailing the location of a wardrobe filled with cursed valuables.

He nor she were obligated to break bread together. Malfoy was allowing her to stay at the manor and that was that. And yet... she could understand why he'd been upset (though his reaction was rather dramatic). After only a couple meals, the silent companionship was comforting compared to eating alone.

And Malfoy has been eating alone the last five years, she reminded herself.

With a sigh, she finished her meal and made her way to one of twenty bedrooms with a cursed wardrobe.

The room was dusty and unkempt which she thought was unusual, but upon entering the room she could sense something was off.

Finally something interesting.

Hermione did a quick diagnostic scan of her own creation and found four powerful jinxes.

Rolling up her sleeves, she got to work.

It took nearly two hours, but she felt a sense of accomplishment after wiping sweat from her brow.

A mummy curse she'd only encountered once before, which quite painfully mummified the individual. The brain was turned into a thick smoothie and came out via nostril.

A jinx that erases all of one's short term memory.

And two curses that worked in tandem which first stopped your breathing and then apparated you to the nearest body of water where one would drown.

What could be so important in a wardrobe?

Confidently she opened the door... only to feel as if she was choking on air.

Ron Weasley was in the wardrobe.

"Hermione, I've missed you... why haven't you come home?"

She backed away, her entire body shaking with fear.

Fear.

"Y-you're n-not real," she choked out, her back now against the wall.

He grinned but his blues eyes flashed dangerously.

"No one can love you like I can," he said softly. "You're no one without me."

Hermione raised her wand, tears falling down her cheeks, but the spell just wouldn't come. How could she find humor in so much pain?

"Ri... riddi-"

Ron marched up to her, his mouth curled into a snarl. "You're going to get on your knees and put that pretty mouth to better use."

"N-no-"

His arm raised to hit her but footsteps made him turn.

She watched through bleary eyes how Ron grinned before his body began to change shape.

Horrified, she watched him shift into another character from her nightmares.

Fenrir Greyback.

However the infamous werewolf never managed to say anything.

"Riddiculus!"

Greyback turned into a black cat before vanishing.

Hermione's back slowly slid down the wall until she reached the floor before holding her knees to her chest and hiding her face.

Her bogart was Ron Weasley. A far-cry from her third year exam with Professor McGonagall telling her she failed all of her classes.

And now she has bloody embarrassed herself in front of Malfoy. Hermione Granger, a cursebreaker who couldn't even handle a pesky bogart.

Wiping her tears away and opening her eyes, she sees shiny black shoes nearly touching her trainers.

Expecting to see disappointment or cruel amusement, she didn't look away from Malfoy's shoes.

"Granger."

Taking a deep breath, her eyes slowly ventured up his tall frame to see Malfoy looking down at her impassively, but his cold silver eyes seemed rather warm.

He offered his hand to her.

"Let me show you something."

Chapter Text

Hermione and Malfoy's eyes locked for several seconds before she cautiously reached for his hand.

His hand was calloused from scars but surprisingly warm.

He helped her stand but when it seemed like he was going to let go, she tightened her grip.

She needed something to ground her and that just happened to be Malfoy.

Hermione's face grew warm from feeling his gaze, but she refused to look at him, keeping her eyes on the dusty wooden floor.

Malfoy's fingers intertwined with her's more firmly before gently leading her out of the room.

They walked for several minutes hand-in-hand and, though she could feel him glancing at her, she kept her eyes downward.

Eventually, he opened a door and he squeezed her hand as a familiar smell engulfed her senses.

Books.

Hermione looked up and gasped, her lips parting in amazement.

A library... and it was truly magical.

Three times the size of her flat, dozens of bookshelves reached the tall ceiling around the circular room. There was also a fireplace with comfortable couches and armchairs to her left and a large table with chairs to her right.

The ceiling itself was similar to the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall at Hogwarts except this seemed to only mimic the night sky. Millions of stars twinkled overhead where constellations could be seen.

Hermione didn't even realize her hand already left Malfoy's and she'd taken a few steps further into the room until she looked back.

Malfoy seemed... happy.

His smile was only something she'd seen once before, and how the slightest upturn of his lips seemed to brighten the room had to be some type of forbidden magic.

He seemed to have realized she was watching him and looked away, a blush crawling up his cheeks.

"You're welcome to the library anytime," he said quietly, fidgeting with his ring.

"Thank you," she said softly, her eyes flitting around the room and back to him. "It's gorgeous."

"Yes," he agreed, his eyes now solely focused on her's.

He cleared his throat and quickly left the room, closing the doors behind him.

Hermione turned back to the room and couldn't help but laugh in amazement.

For the first time in years, she felt at home.

Several days passed with ease.

In the morning she battled deadly curses and jinxes, while the afternoon was spent buried in books.

She nearly burst into tears at seeing an entire section dedicated to priceless first editions.

Malfoy joined her at meals again, and though they were spent mostly in silence, he would tentatively ask what she was currently reading when they were finished.

The words spilled from her excitedly in a single breath but he never seemed bored or annoyed when she answered with such exuberance... he looked genuinely curious.

Occasionally he would join her in the library, but he did so with purpose.

She would try to find out what he was reading, but he always caught her with a smirk and raised brow before levitating the book to its rightful place.

Naturally, this turned into some type of game where she would attempt to covertly see the title while he would walk and read absentmindedly throughout the room, managing to turn just as her head peeked around the corner.

Admittedly, Hermione's favorite part was seeing his smile before he turned.

Neither of them brought up the bogart incident, though she often thought about his bogart since this was easier than thinking of her's.

Had Greyback been the one to turn him? To cause those scars on his face?

It made sense... but when did this occur? Why?

She was missing something.

Dinner one evening had an odd tension about it. She'd just finished rambling on about the famous medieval Irish witch and potioneer Cliodna when he heaved a sigh and leaned back in his chair.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, flushing in embarrassment. "I didn't mean -"

"It's not you," he said quietly, his eyes looking cautious. "I have friends visiting tomorrow."

Hermione blinked. "Oh."

She bit the inside of her cheek nervously. Did he want her to leave? Who were they?

"Parkinson?" she guessed, trying not to make a face at the name.

Malfoy snorted, reaching for his glass of wine. "No."

"Do you... want me to leave?" she asked nervously, fidgeting with her napkin.

His silver eyes snapped to hers. "No, I-" He cleared his throat, taking a drink of wine. "It's just that one of them is also a werewolf... and you've already met them."

Her eyes widened. "The... the black werewolf?"

Malfoy nodded slowly, cringing slightly. "You might remember him from school... Blaise Zabini?"

Her mouth opened and closed, unsure of what to say.

"We... and Theo Nott... we've been experimenting with wolfsbane and unfortunately his trial hadn't been successful that night."

"Experimenting?" she asked curiously, trying not to think about nearly being eaten by a former classmate.

Malfoy shrugged, though the casualness seemed forced. "You can... see... tomorrow... if you'd like."

Her brows furrowed. "But the full moon isn't for another two weeks."

"Obviously."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but her brain was whirling. Experimenting with wolfsbane? How? Why?

"If you're not comfortable with them around," he said, looking at her seriously. "We can stay in the west wing for the evening."

She chewed her bottom lip, thinking it over. However there really was no need to think it through due to her curiosity being stronger than her nerves.

"It's alright," she said quietly, playing with her napkin again until she suddenly looked up at him anxiously. "Do they know about me?"

"Even as a mindless beast, we will remember in the morning what happened," he said with a grimace. "Blaise reached out to me shortly after I agreed for you to stay and knows... discretion... is needed."

This was becoming dangerously close to a conversation about the bogart.

She wasn't ready.

Malfoy seemed to sense this as well.

"Have you seen the gardens?"

Hermione shook her head, confused.

He stood and slowly approached her side of the table before stopping beside her.

"Would you like a tour, Miss Granger?" he asked pompously, raising a brow and offering his arm.

She bit back a smile, standing and cautiously wrapping her arm around his. "After you, Mr. Malfoy."

He scoffed. "It's Lord Malfoy, actually."

She snorted, ignoring the fluttering of her heart in being so close to his side. "I'm not calling you that."

Malfoy only smirked, leading her to a doorway hidden behind an abstract portrait.

Hermione never achieved what one would call "a green thumb" despite earning an O in Herbology. Nevertheless, the garden was beautiful and diverse. She recognized some, but not all, to which he would promptly answer when asked.

Malfoy eventually led her to a bench near a fountain and next to a bed of roses.

She immediately felt the loss of his arm around her's when they sat but blushed when his arm rested on the back of the bench behind her.

When had she grown so comfortable around him?

Malfoy wasn't looking at her but at the roses.

"After I was released from Azkaban," he said, his voice quiet and low. "I returned home."

She must have gotten a crick in her neck at how fast she looked at him, but he kept his gaze on the roses.

"My father was ill and due to the information he gave the Aurors, was allowed to be home on house arrest without a wand. My mother... had been given leniency due to Potter's testimony."

His jaw clenched at the mentioning of his mother, but he continued on.

"Though my father was no longer affiliated with his former... colleagues... he was hearing whispers of a resurgence underground. Greyback was building an army."

Hermione blinked. None of this had been in the Prophet nor mentioned by Harry and Ron. Wouldn't a sudden surge in the werewolf population be noticeable?

Malfoy seemed to have guessed what she was thinking. "These were only rumors... nothing viable... until five children of Death Eaters were attacked."

"None of that was in the Prophet," she blurted.

He glanced at her with a smirk, though his eyes were cold. "No one important enough to make the front page."

She frowned, but he continued on before she could comment.

"The Ministry was still pretending everything was under control," he continued, his voice bitter. "No need to warn the public."

"Greyback went after the Zabinis next. He raped and killed Blaise's mum in front of him before condemning him to this life."

Her hands covered her mouth in horror because she had a gut feeling what he was going to say next.

"Then he went after me," he whispered, his breath quickening though his focus never wavered from the roses. "We tried getting Auror protection but were denied... and my mum... she - I saw-" Malfoy's jaw clenched. "My parents... suffered the same fate as the Zabinis."

"The Aurors knew he was after us and were hidden on the outskirts of the Manor to 'catch him in the act' that night."

Malfoy's voice was now as cold as ice.

"By the time they breached the Manor, all they saw were three dead bodies and me."

Three. Was Malfoy implying he killed Greyback?

"To cover their arses, they told the public Greyback was caught and sent to Azkaban. And in exchange for my cooperation, they'd keep Blaise and I off the registry and leave me the hell alone."

They sat in silence for several minutes, but her mind was anything but.

The lies and prejudice of the Ministry;  Malfoy and Zabini watching the rape and murder of their mother's; Malfoy killing Greyback...

He hadn't outright said he killed Greyback... but Hermione found even if he had, she didn't feel any different.

The world was a better place without Greyback.

"Why did you tell me this?" she finally murmured, looking down at her lap.

She inhaled sharply when he gently tilted her chin up to face him, his eyes seriously searching her's.

Their faces had never been so close before and she had the sudden urge to reach out and trace the pink scars on the side of his face.

"Maybe one day you will trust me enough to share your story."

Chapter Text

Waking up in a cold sweat dreaming of Greyback, Ron, and the black werewolf, Hermione managed very little sleep. She regretted not asking Malfoy for another dreamless potion.

Much earlier than her normal, she walked in the direction of the library to find something to calm her nerves before breakfast; however when she rounded a corner, she crashed into something hard, and warm hands reached out to steady her.

"Alright, Granger?"

Hermione's face flushed, stuttering over an apology.

Malfoy was very wet and very much without a shirt on.

His eyes shined with amusement before gently moving past her.

When she peeked behind her, she quite literally gaped after him.

Malfoy's back was completely covered with tattoos but she only managed a glimpse of what looked like a celtic design of a dragon and runes along the animal's back before he turned the corner.

Not to mention his arse looked damn good in his swimmer shorts.

Granger was not alright.

She was the first one to reach the dining room for dinner and noticed how the plate settings had changed. Two plates on one side and two on the other.

"Hermione Granger, I take it?"

Steadying herself mentally, she turned to see three wizards.

All three wore expensive robes and she internally cringed at the muggle jeans and t-shirt she'd decided to wear.

Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott were nearly opposites in appearances.

Theo had pale skin with strawberry blonde curls and green eyes whereas Blaise had olive-brown skin with black almond eyes and hair.

Then of course there was Malfoy whose white-blonde hair was attractively pulled back in a small bun with silver eyes that made her feel rather warm. The three scars across his face which had once made her feel frightened, only brought feelings of familiarity.

Malfoy came to stand next to her and placed a hand on her mid-back.

If she wasn't tomato red before then she definitely was now.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Granger, this is Blaise and Theo."

Taking a shaky breath, she extended her hand, looking into the dark eyes of the werewolf where the wizard's humanity could now be seen.

Blaise smirked and shook her hand. "Draco gives rubbish introductions. I'm the werewolf that tried to kill you several weeks before. Nice to see you again, Granger."

Theo, who she vaguely remembered being second in their class, smacked Blaise upside the head and elbowed him out of the way. "Theo," he said simply with a kind smile, turning her hand over to place a chaste kiss on her knuckles.

Malfoy's hand on her back turned into a fist.

"Bloody glad that's over," Malfoy drawled, steering her back to the table.

He pulled out a chair for her and she nervously sat as Blaise and Theo sat across from them.

Malfoy sat next to her.

Hermione's hands were trembling on her lap under the table and she had the urge to excuse herself from dinner and hide in the library.

Why was she so bloody nervous? Was it from the change in the familiar? The fact they were men and strangers? Or that Ron would have figuratively (or actually) killed her for dining with them all?

A larger calloused hand tentatively intertwined with one of her's, resting on her thigh.

She glanced at Malfoy but he wasn't looking at her. He was chatting up Quidditch with Blaise.

His thumb made soothing patterns against her skin and she focused on this before taking a sip of water.

She choked when Theo flashed her a wink.

"Stop flirting, Theo," tutted Blaise, his hand wrapping around the back of Theo's neck.

Theo smirked, sending her another. "Granger doesn't mind, I'm sure."

Malfoy's hand tightened in her's as she blushed.

The house elves brought their steaming meals to the table and she gave Pip a quick peck on the cheek, thanking him.

The house elf blushed furiously in his handsome three piece suit.

"Alas, her heart belongs with another," sighed Theo dramatically. "Guess I'm stuck with you after all."

Blaise smirked. "Stuck with my large co -"

"Bloody hell," Malfoy muttered, squeezing her hand once more before relinquishing to eat. "No talk of cocks at the dinner table."

"There's usually not a lot of talk - oi!"

Blaise had jumped, scowling at Malfoy who only smirked. She could see him pocketing his wand.

Hermione's lips were pressed tightly together, holding back her amusement.

They ate in mostly comfortable silence, enjoying their steak and kidney pie.

"Wonderful as always," sighed Theo, setting his silverware neatly on his plate. "Let's finish up our session so we can get pissed."

Hermione's brows furrowed in confusion while Malfoy only rolled his eyes, pushing back his chair.

"Coming?" he asked as Blaise and Theo made their way in the direction of the west wing.

She nodded and followed after him.

"You've been quiet," he said suddenly, hands in his trouser pockets under his robes.

Shrugging, Hermione glanced at him. "Nothing much to say."

"What are you reading?"

She couldn't help but smirk. "Brushing up on runes actually."

Understanding dawned on him after a few seconds before he smirked back with a playfulness in his eyes. "Did you like my tattoos, Granger?"

Hermione really did try not to blush, looking straight ahead. They were heading in the direction of the library.

"Th-they were alright," she said, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Just alright?" Theo scoffed as they approached, looking mildly offended. "I bloody hope not."

They entered the library and Blaise and Malfoy immediately went to take their shirts off while she tried not to gape. Again.

They both straddled their own chairs with their backs to her.

"Don't be shy," Theo said with a grin, looking back at her. "Come have a look."

Cautiously she approached as Theo arranged a few potion bottles on the table.

Blaise had a celtic design of a jungle cat. The cat's paw with sharp claws were at his shoulder where three large scars, similar to Malfoy's, marred his skin.

Runes similar to Malfoy acted as stripes on the animal.

Malfoy's was much more intricate and the level of detail to the dragon was impressive.

The runes she could read represented strength, resilience, protection, wealth...

"What's this one?" she asked, lightly touching the rune. Malfoy's back tightened but he didn't move.

It looked like Harry's lightning bolt scar.

"Sowelu," Malfoy murmured. "Wholeness."

Her mind quickly put the pieces together. "The tattoos are your experiment," she said, stepping back and sitting in her own chair, eyes not leaving the dragon. "How does that relate to wolfsbane?"

"We mix the tattoo with wolfsbane," replied Theo, sitting behind Blaise. "By embedding the wolfsbane in the skin permanently, the potion doesn't need to be brewed every month." He glanced at her wide eyes with an impish grin. "That's the theory anyways."

"Obviously the amount of wolfsbane we used didn't work for me," Blaise drawled, turning to glance at her.

Malfoy kicked him and he cursed.

"Draco's did," added Theo, raising his wand and having what she presumed to be wolfsbane leave the potion bottle on the table "We tried using less to find out -"

Blaise cleared his throat loudly.

"-how much it will effect your libido."

Malfoy and Blaise both turned to look at Theo with scowls.

Smirking, Theo only made a circular motion with his finger so they'd turn back around.

Hermione had her suspicions he was lying, but she could ask Malfoy about that later. 

"What are you adding to the design?" she finally asked curiously, moving closer.

"A few runes for the additional wolfsbane."

She watched with amazement as the wolfsbane drifted towards his wand that was pointed at Blaise's back and melded with his magic. Black ink started embedding into his back.

Theo's brows were furrowed in concentration.

How was he doing that?

It'd been so long since she's learned something new, she couldn't help blurting questions.

Blaise or Theo would answer but she'd been so consumed by this new knowledge she'd only just realized Malfoy was staring at her with a small smile.

Her eyes flashed to his and he quickly looked away.

Theo wiped sweat from his brow and observed his work.

He added runes for luck, discipline, and peace.

"What do you want Draco? Should we try not adding wolfsbane this month?"

"Yeah, let's give it a go," he sighed before turning to her with a raised brow. "What should I add to my design, Granger?"

"Er -"

"Don't tell him!" said Theo suddenly with a grin.  "You trust her Draco?"

Malfoy's eyes were serious while looking into her's. "Yes."

Her face flushed and her stomach seemed to be doing somersaults.

"Granger?" whispered Theo conspiratorial. "What should we add?"

Chewing on her bottom lip and taking a few seconds to consider, she whispered her idea into his ear.

He snorted. "Fitting."

"Should I be worried?" Malfoy drawled, sounding unbothered.

Theo didn't answer, sending her a wink before getting to work.

Nearly fifteen minutes passed before he finished and Theo slammed his wand on the table with a satisfied grin.

Blaise looked at Malfoy's back and laughed. "Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus."

"Never tickle a sleeping dragon," she whispered with a grin.

Fitting indeed.

Chapter Text

"Fancy some elf mead, Granger?" asked Blaise cheerfully, preparing glasses.

"I'm not allo-" she abruptly stopped, her mouth going dry as panic bubbled up her throat.

"You're not allowed?" reiterated Theo aghast as he and Blaise exchanged a bewildered look.

Malfoy's eyes flashed to her's sharply and the understanding in the silver had her panicking more so.

Hermione laughed nervously. "I'm... only joking. I'll take a glass, Blaise, thanks."

Theo and Blaise eyed her oddly but didn't question it while she avoided Malfoy's heavy gaze.

Ron stopped allowing her to drink two years ago, but she was allowed butterbeer with permission. Well, she couldn't have many things without permission.

It didn't start out like that, of course.  First it was off-hand comments about her clothes not fitting right or a joke about laying off the sweets and patting her stomach mockingly.

As she stared at the glass of mead between her palms, the condensation cool against her skin, she realized how much of her life has... had been controlled. Especially in the last year after being engaged.

Why are you adding dressing to your salad? Don't you want to fit into your wedding dress?

It's a good thing you don't drink, Hermione. Wouldn't want the public thinking you were some slag at the pub!

"You don't have to drink if you don't want to," whispered Theo, making her jump. She hadn't even realized he'd been sitting next to her.

"It's been a while," is all she said before taking a small sip.

The mead was pleasantly sweet.

She felt excited with breaking the rules like she sometimes did back at Hogwarts: encouraging Harry to lead Dumbledore's Army or sneaking out under the invisibility cloak after hours or brewing Polyjuice... she broke the rules quite a bit actually.

Hermione giggled to herself which caused conversation around her to pause.

Merlin, how strong was this stuff?

"Something funny, Granger?" Malfoy drawled, sitting across from her with his ankle resting on his other knee.

His silver eyes were amused but curious.

"Just thinking back to my time at Hogwarts," she said with a blush, taking another drink of mead.

"Ah, Hogwarts," Blaise heavily sighed. "To be young again..."

"Oi, I still am young!" interrupted Theo offended, a hand on his chest.

Their continuous bickering had her giggling again, and she didn't even notice how all of their gazes were eyeing her with fondness.

After nearly an hour of laughter, she was officially pissed and having a wonderful bloody night with three Slytherins.

Theo eventually forced her to dance with him and was twirling her across the library.

Hermione felt... free.

Alive.

She laughed again as he spun her between the bookshelves and glanced happily up at the bewitched starry ceiling.

However as she spun, smooth hands were now calloused and she inhaled sharply at somehow being in the arms of Draco Malfoy.

"Mind if I cut in?" he asked with a charming grin that took her breath away.

Hermione shook her head, shyly grinning back.

Blaise and Theo were nowhere to be seen but this information was irrelevant due to Malfoy's hands resting on her hips as he hummed an unfamiliar tune.

She'd never seen him so relaxed.

Hermione sighed happily, gently resting her forehead against his chest. Malfoy's arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly to him.

She was warm and safe. Something she rarely felt in another life.

"Time for bed, hm?" he murmured some time later when she quietly yawned.

She nodded but didn't move.

Malfoy suddenly lifted her upward until she was bent over his shoulder.

"Hey! Let me down!" she protested, despite having a rather good view of his arse.

He ignored her and simply walked out of the library, though she managed to catch a glimpse of Blaise and Theo cuddling and asleep on the sofa.

Hermione continued to weakly protest, but his steps didn't falter as he left in the direction of the opposite wing without a word, his arm wrapped securely around the back of her thighs.

When they reached her bedroom, he leaned forward so she would freely fall and she giggled as she bounced on the bed.

Malfoy grinned down at her and she smiled, her eyes feeling heavy.

However panic bubbled in her belly when he turned to leave and she quickly reached for his hand, holding it tightly as if he'd vanish.

"Stay?"

Her bottom lip jutted out like a small child's, and eyes look up into his pleading before quickly closing them, not wanting to see the rejection or hesitation.

His hand momentarily left her's and tears pricked her eyes, but movement behind her on the bed and an earthy-mint scent told her he had decided to stay.

She smiled brightly and hummed in appreciation when his arms wrapped around her waist from behind, caging her to his chest.

"Thank you," she whispered, her much smaller hands on top of his that rested on her ribcage.

Malfoy didn't say anything right away, holding her tightly.

"What were you giggling about before?" he whispered into her hair. "About Hogwarts."

She smiled, her eyes still closed as sleep was nearly in her grasp. "Breaking the rules. I did it quite a bit."

"Break the rules all you want," Malfoy whispered, his voice sounding faraway.

Darkness was welcoming her warmly and safely as she drifted into a peaceful sleep.

"Just don't leave."

When she awoke to the sun peeking out behind the curtains, she groaned, hiding under the covers.

Belatedly she remembered asking Malfoy to stay, but was very much alone this morning.

She wasn't sure how to feel about that. Did he leave as soon as she fell asleep? Or had he only just left?

Eventually, she decided it didn't matter because... it just didn't. She was only a guest here at Malfoy Manor and she needed to start planning her return to society... away from Wizarding Britain where Ron couldn't find her.

She asked Pip for a journal earlier in the week and as Hermione began getting ready for the day, she occasionally jotted down a few notes.

Glancing at her forearm, she made another note:

♡ ask Theo for a tattoo

Making her way down to breakfast, there was something off.

Malfoy wasn't here.

So when Frog brought her eggs and toast, she asked.

His ears drooped slightly. "Master isn't feeling well."

Her eyes widened. "Is he alright? Anything I can do?"

"Master often falls ill a week before the full moon, Miss Granger," he said gravely, before going back to the kitchens.

She remembered Professor Lupin always looking worse for wear a few days before and after the full moon. When Professor Snape assigned the essay, everything had fallen into place.

Maybe there's something in the library that could help alleviate his symptoms?

Feeling like her confident younger self where all answers could be found within the pages of text, she took her plate with her into the library.

She researched the rest of the day on werewolves and was surprised at the lack of information and research. Why wouldn't Malfoy order more or ask his house elves to purchase newer material? Surely he'd done some research before mixing wolfsbane with runes?

Changing tactics, she looked more into wolfsbane specifically. She tried not to cringe at discovering Malfoy was writing in the margins.

The writing reminded her of the Prince's book. Many measurements were crossed out and altered, stirs and directions slightly modified.

She sighed. Thinking of the Prince's book led to remembering Harry was an idiot which led to thoughts about Harry in general.

He was probably worried sick about her. Harry had always been good at thinking with his gut rather than with logic which is why he'd been suspicious the last few times she'd been injured.

Harry probably didn't even realize it was Ron causing the damage, but he knew there was something wrong.

She hadn't been brave enough to tell him. Because everything was fine, wasn't it?

Her mantra and thin thread of sanity.

Everything was fine.

She wanted to write to Harry. It was the least she could do... but fear was squeezing her heart at the implications.

In order to write to Harry, she'd need see the latest edition of the Prophet and prepare herself. But she wasn't quite ready to see what tale Ron had spun to explain her disappearance the night before their wedding.

She stared down at the piece of parchment with only the words Harry at the top.

With a heavy sigh, she crumpled the piece of paper, walked over to the fireplace, and tossed the paper into the flames.

Sorry, Harry, she thought, watching the paper turn to ash. I'm not ready.

Chapter Text

Malfoy,

Your absence during meals has left me without someone to ask what I am reading. I was curious about wolfsbane, but to my horror, I noticed you're the type of wizard who writes in your books. We can no longer be friends.

With the utmost disappointment,

Hermione Granger

Granger,

You really had to use a ruddy owl and not one of my four house elves to deliver this? How impractical.

Many potioneers write in the margins of their work. Will you be writing a letter to Libatius Borage as well?

Why are you looking into wolfsbane?

Your enemy then,

Draco Malfoy

Malfoy,

Enemy is a bit dramatic , don't you think? What about flatmates?

I didn't want to bother the house elves. They were playing poker last I checked.

I was researching more on werewolves and alleviating the symptoms.

Your flatmate,

Hermione Granger

Granger,

Since when do my bloody house elves gamble? ... who's winning?

Legally speaking, I would be your landlord. Lord Malfoy works as well.

Don't waste your time on researching lost causes.

Draco

Malfoy,

Pip was winning, but Matilda says it's beginner's luck.

Over my dead body will I be calling you "Lord".

Lost cause? There's no such thing.

Hermione

Granger,

Don't be so naiive. I don't appreciate the phrase "over my dead body" considering you barged into my solitude with said almost "dead body".

M alfoy,

It's a muggle saying. I'm sorry for interrupting your solitude. I hope to be on my way in the next few weeks.

Granger,

The fuck do you mean in the next few weeks?

M alfoy,

That was our agreement. I can try to leave earlier? I've sent a letter to a friend of mine in Bulgaria who I might be able to stay with.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.

An eery silence fell over the west wing.

"Malfoy?" she asked quietly, feeling apprehensive. "I... I just wanted to say thank you for er - your hospitality and kindness the last month. I'll get out of your hair now."

The silence continued.

Well, what had she been hoping for? That'd he'd beg for her to stay?

Still chewing on her bottom lip, she made her way back in the direction of the garden, failing to hear the growling growing louder behind the door.

Standing in the middle of the garden in the dead of night was probably not the safest option. She usually didn't procrastinate such departures, but Malfoy Manor that had once been the epitome of hell became her home.

Shaking her head, she thought of the apparition point in Paris to the Charles de Gaulle Airport and promptly disapparated with a loud crack.

When she opened her eyes, she huffed a growl that would give Malfoy a run for his money. She was back in her bedroom at Malfoy Manor.

With a clench of her jaw, she made her way back down to the gardens. Perhaps she needed to be farther from the manor?

Nervously eyeing the now visible full moon shining above, she tried again... only to be given the same results.

Why couldn't she leave? Was it a safety measure for the night? That made sense she supposed... but she was now trapped in the Manor and this thought didn't settle well with her.

There was always the expectation she could leave whenever she wanted, but Malfoy conveniently failed to mention this.

A howl echoing through the Manor reminded her why she wasn't confronting Malfoy at the moment.

He was a bit busy.

Had the wolfsbane in the runes sustained long enough into the next month? Or did the experiment go wrong?

Swallowing hard, she raised her wand towards her door just in case. It'd been a long time since she had casted protection spells.

They didn't exactly bring back happy memories.

A second howl from outside had her running to the window.

The black werewolf was back.

Blaise.

He was climbing over the gate.

Theo told her how Blaise would always go to Malfoy Manor during the full moon. He felt safest at the manor. Safe that he wouldn't hurt anyone "aside from Draco but that's hardly a concern".

She refocused her enchantments to the three large windows in her suite, making eye contact with the dark eyes of Blaise Zabini as he jumped the gate.

It was hard to tell from this distance if there was humanity staring back.

She watched with curiousity how he would manage to get in, but the wolf only winked up at her before opening the front entrance with its large paws.

Hermione was 80% sure this was the sane mind of Zabini based on the wink alone but she could be mistaken.

Two howls echoed through the Manor, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

No reason to panic... just trapped inside the manor with two werewolves who were practically impervious to magic.

Yet, with two werewolves roaming the halls, she'd take this once a month over living in fear every night with Ron.

Would he have a good day at work? Merlin, she better hope so.

Did she cook dinner the way he liked? She'd find out soon enough.

Was she wearing the lingerie he liked? If not,  he...

Hermione inhaled sharply, her palms digging into her eyes until she saw stars.

It was if she could feel his clammy hands groping her breasts clumsily, choking her to the brink of passing out. The pleasure reflecting in his baby blue eyes from her struggling to breathe... helplessly gripping his hand to release her...

Hermione jolted from the terrible memories as scratching and whining could be heard against her door. 

She didn't move, her hand gripping her wand so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Whining continued outside her door, the door knob rattling.

What if someone was hurt?

"If... if you're safe, knock twice," she said, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

The whining stopped and she waited, wand pointed at the door.

Two thuds equivalent to a knock shook the door.

"Do that again, but three times."

Werewolves were intelligent, but to listen and follow commands was unlikely unless...

Three thuds resounded against the door.

Swallowing hard, she dismantled the wards against the door and unlocked it but kept her wand ready.

A black snout pushed the door open further and she stayed frozen in place, waiting.

The wolf didn't enter, but pushed the door enough to look into her suite from the threshold.

He whined again, ears flat to his head.

"Blaise?" she asked quietly, holding her breath.

Its large head nodded before whining again.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, lowering her wand ever so slightly.

Blaise whined again, stepping further into the room.

She stayed still as he approached. He was massive up close, she'd almost forgotten. Blaise could easily reach 220 centimeters tall on his hind legs.

Hermione attempted a smile, patting the top of his head. "Good to know the runes worked."

His snout nuzzled into her hand before he whined again, using his head to push the back of her legs.

"Is it Malfoy?" she asked quietly.

Blaise whined louder, nudging the back of her legs again.

"Is - is he hurt?"

Blaise trotted back to the door, looking back at her impatiently with a growl.

"I'll follow," she whispered anxiously, casting a lumos.

Hermione followed the werewolf to the opposite wing and a familiar door.

The drawing room.

Tightening the grip on her wand, she followed Blaise into the room, the door already ajar.

The air was thick with dark magic but something was amiss. She could smell blood.

Hermione entered further into the room, following Blaise, until she froze, covering her mouth with horror.

Malfoy's white fur was matted with blood. Horrible deep scratches against his face and side were creating a puddle where he laid.

Blaise whined again, his snout nudging Malfoy's.

Silver eyes stared at him, then at her, before he growled and turned away.

Blaise obviously didn't cause the marks, which meant these were self-inflicted. She remembered reading how they often took their frustrations out on themselves, which is why Professor Lupin would often have scratches on his face.

It's why Harry's dad and godfather became animagi to help him during transformations when they were all attending Hogwarts.

The house elves wouldn't be back until morning since Malfoy orders them away every full moon for their safety.

She kneeled next to Blaise, looking carefully at Malfoy's injuries.

"I'm going to heal you," she said quietly. "Stay still."

Malfoy growled quite ferociously, eyes flashing angerily.

Hermione scowled, crossing her arms. "Don't be so dramatic."

A rumbling next to her from Blaise sounded like his version of laughter.

She oddly felt the same confidence as last month in handling werewolf Malfoy compared to the wizard.

Malfoy growled again when she shuffled closer.

"Seriously, Malfoy?" she said, narrowing her eyes.

Malfoy huffed and eyed her with obvious annoyance.

"Then let me bloody heal you, you infuriating walnut."

Blaise did his version of laughter again while the silver eyes rolled.

Malfoy huffed again, but laid his head down and did some type of grunt.

She took that as assent and got to work, carefully healing the scratches to his side first before moving onto his face.

Shuffling closer to his head, she ran her fingers through his white fur and couldn't help but smile at his soft hum.

When finished, Malfoy opened his eyes and stared at her with an emotion she couldn't place.

He yawned, giving her quite the view of sharp canines.

She surveyed the room and found a slightly worn quilt over the shredded sofa and accioed it to her.

Carefully, she draped it over Malfoy who continued to stare, though his eyes blinked sluggishly.

"I'll see you in the morning," she whispered, scratching him behind the ear.

Malfoy sighed and curled into a ball.

Hermione stood, feeling an ache in her legs from kneeling for so long.

Blaise nudged the side of her leg in what she guessed was a "thank you" before curling up next to Malfoy.

She attempted a tired smile. "Good night."

Both watched her, night and silver, as she left the room.

Chapter Text

Just like the morning after the full moon last month, Hermione woke up with Malfoy sitting at the vanity in her suite.

Hermione sat up slightly, leaning back on her elbows. "Morning," she said softly, taking in the purple shadows underneath his eyes.

"Morning," he murmured back, not quite looking at her.

"Malfoy," she started gently, snorting quietly when he only grunted in response. "Come lay down."

Hermione reached her hand towards him with an amused smile.

She expected apprehension or another grunt, but instead he silently stumbled up towards her hand and allowed her to pull him closer.

When his knees reached the edge of the mattress, he planted face first into her thighs.

The sound she made was something between a cough and laugh.

Malfoy mumbled an apology and quickly moved so he was laying next to her.

They were facing each other, nearly nose to nose.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his eyes tired but still serious.

Her brows scrunched in confusion.

"For telling you to leave," he continued, his eyes searching her's. "I was... angry."

"But why?" she whispered, looking now at his chin. She could see tiny scars from the scratches she healed last night.

"I don't... I didn't..."

His jaw was clenched and she glanced back to his eyes to see a war waging in the silver.

"I like the company," he said quietly as he twirled a curl of her's around his finger absentmindedly. "I... want you to stay, Granger."

Her breath caught, feeling already overwhelmed with his casual touch of her hair.

He wants her to stay.

Hermione realized she hadn't said anything after a few seconds but when her mouth opened, she heard his quiet snores. He'd fallen asleep.

She desperately wanted to trace the bridge of his nose and cheekbones, run her fingertips across his brow... his warm breath washed over her as he slept and his slackened hand was still in her hair.

Malfoy wants her to stay.

A smile played against her lips and she closed her eyes, a feeling of contentment washing over her. She'd nearly forgotten what that felt like.

She hadn't meant to fall back asleep but was gently roused by warm breath tickling her neck.

Cautiously she opened her eyes and realized how intimate they had shifted while asleep.

Somehow their legs were tangled together, Malfoy's face nuzzled into her neck, and his arm thrown over her waist holding her close.

She wasn't uncomfortable (quite the opposite really), but rather feeling emotions that had been safely buried.

Attraction and want.

Pleasure with Ron was one-sided. Even in the beginning, sex had been awkward with him, but she felt all they needed was practice getting to know what the other liked.

She'd always been a quicker study compared to Ron, but he didn't even try.

Why should he when his needs were being met?

Lavendar doesn't cry.

Did he take the time to figure out what Lavendar liked? 

Why did all good thoughts always lead back to him?

"Go back to sleep," mumbled Malfoy, nuzzling into her neck, the arm around her waist tightening.

He immediately started snoring again much to her amusement.

Chewing nervously on her bottom lip, Hermione carefully shifted so she could run her fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck.

She felt his approving hum tickling her neck, similarly to when he was a wolf, and smiled.

The thought that passed startled her enough her fingers stilled.

She could get used to this.

Harry Potter glanced over to his friend's face beaming up at him from the front page of the Daily Prophet.

His fingers drummed across his desk anxiously as he eyed her shy wave to the photographers.

This picture was taken after Ron loudly and publicly asked Hermione to marry him at the Three Broomsticks.

He remembered suggesting to Ron to ask in a quieter and private place like Flourish and Blotts or at Hogwarts... Harry was no expert at romance but he knew Hermione well enough that the Three Broomsticks wasn't ideal.

Hermione Granger: Cold Feet or Nefarious Affair?

How Rita Skeeter's rubbish journalism was continuing to be published was simply ridiculous.

Ron wasn't helping, continuing to agree to interviews and inquiries despite Harry's advice to lay low.

He'd been... strange... since Hermione's disappearance. Ron didn't even argue when Harry told him he couldn't be involved with finding her and was acting far too normal. He'd only taken a week of leave before returning to work, going about his day with case after case.

Still going to the pub with friends and getting pissed.

Ginny suggested this was how Ron was coping, but he wasn't so sure.

Harry never thought his two friend's relationship would ever last with how much they'd bicker but was proven wrong.

They rarely argued and Hermione was... not the same.

She used to be stubbornly independent and studious but after a few years, Harry grew concerned.

She went to work and that was that.

No excursions to a bookshop or wandering Muggle London... just a shell of her former self; ash of what once was flame.

Hermione was rarely alone so he'd try getting lunch with her at work in London, purposefully sending Ron on missions around noon.

He could see past the glamours on her arms and face, but she was always ready with an excuse.

It was extremely frustrating to have a gut feeling that she was suffering in silence but wouldn't tell him.

Harry loved Ron and Hermione, but something about Ron bothered him these last few years.

Said bothersome red-head strolled confidently into his office, his cheeks rosy.

He raised a brow, but Ron waved a hand dismissively, sitting across from him.

"No news from Hermione then?" asked Harry quietly, glancing at the Prophet again.

Ron snorted and it took years of self control to not throttle his friend.

"Probably fucking some wizard," Ron said with a shrug, leaning forward and taking his crisps.

"Hermione wouldn't cheat on you, Ron," said Harry sharply, taking his crisps back. "What if she's hurt?'

Ron sighed deeply, slouching low in his chair. "What do you want me to say, Harry? Its been a month and there's no new information."

"I would rather you didn't assume her infidelity," said Harry slowly, fingers continuing to drum on his desk. "And running off to Rita with it."

"No one believes her shit anyway," he said with a yawn.

Harry was fuming. When did he become so calloused? 

"I have an appointment in five minutes," Harry finally said, busying himself with stacking files.

"I'll get out of your hair then," said Ron with another yawn, walking out and shutting the door behind him.

His schedule today was rather curious. He had an appointment with Viktor Krum who requested discretion for their "urgent" meeting, asking for direct access to his floo.

Most likely it was for a security detail at next month's world cup.

"Where are you, Hermione?" Harry murmured sadly to her photograph.

She only continued to shyly wave to the reporters.

"Fucking bitch," Ron muttered, staring into the fireplace at his flat, finishing off his liquor.

His home was a bloody mess without Hermione and his cooking was shit.

He was becoming rougher with Lav and she was starting to whine about the bruises.

Ron fucking hated whining.

Hermione knew to get on her knees and make him feel better, no words needed. He'd taken her for granted.

He didn't fancy spending his nights looking for her, but he'd be damned if he didn't find her first.

He threw his empty firewhiskey bottle into the fire before getting to his feet. He was searching the Forest of Dean tonight.

She had to have splinched herself, disapparating without a wand, but had to have gone somewhere familiar with emotional ties in order to do so.

With a heavy sigh, he disapparated.

His fiancé was beautifully submissive, but intelligent. She had to know what would happen if he found her... and Hermione was his to punish.

Chapter Text

Hermione was standing in a familiar dusty bedroom, staring apprehensively at the trembling wardrobe.

She had an epiphany earlier and needed to see it through.

Ron's control over her is - was - toxic. Every thought was plagued by him... his rules... his consequences...

Who was Hermione Granger without him?

She was determined to find out.

Moving far from Britain had been her initial plan, but her epiphany said this wasn't who she was.

Hermione Granger would not run away. This was her home and she be damned if he took that from her after everything.

Past evidence would suggest she is brave, logical, cunning... in theory, this is still her.

Her theory needed to be tested and though a bogart wasn't really him, it was a step closer in finding herself again. She needed to look into the baby blue eyes of fear itself and tell it to fuck off.

There was another underlying motivator, if she was honest with herself. A motivator she reluctantly untangled herself from this morning.

It wasn't Malfoy's job to stitch her back together, though he had quite literally did by magic at her arrival a month ago. She needed to prove to herself she could be Hermione Granger without help.

Without Malfoy.

She ignored the twinge of apprehension with her reasoning, that there was nothing wrong with needing help, but her stubbornness to prove herself - by herself - sealed her decision.

Gritting her teeth and with her wand at the ready, she wordlessly opened the wardrobe.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as the door creaked open to reveal her ex-fiancé.

Ron tilted his head, his expression bemused as he observed her.

"You think this will solve anything?" he mused, taking a calculated step closer. "That facing me will make you whole again?"

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, her wand still steady.

"It's a start," she said quietly, wishing her voice sounded less hushed. "I have to try."

Ron snorted. "What then, Mione?" Another step closer, but she held her ground. "You think Harry will believe you over me?"

She noticed her wand arm starting to tremble, but didn't dare take her eyes off of him.

"He always chooses me," he continued with a cruel smirk. "You know this."

"That's not true," she retorted, inhaling shakily in talking back to him. "When you were snogging Lavendar in school, he - he was there for me."

Ron laughed, though a glint of anger at her rebuttal could be seen. "He pitied you," he said, taking another step closer, his height beginning to tower over her. "You don't have friends, Hermione... None that care for you like I do."

Her thoughts flashed to Malfoy, but the bogart Ron could see this. His expression hardened, blue eyes darkening.

"You think the Death Eater cares for you?" Ron said quietly, now only inches away from the tip of her wand. "You think he will want my leftovers? A broken golden girl who is only good for reading books and getting on her knees?"

Hermione flinched.

"You're only a mudblood to him," Ron said harshly. "Disgusting and worthless."

"That's not true," she said, eyes filling with tears as she desperately thought of their night of dancing in the library and their limbs intertwined only hours before. "He - He's my friend."

Friend was an insufficient word and bogart Ron knew this.

"Are you going to fuck him, Hermione?" Ron asked, his face twisting into a terrifying grin. "Show him your worth through your cunt?"

Her wand was now touching his chest but he only continued to look at her with amusement.

Their heads both snapped towards the door at the sudden loud knocking. "Granger?"

His voice filled her with sudden warmth, bringing life back to her limbs.

"Granger," Ron mocked, eyeing her shrewdly. "He wouldn't tarnish his family's name for a mudblood," he said, though he now glanced at the rattling door warily. "He can't wait for you to leave."

"Slugs, Granger," Malfoy suddenly encouraged behind the door. "Second year."

"He doesn't even deny it," Ron only said with a roll of his eyes.

Slugs second year.

Hermione closed her eyes, picturing second year Ron throwing up slugs in the courtyard, ignoring the fact he'd been defending her from Malfoy.

"Riddiciulus."

"Don't be stupid," Ron said, though there was a hint of panic in his voice and his hand now gripped her arm like a vice.

"I'm not stupid," she said angerily, eyes flashing open. "Riddiculus!"

Ron staggered back, his complexion turning green before a slimy slug slipped past his lips.

The bogart quickly ran back to the wardrobe, slugs following in his wake.

They vanished as soon as the wardrobe clicked shut.

Simultaneously, the bedroom door burst open to reveal a haggard Malfoy, hair sticking up every which way. "What the hell, Granger?" he said, angerily approaching.

"I'm not stupid," she repeated to herself quietly, finally lowering her wand.

She could see Malfoy was struggling with what to say, his hands clenched into fists at his side. Her gaze firmly avoided his, looking past him at the wardrobe.

A few seconds passed before Malfoy heavily sighed. "You're not stupid," he said, and her eyes immediately flashed to his.

His gaze however was on her arm, a mix between concern and anger. "But your Gryfindor recklessness is."

She scowled, crossing her arms.

He seemed unperturbed with her annoyance, instead, raising his wand.

She instinctively took a step back and saw the hurt he quickly tried to mask.

"Just going to heal the bruise," he said quietly, silver eyes softening. "I won't hurt you."

"I know," she whispered, swallowing hard. "Sorry."

She felt the cool whisper of his magic against her skin.

"Don't apologize," he murmured, his fingers tracing where the bruise had been.

Hermione shivered at his touch but didn't dissuade the action.

Malfoy slowly wrapped his arms around her, encircling her until her forehead rested against his chest.

"What are you doing?" she said into his shirt, inhaling his comforting scent.

"I believe it's called a hug," he said, and she could feel his smirk against her temple. "From my limited experience, usually the other participant is hugging in tandem."

Hermione snorted, gently wrapping her arms around his waist; however, the longer they stood in each other's arms, the tighter she held him.

Her confrontation with Ron wasn't exactly a failure but not encouraging either. She hadn't vanished him entirely on her own and her frustration was palpable.

"I guess you deserve to know," she said bitterly, breaking the silence.

He didn't respond though she felt his jaw clench.

"About... about him."

She could hear his heart pounding, and the hands on her back were now fists.

"He... it wasn't..."

Her breathing was already becoming erratic, not realizing how difficult it would actually be to describe the hell the last few years had been.

"Take your time," he murmured, the fists on her back slowly unclenching and beginning to move in a comforting circular pattern.

She closed her eyes tightly, fighting back tears. "He didn't start out as a monster," she whispered, and the hands on her back stilled only for a moment before resuming. "He - We were each other's rock after the war... and through the pain and suffering, we were happy."

Hermione swallowed hard, her own hands now fists against his back. "But he... he changed. He expected more from me. My clothes were too Muggle... my body never good enough... my cooking wasn't to his liking..."

She took a breath, focusing on Malfoy's heart beat and his arms holding her to him.

"The first time he... I thought it was an accident. He had a rough day at work and.. he'd never been good at controlling his emotions - and - and - after, he apologized and cried, promising it wouldn't happen again..."

She didn't know if she was making any sense, if Malfoy was following her broken excuses.

"Eventually he stopped apologizing," she said, her voice now at a whisper. "And he - he wanted... more. Wanted... didn't care that I didn't... that I begged for him to stop... that he was hurting me when he would... would take me."

She couldn't get the bloody word out.

He would tell her she wanted this. That she consented when agreeing to be his. They were together - who would believe it wasnt consensual?

"Eventually I stopped... stopped..."

Her tears could no longer be held back and his arms tightened around her as she trembled.

"The n-night I-I came he-here -"

"Granger you don't - we can take a break."

His voice sounded strangled and thick.

She shook her head, tears drenching his shirt. She wanted to explain... needed to...

"It was -" Her breath hitched, and she took another moment to catch her breath. "- the night before our wedding."

She heard his sharp intake of breath over the sound of his heart.

"He wanted... Lavendar - I said no and he - he laughed when I asked if he was ch-cheating so I - I said we - we were done and - and - he -"

A sob broke through and her legs didn't seem to be working properly, giving out underneath her.

Malfoy didn't let her fall, holding her waist firmly with one arm and shifting his other to be underneath her knees so he could carry her.

Her head rested naturally against his shoulder, exhausted. She could tell he was taking her out of the room and down the hall, but the destination didn't matter.

Her theory would remain just that.

A theory.

Hermione Granger was no longer Hermione Granger.

Chapter Text

When she opened her eyes, Hermione was curled into a ball against Malfoy's chest while on his lap as he sat against the headboard in her bed.

A flurry of emotions rushed through her. Embarrassment. Sadness. Anger.

Malfoy shifted slightly and her face grew warm at the thought of how uncomfortable he probably was.

"Stay," he said quietly, a hand she hadn't realized was caressing her hair went still. "Here."

His other hand held a glass of water.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she silently took the glass.

The water felt like velvet against her parched throat.

He silently - and wandlessly she may add - refilled her water and she quickly finished her second glass.

She fidgeted with the empty glass, needing something tangible to distract herself with.

The silence was unnerving.

Did he think of her differently? Think of her as a coward for not leaving him?

She also unloaded years worth of trauma onto him and became a blubbering mess.

"Are you okay?" she finally asked anxiously. "I'm sorry, I -"

The glass was suddenly taken from her hands and her chin tilted up.

Malfoy's eyes were like a storm brewing dangerously on the horizon.

"He will never touch you again," he said, his voice low and terse. "I keep my promises, Granger."

She tried to look down but his grip was firm on her chin as he searched her eyes.

"He will never touch you again," he repeated, the reverence in his voice causing her to blink back tears.

"Okay," she finally whispered.

She desperately wanted to trust him with this promise, but she couldn't.

He searched her eyes again, their noses nearly touching.

Her eyes flashed to the lips that were mere centimeters away and the intention in his eyes shifted.

He let go of her chin and instead the back of his hand caressed her cheekbone down to her jaw.

"Can I kiss you, Granger?" he whispered, his hand now gently resting against the side of her neck.

Her breath caught as she observed the seriousness of his request. She knew her face was most likely red and splotchy from her tears and hair tangled and wild, yet how he looked at her was as if she should be revered.

Hermione shyly reached for his face to gently trace the three scars that stretched from his brow down to his jaw.

She didn't want to think after everything. She just wanted to be.

"Yes," she whispered, and the eyes that had closed from her touch flashed open.

Slowly he leaned in, his eyes careful, giving her time to turn away, but she didn't.

She closed her eyes when his lips brushed against her's.

The touch was soft as it was electric.

He pulled away after only a few seconds, but she followed, craving more of the comfort and sensation.

"Please?" she murmured, shifting her body so she was straddling his lap and hands were resting against his chest.

Malfoy groaned quietly, his hand moving to the back of her neck before crashing his lips to her's with far more force. 

He parted her lips with his own and tentatively flicked his tongue against her's, causing her to elicit a quiet moan.

Encouraged by this, the kiss deepened and her hands ventured into his hair, pulling lightly.

A low growl from him reverberated against her chest, sending a shiver of excitement through her, and she gasped when lithe fingers grazed the skin at her waist where her t-shirt had risen.

Their breathing was loud in the stillness of the room and she pulled away to catch her breath, however his lips only moved to her jaw and pulse point.

A pathetic cross between a whimper and moan was all she could do when his teeth grazed at the delicate skin on her neck.

"Are you going to fuck him, Hermione?" Ron asked, his face twisting into a terrifying grin. "Show him your worth through your cunt?"

"S-stop," she whispered hoarsly, not sure if she wanted to scream or cry.

Malfoy immediately stilled but didn't let her go, instead resting his forehead against her shoulder.

They sat there for several seconds, catching their breath.

"Don't go," Malfoy whispered, his arms now circling around her waist. "I'm - we can take this slow."

Hermione closed her eyes, tilting her head so her cheek rested against his, listening to the pounding of their hearts.

The problem was: she didn't want to take it slow. She didn't want to be treated with fragilty or something breakable. All she felt was broken these last few years, but in the midst of kisses there was a sudden feeling of confidence and genuine enjoyment. She was allowing her control to be taken as supposed to having it violently ripped away.

"I - you're a very good kisser," she finally said, the adrenaline beginning to dissipate.

She could feel his smirk in her shoulder and against her face. Hermione stifled a grin. "I would give you an E for Exceeds Expec -"

She yelped when she suddenly was pushed off his lap so her back was against the mattress and Malfoy was now carefully hovering on top of her. She couldn't feel any of his weight but his chest was touching her's.

His eyes were narrowed. "Take that back."

Her lips were tightly pressed together to prevent a giggle from escaping.

Malfoy pursed his lips, though his eyes were bright and playful. "I give you an A for Acceptable."

She gasped, affronted, having never recieved anything under an E. And that was only the one time for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"I change my mind, it was a D for Dreadful," she retorted, her eyes narrowed into slits.

Malfoy smirked and she tried to hide her apprehension.

"I'll show you dreadful."

Before she could blink, he licked her lips like a dog before trailing the sloppiest kisses she could imagine across her cheek and to her jaw.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh as she squirmed under him, her laughter turning into high pitch giggles as he now tickled her side.

"Okay, okay! It was an O!" she laughed breathless and the grin he gave her was simply stunning.

"Ahem."

Their heads both turned to see all four house elves staring at them, their eyes and smiles wide.

Both her and Malfoy blushed and he quickly rolled away from her, nearly toppling off the bed.

She had to bite her bottom lip to prevent a laugh from escaping.

"Did you er - need something, Tutu?" asked Malfoy, smoothing the wrinkles in his shirt when he stood, his cheeks a rosy pink.

"Lunch is ready, Master," she said sweetly, but there was a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Surely they hadn't all needed to be in her bedroom to inform them...

"Right, thanks. We'll be right down."

They bowed, their long pointed noses nearly touching the floor, before quickly leaving - excited whispers being exchanged as they exited.

"Nosy buggers," Malfoy muttered, though there was no true malice.

"We should er - freshen up then," she finally said, sitting up and cross-legged, enjoying the view of a flustered Malfoy.

"Right, yeah," he said, a hand going through his hair. "I'll just - yeah."

He took a few steps towards the door before quickly turning back to her, tilting her chin to give her a light kiss on the lips.

Her lips parted in surprise but he only nudged his nose with her's before leaving the room.

She gently touched her swollen lips and smiled.

Though her stomach churned at the thought of what others outside the Manor may think, she couldn't help but feel excitement.

Yes, she still needed to process her next steps into getting her life back and away from Ron, but whatever was brewing with Malfoy was having her feel lightweight and warm.

And Merlin, didn't she deserve a break?

Chapter Text

Over the next few days, a gravitational pull linked the two throughout the Manor.

During meals, the house elves had arranged their placemats to be next to each other which now involved secret smiles between bites and conversation.

They didn't spend all their time together snogging - though Hermione didn't think she'd mind - but they did cuddle together on the couch for light reading in front of the fire every evening.

She would wiggle her icy toes under his thigh and he would pretend to be exasperated with her antics, but the slight quirk of his lips told her differently. Malfoy would then drive her barmy by drawing mindless patterns on her calf, his other hand occupied with a book, his touch electrifying and distracting.

Neither commented on how she would often take ages to turn the page, focusing rather on calming her erratic heart and hormones.

At this moment however, she was alone in her suite, re-reading for the 100th time a letter from Harry.

Hermione,

Thank Merlin you're alive. Krum requested a private meeting to inform me you asked to stay with him but canceled at the last minute.

Where are you? Are you safe? Please come home to us... or tell me what I can do. You're my sister, Hermione. You don't have to do this alone. You refused to leave me while hunting horcruxes and I refuse to leave you.

Please respond. It will stay between us, I promise.

Harry

Hermione chewed anxiously on her bottom lip. His letter spoke volumes, or rather, what he hadn't mentioned regarding Ron and the wedding.

Harry had always insisted in battling his demons by himself and she stubbornly never let him.

How the tables have turned.

But what could she say back?

I'm perfectly safe in the same place I was tortured by Bellatrix and am snogging a former Death Eater turned werewolf.

She snorted lightly, glancing at the snowy white owl painfully similar to Hedwig perching on her window sill.

Harry must have told Godric to not leave until she gave a response.

Typical.

Chewing on her Muggle pen, she decided on short and sweet.

I'm safe. Need time to plan.

Love you too.

-H

She missed her daily luncheons with Harry. No matter how busy he was, he would at least squeeze in five minutes to check in on her.

Their lunches were often a double edged sword, since he would bluntly ask after her injuries, seeing past her perfectly casted glamours. Harry was far more observant than she had given him credit for in school.

Time to plan. Could she trust Harry? He often did take Ron's side... but they weren't children anymore arguing over the safety of broomsticks and suspicious potion books.

She was slowly researching into Wizengamot laws around domestic abuse and the grounds for building a case against Ron. Malfoy would eye her with a blank expression when noticing her reading material.

Sighing heavily, she rolled the parchment and casted a weather resistant charm before nervously giving the scroll to Godric.

He hooted cheerfully and took off into the snowy afternoon.

Wait, snow?

She gasped with excitement at the thick flurries swirling in the grey sky that was quickly turning the grounds into a winter wonderland.

The anxiety of Harry's letter temporarily forgotten, she quickly hurried from her suite to the gardens and transfigured her trainers into boots.

Hermione eagerly held out her palm and grinned with childish glee as snowflakes kissed her skin.

The crunching of snow made her turn and she saw Malfoy walking over, looking slightly disgruntled. However, she couldn't help but appreciate how the silver of his eyes dazzled through the snow and the color in his cheeks made her smile.

"Malfoy," she said softly when he came to a stop next to her.

"Granger," he replied quietly with a frown.

Her brows furrowed at his obvious grumpiness but yelped when he suddenly forced a Slytherin winter hat on her head.

Malfoy smirked, pleased with himself.
"You look fetching in green."

She blushed, hoping the cold would help disguise the rosiness in her cheeks.

Discreetly, she changed his luxurious emerald coat to a Gryffindor red.

"And you in red," she quipped with a grin.

His nose scrunched in an adorable way when he glanced down, eyes narrowing at the change.

"You have five seconds," he said slowly, eyes piercing into her's.

Her eyes widened as she took a step back.

Never taking his eyes off her's, he bent down to cup a large handful of snow into his palms.

"Run."

Didn't need to tell her twice.

She ran as quick as she could through the ever growing snow and nearly made it to safety behind a tree when she squealed at the impact of wet snow to the back of her neck.

Malfoy laughed loudly and though she loved this sound, she merely scooped a handful of snow herself with a smirk.

With a little help of magic, she used her wand to levitate the snow ball and proceeded it let it free fall on top of his head.

He gasped at the impact, eyes flashing playfully. "My father -"

Hermione giggled loudly, sending another directly to his face which he swiftly dodged.

"You're on, Granger!"

The next hour was spent in a fiery (rather cold, actually) battle of snowballs and strategic maneuvering.

When their attacks began to slow, she sighed softly and lazily fell backward into the blanket of snow.

She looked into the sky, snowflakes landing gently on her lashes, allowing her breathing to slow.

Crunching of snow was soon followed by Malfoy's perplexed expression looking down at her, blocking her field of vision.

"What are your doing?" he asked, raising a brow.

She raised a brow back. "Resting."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I could think of several more comfortable settings."

Hermione chuckled, closing her eyes with a hum, enjoying the stillness and fresh scent winter could bring.

Movement next to her had her peeking through her lashes to see Malfoy stiffly sitting next to her, hugging his knees to his chest.

She bit her bottom lip to stifle a laugh but this soon vanished when warm lithe fingers began tracing the contours of her face.

Opening her eyes, she swallowed hard in seeing Malfoy's intense concentration in tracing her brows, following a path down the bridge of her nose and cheekbones, and to her jaw and lips.

She parted her lips at his touch, warmth pooling low in her belly and giving life to her frozen limbs.

Never taking his eyes from her's, he carefully shifted so he was on top of her, forearms resting on either side of her head. Her breathing stuttered at the proximity and the devilish smirk gracing his handsome face.

He nudged her nose with his and it inadvertently wrinkled at the temperature difference causing him to laugh lightly.

"Question."

"Answer," she whispered, concentrating on her beating heart as his lips began brushing against her skin in the softest of touches.

Her eyes searched his when he pulled slightly away, the silver bright and twinkling in the wintery scenery. She gently traced the three scars on his face, temporarily cutting off access from his eyes when they closed.

Malfoy sighed deeply, opening his eyes again, a nervous energy suddenly there as he licked his lips. "Would you..." He cleared his throat, the redness in his cheeks becoming more pronounced. "Would you go on a date with me, Granger?"

She blinked rapidly in surprise.

With their recent intimacy, going on official dates hadn't even crossed her mind. However this was another boundary line they couldn't take back but she desperately wanted to see where things would go.

Merlin, a date with Draco Malfoy...

Hermione nodded shyly and the blinding grin she received was dazzling. He quickly swooped down with a passionate kiss that made her gasp, which he took full advantage of with his tongue, swallowing every moan and whimper. Her chest and hips unwillingly pushed upward into him and she could feel a rumbling growl in his chest reverberating.

Ron's voice was thankfully quiet today in the beauty of fresh snow and kisses.

Eventually he pulled away, breathing heavily, his forehead resting against her's and their noses touching.

"Tomorrow evening alright with you?" he whispered, his voice attractively low and hoarse.

She almost snorted at how proper he was being. As if she had other business to attend to elsewhere... though now she was curious on what he has planned. She doubted he would risk leaving the manor.

"Yes," she whispered, shyly giving him a swift kiss on his lips, loving how her confidence seemed to be growing day by day. "Sounds like a date."

The relief Harry felt in receiving Hermione's letter was palpable. To know nothing nefarious was behind her disappearance eased his mind.  She left willingly it seemed and he knew she would have given some kind of code or riddle if this wasn't the case.

He would lying if he didn't admit to being irritated in her lack of communication but as he pondered this during their weekly Weasley dinners, he was able to view her perspective.

Harry was Head Auror and also best mates (in appearances anyhow) with Ron. Her letter confirmed his suspicions though she hadn't outright said it.

Ron was somehow involved.

What was she needing to plan is what he wondered, and if she'd be willing to let him in to help.

Ginny nudged his side gently, clearing her throat, and he refocused.

Ron was staring at him oddly. Suspiciously even. Harry was doing a poor job at hiding his relief in Hermione's well-being.

"Any progress?" Ron repeated, his eyes flashing in annoyance.

Harry shook his head with a clenched jaw, attempting to appear crestfallen. He wouldn't be winning any awards for acting but hoped it'd be enough.

Weeks before, Ron didn't seem to care, but lately he was asking after Hermione daily. His appearence was also becoming more haggard, his actions less controlled, and Harry was nearly to the point of having to force Ron to go on an extended leave.

"Nothing," Harry murmured, slouching his shoulders.

"That's not good enough!" Ron exploded, getting to his feet and startling the table of Weasley's in attendance.

Harry closed his eyes with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Ron," he said quietly.

"Useless fucking Auror," Ron sneered, turning to leave and slamming the back door behind him. A faint crack of apparition was heard moments later.

"That's not fair to you," Ginny murmured, comfortingly running her fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck.

Harry sighed. "He's not wrong."

He did feel useless and was being put in an impossible situation. If Hermione needed time, then he would give that to her.

Hopefully before Ron did something stupid.

Chapter Text

They were up to something.

Hermione hadn't seen much of Malfoy nor the house elves since agreeing to their date. At first, she thought they were all innocently busy, but then Matilda banned her from the library that same afternoon.

She had stood in front of the double doors in shock, gaping at the petite elf wearing a frilly pink tutu over a silver leotard.

The elf's expression was stern but her eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Miss Hermione needs other hobbies!"

She marched back to her suite disgruntled after that, requesting from Pip to sneak her some books she'd been reading on Wizarding Law.

Her situation was unique due to being unwed. There were rarely cases in Wizarding history brought forth to the Wizengamot for domestic violence due to the magical binding of vows.

Marital abuse was more easily proven because of the magical contract being brought into evidence. The same spell that binded husband and wife could easily be studied; the golden band would look tarnished or splintered indicating their vows were not being upheld.

This meant she had more protection and a solid case once married but by then, her will and courage to fight back against Ron would've felt obsolete. The trauma and brainwashing through their relationship and engagement would've only continued to isolate her into marriage.

The law had too many loopholes for Hermione's liking anyhow and did nothing for her situation.

After the fight with bogart Ron, she had started extracting memories of the abuse and storing them into phials. Even then, it would take weeks of bureaucratic red tape to prove the memories were not tampered with once she filed a report.

Could she submit her memories as evidence beforehand while safe at Malfoy Manor? She worried about the memories being leaked and Ron having knowledge far too soon with being an Auror. Ron was smarter than most people thought. He was a strategist and she was bloody awful at chess.

Even if convicted, this wouldn't be enough to send him away to Azkaban for life by any means. He would eventually be free. He'd come after her.

Hermione pushed one of the larger texts off her lap with a huff, massaging her temple.

Was this all for nothing?

The former Hermione Granger fought for what was right and didn't shy away from a confrontation... but now all she wanted to do was run away and pretend.

She hated what he'd turn her into.

It wasn't fair.

Wiping away angry tears, Hermione fell back into bed.

Sometimes she felt incredibly strong and confident but other times, like now, she could feel powerless and weak.

Where was the Hermione who pushed Harry to lead an underground D.A.D.A. organization? Or the one who brewed polyjuice potion in an abandoned girl's bathroom? The witch who impersonated Bellatrix and jumped on the back of a dragon?

She'd even take her former jealous self who sent rageful birds against Ron in their 6th year to convey her unhappiness with his new relationship.

A Ministry owl pecking at her window brought her out from spiraling and she apprehensively left her bed to retrieve the letter.

She unrolled the parchment:

Hermione,

Please let me help you in whatever you're planning. You're not alone.

I know this involves Ron.

Harry

Hermione was hesitant to involve Harry further but he'd always been suspicious, hadn't he? His questions during lunch and somehow Ron always being too busy to join them.

She couldn't tell him about Malfoy - he would think she has gone mad.

Glancing at the bedside table where her memories were stored safely in a drawer, she knew she couldn't do this alone. She knew they could be tested with different diagnostic spells for tampering and didn't necessarily mean anyone had to look at them.

Hermione needed to put her plan into action. She needed to be brave.

Her fingers trembled as she pulled out a piece of parchment and her Muggle pen.

Harry,

You're right. It does involve him and I need a favor. Can you please have these memories filed as evidence and officially checked for tampering?

I'm trusting you to keep this between us . Respond once they are verified.

H

With how her hands trembled, she nearly dropped the phials.

After carefully shrinking them to fit within a small parcel, she tied the letter and box to the owl's leg. He then gave a small hoot and took off into the mild blizzard.

Feeling terrified and excited was an interesting mixture and only left her pacing around the room with a nervous energy.

"Oi! Granger!"

She jumped, eyeing her door warily.

"Really, Blaise? She could be sleeping, you dolt."

Hermione smiled at Malfoy's exasperation. She'd seen him only hours before in the gardens and yet it felt like Christmas to hear his voice.

"And miss seeing my handsome face?" she heard Theo retort while she quickly put her hair into a messy bun.

She opened the door with a raised brow.

Her eyes flashed to Malfoy leaning casually against the opposite wall behind Theo and Blaise.

He gave her small smirk in greeting and she tried not to blush.

"Can I help you?" she asked, leaning her hip on the doorway, keeping her brow raised.

"Do you want a tattoo, Granger?" asked Theo with an excited grin.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Er - I don't-"

"Maybe only drunk Granger wanted one," whispered Blaise loudly.

Her eyes narrowed.

She did want one actually but...

"Well, we'll be in the dining room if you do," said Theo with a knowing smirk. "Draco is getting one."

She glanced at the wizard in question who now appeared uninterested with their conversation.

"Noted," she said, not liking the mischievous look in Theo's eyes.

"It's a thigh piece," added Blaise, exchanging a grin with Theo. "So he'll be lacking certain... apparel."

"Merlin," she heard Malfoy mutter, shrugging away from the wall while her eyes flashed to his thighs without meaning to. "Sorry for allowing these two utter wankstains to bother you."

Theo and Blaise appeared mildly offended, following and bickering after Malfoy.

She waited fifteen minutes before following after them, her curiosity winning over the embarrassment.

Blasted Slytherins.

The familiar buzzing sound piqued her interest as she neared the dining hall, curious what Malfoy was adding that was separate from the dragon and runes on his back.

"Couldn't resist seeing Draco's attractive knobby knees?" Was Blaise's opening question at she approached before Malfoy smacked him upside the head.

"How rude," Blaise grimaced, loudly moving the chair he was in farther away from Malfoy.

Hermione snorted despite herself, having an odd familiarity with Blaise and Theo despite only meeting them a few times.

It was an odd sight to see Malfoy sitting in such a dignified manner in an ornate chair wearing tight black briefs.

She could feel her cheeks warming which was ridiculous because they were just legs. And muscular thighs. And -

Avoiding his silvery gaze, she now stood next to where Draco and Theo were sitting and could see what Theo was making.

They appeared to be a bouquet of flowers, though admittedly she didn't have much of a green thumb.

She jumped as Malfoy wrapped an arm low on her hips, and gently directed her to sit in his lap.

Theo smirk became more profound as he worked but he didn't comment.

"This alright?" Malfoy murmured, his chin resting on her shoulder and his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

She nodded and swallowed hard at the pleasure churning low in her belly, hyper-aware how her bum was sitting on his thigh she was just admiring and was fairly close to his groin. 

"It's a narcissus flower," Malfoy said quietly which broke her away from the sudden depraved thoughts.

She hummed, studying the bouquet Theo was designing.

"Also means new beginnings," added Blaise, whirling his wand between his fingers in nonchalance.

Malfoy's jaw oddly clicked on her shoulder as if irritated.

"Will you be adding wolfsbane?" she asked curiously.

Theo and Malfoy exchanged a glance. "We want to see how long the last dosage of wolfsbane will be effective from two months ago," said Malfoy slowly, the arm still around her hips tightening slightly. "You might need to stay with Theo during the full moon until we know how safe it'll be."

She looked back at Malfoy sharply, ignoring how her heart seemed to triple in pace with how close their faces were.

His eyes held her's sternly. "It's for your safety."

Hermione scowled, turning her attention back to the daffodils.

Theo was now adding color, sweat beginning to run down his temple at the exertion.

Malfoy's chin was back on her shoulder and his lips brushing her ear. "I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you, Granger," he murmured, his hushed voice sounding pained.

She chewed on her bottom lip, understanding his reasoning, but the image of Malfoy's wolf with several self-inflicted scratches still had her feeling nauseous.

There must be some type of way for them to communicate with one another that he was safe and she could be with him.

She pondered this while watching Theo finish the shading, the flowers coming to life on his thigh.

"Done," said Theo a few minutes later, brushing away his sweaty brown curls. "I almost made one of the flowers into the shape of a cock but I'm nothing but a gentleman. No need to thank me."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Looks good," Malfoy said quietly, ignoring the second half of Theo's statement.

"You next, Granger?"

She turned to Theo, contemplating.

"Granger," Malfoy started, his thigh tensing underneath her. "You don't-"

"Yes," she interrupted, standing up. "I - I really want my patronus - an otter - on... on my forearm."

She held out her arm to Theo; her scar could be seen faintly under the lights.

Theo smiled. "Let me fetch a pepper-up potion and we can start."

He looked over at Blaise and they both quickly left the room.

Her brows furrowed in confusion until Malfoy gently held her hips to turn her back to face him.

"Did you ever receive my letter?' he asked, his eyes searching her's seriously. "Would've been several years ago."

She blinked, surprised. "No, I -" she glanced down embarrassed. "Ron handled the post."

Malfoy tilted her chin back up to his face. "I wrote to apologize," he said quietly. "Apologize for how I treated you in school, for being tortured here... for being a coward," his jaw clenched, hands now carefully holding her's. "I knew it was unlikely to hear back from you but -"

"Thank you," she interrupted, smiling.

Malfoy scowled. "I wasn't done."

"Actions speak louder than words, Malfoy," she said quietly, anxiously searching his gaze to see if he was genuinely upset.

He seemed disgruntled as if she was giving him an easy way out.

Hermione stepped between his legs, carefully minding his new tattoo, and leaned down slightly to kiss him softly on the lips.

She smiled at his appreciative hum against her lips and laughed lightly when he positioned her to sit back on his thigh so she didn't have to lean down.

He had one arm around her hips and the other hand cupping her face as he deepened the kiss.

"Oi, where's mine?"

Hermione broke away, her face tomato red at their audience, but snorted lightly at the dispproving look Malfoy was giving over her shoulder.

She glanced shyly behind her to see Theo and Blaise with identical grins.

Malfoy's arm around her hips tightened, and she was suprised how she liked the possessiveness given the toxicity with Ron. She felt only safety and protection.

"Put some trousers on, Draco," Blaise drawled, his almond eyes glinting playfully. "You're looking a bit... excited."

She nearly toppled to the floor with how fast he stood and turned away.

Despite herself, she caught a glimpse.

Merlin, she was acting like a randy teenager.

"Alright, Granger, take a seat, and have your arm flat on the table."

She chewed on her bottom lip, sitting at the edge of the seat where Malfoy had been.

Theo scooted closer in his own chair and Blaise gave her an encouraging smile behind him. 

"The pain is different for everyone depending on their tolerance, but it's like a sharp, stinging sensation... take a deep breath for me, alright?"

She swallowed hard, her free hand gripping the arm rest of her chair.

"We can take as many breaks as you want," Theo soothed, searching her face. "If you don't want to -"

"I do," she said sharply, breathing deeply as Theo suggested.

Malfoy (trousers now on) stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders. Her hand that had been gripping the arm rest now reached up to hold his wrist. She felt him kiss the top of her head.

Chapter Text

Though her arm still tingled strangely the next day, she couldn't have been more than happy with the outcome of her new tattoo.

Theo had gone above and beyond.

The blue smoke of magic seemed to come to life as it swirled around her otter which swam playfully if touched.

Even Blaise and Malfoy were impressed, however it led Blaise down an inquiry of suggestions on what else Theo could bring to life...

They quickly left after that, having no qualms over public affection nor groping.

"Tempus," she murmured, eyeing the time.

Two hours before her date.

As if called, Tutu and Matilda appeared next to her with a crack.

Matilda was nearly vibrating with excitement. "Miss Hermione is to take a bath," she ordered, pointing to her adjoining bathroom.

"Please," Tutu squeaked with an eye roll which did nothing to deter the other elf. 

Hermione pursed her lips, smelling a lock of her hair as she left. Matilda acted like she smelled of onions.

There'd been a warm bath already prepped; the soap smelling of lavendar and vanilla which was soothing for her nerves.

When finished and wrapped in a plush green robe (of course), she exited only to gasp at what hovered near the vanity.

A gorgeous golden-yellow ball gown.

The dress held a sweetheart neckline and the straps hung like they would drape off her shoulders. She slowly approached to feel the fabric which seemed to be made of silk and satin.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, turning to a beaming Tutu and Matilda.

"Miss Hermione must sit so Tutu can finish Miss Hermione's hair," squeaked Tutu with an excited clap of her hands.

Nearly an hour later and the two house elves were assisting Hermione with putting on her dress, both quickly making last minute adjustments to the bodice and hem.

She almost burst into tears when they finally allowed her to look in the mirror.

Her hair was made into a simple half-up style with coiled flyaways to accent her face. The makeup only enhanced her natural features aside from the bold red lipstick. Not to mention the dress beautifully accentuated her waist, and her bare shoulders made her feel oddly daring.

She still looked like herself and wasn't sure how to process this with the beautiful woman reflecting back in the mirror.

"Thank you," she said quietly, as they helped her into a pair of black heels.

"Miss Hermione alright?" asked Tutu, looking concerned, ears flapping nervously. 

"Just overwhelmed," she murmured, taking a deep breath. "You both did wonderfully."

Matilda and Tutu flashed her proud grins before directing her to the door.

Steadying her heart with another deep breath, she followed them out and towards the stairway.

Her breath caught at immediately seeing Malfoy talking to Pip and Frog below, looking handsome in dress robes with gold embroidery to match her dress.

Pip gave an excited squeak upon seeing her, causing her to smile, and Malfoy looked up towards her at that moment.

She never gave much thought to "time standing still", especially due to her experiences with a certain time turner, but that's all that came to mind to describe the moment when his silver eyes locked with her's.

Malfoy's eyes widened, his lips parting slightly before widening into a charming grin before meeting her half-way on the staircase.

"You're stunning, Granger," he said quietly when she reached him, giving the back of her hand a kiss without taking his eyes off of her's.

She blushed lightly, looking slightly down, but Malfoy tilted her chin back up to see him.

"Hermione," he said, giving her a crooked grin while her eyes widened in surprise. "Doesn't matter if you're wearing a gown or one of your ratty t-shirts -"

She narrowed her eyes playfully, but truthfully she was trying to not cry.

"You're beautiful."

"Rather rude to dismiss all of Tutu and Matilda's work," is all she could think to say, her voice thick and failing to hold back tears.

He procured a cloth and carefully dabbed underneath her eyes to catch the tears. The tenderness of this act only encouraged more to fall.

"They're brilliant," he agreed lightly, eventually tucking the cloth into a trouser pocket underneath his dress robes. "But I meant what I said."

"Thank you," she whispered, taking his offered arm to finish the remaining stairs.

Malfoy kissed her temple before they turned in the direction of the west wing.

Her mind was begging to analyze and compare Malfoy and Ron, but there was simply no comparison.

Malfoy treated her with worth and respect. He offered safety and comfort, butterflies and laughter... she didn't want to think of Ron.

Tonight was about her and Malfoy and she was determined to focus solely on this. On them.

To no one's surprise, Malfoy led her to the library, but the double doors were now open.

She nearly asked if they were in the right place... well...

"Where did all the books go?" she asked in amazement to which Malfoy laughed loudly in response.

It was as if the Yule Ball from her fourth year at Hogwarts had been transported into the Manor's library - the room was simply gorgeous.

The bewitched ceiling was now akin to the wintry weather outside (without the icy temperatures) with hundreds of icicles floating above. Half a dozen Christmas trees surrounded an open dance floor (though one was curiously undecorated). The dining table to her left was set with golden plates and goblets and though the comfy couches were gone, the fireplace continued to burn. 

"I assure you the books will be exactly as they were by tomorrow," Malfoy said, sounding amused, lightly directing her to the dining table.

He pulled out a chair at the head of the table. "Guest of honor," he drawled with a wink, pushing her in once she was seated.

As soon as he himself was seated, delicious food appeared on their plates. Despite the magical change in setting, their dinner still involved secret smiles between casual conversation.

"But really... where did all the books go?" she couldn't help but ask curiously.

Malfoy snorted into his goblet of wine, his eyes glittering playfully. "Burned them all in the fireplace," he deadpanned with a shrug. "Naturally."

She narrowed her eyes with a calculating smirk. "I would have hexed you right in the bullocks, Draco. Don't test me."

He spluttered a laugh when he'd taken another drink, wine dribbling down his chin.

Her smirk grew at his blush and she grabbed her napkin to reach over to dab at his chin.

Malfoy didn't let her pull away, holding her hand and pressing his cheek into her palm.

"I have a gift for you," he said quietly, the playful silver softening.

He reached into his robes and set a rectangular ornate black box on the table and pushed it towards her.

Chewing on her bottom lip anxiously, she carefully opened the box.

A delicate golden chain connected to a raw green emerald pendent. Even more stunning than the gem was the powerful enchantments she sensed upon the necklace.

"It's the twin to this ring," he said quietly, looking down as he spun his signet ring. She had noticed him wearing it back in their fourth year. "Centuries old protection spells are encased in the emerald."

He looked up at her again, his jaw tense. "No one will touch you without your consent."

Hermione blinked away the tears, a lump in her throat forming.

"It's gorgeous." she said, her voice trembling. "Help me put it on?"

Malfoy stood and gently brushed her hair behind her shoulder, a trail of electricity following his every touch. He swiftly clipped the delicate clasp behind her neck, and the magic gave her goosebumps as it seemed to intertwine with her magical core.

He helped her stand, simply searching her face and eyeing the necklace with an emotion she couldn't quite place.

"Beautiful," he finally whispered, curling a lock of hair behind her ear. "If I kiss you now, I'm afraid we won't get to the rest of my plans for the evening."

"What kind of plans?" she asked hoarsly, overwhelmed.

She watched curiously as a blush crawled across his face. "I read that Muggle families often decorate their trees as a tradition. I thought maybe... maybe we could do that toge-"

No kisses be damned.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, her tongue immediately slipping past his parted lips to taste him and the wine.

He emitted a low moan, his hands wrapping tightly around her waist as he held their bodies even closer together.

She nipped at his bottom lip and a growl reverberated in his chest against her's.

"Dance with me," he said huskily, their foreheads resting against one another.

She'd barely finished her nod when he suddenly twirled her to the makeshift ballroom floor and her giggles were quickly snatched away as she spun.

An enchanted orchestra started to play from somewhere in the room but she wasn't looking for the music at the moment. Her focus was entirely on Malfoy and the way he held her, how he kissed her, looked at her, and twirled her across the floor.

Hermione knew reality would come crashing down eventually but not tonight. Not while she felt complete utter adoration and protection within the arms of Draco Malfoy.

They eventually took a pause from dancing to decorate the bare Christmas tree and she laughed when she saw the boxes of red and gold ornaments next to the green and silver.

She couldn't even remember the last time she decorated a Christmas tree... it had to be when her mum and dad were still...

Quickly wiping a stray tear, she moved on to the tinsel.

Gentle fingers touched her waist from behind and she looked up to see Malfoy's worried gaze.

So bloody observant.

She swallowed hard and leaned back into Malfoy's chest with a quiet sigh.

"Before Harry, Ron, and I left on our mission from Dumbledore... I erased my parent's identities, their memories of me, and suggested they move to Australia to keep them safe. I was young and scared... but when the war was all said and done, the damage done was irreparable. There was a high chance they'd go mad if... if we tried setting it right."

Hermione closed her eyes, the small circular pattern Malfoy was tracing on her waist as he held her was comforting

"The Minister and Healers at St. Mungos managed to lightly suggest they move back to Britain where I could keep an eye on them better, but... but it still hurts."

She didn't allow any other tears to fall as Malfoy wrapped his arms around her.

"I haven't done this in a very long time," she whispered, turning in his arms and cupping his face, his eyes closing at her touch. "Thank you."

He held the hand touching his face, his stormy gaze now searching her's. "You deserve the world, Granger. I would decorate a hundred trees with you if that's what you wanted."

She laughed lightly, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I know," she said softly. "Thank you."

They finished the decorations; Malfoy lifting her instead of using magic to place the star on top of the tree meant more than she could properly articulate.

Malfoy hummed to the music as he continued to dance with her.

However the words he soon whispered low into her ear caused her heart to race and the butterflies to be churning low in her belly.

"Let's go swimming."

Chapter Text

They walked together hand-in-hand in the direction of the pool, he generously holding her heels in the other.

The wine Hermione sipped at dinner had been minimal but this was a different kind of intoxication. One with storming grey eyes, beautiful words, and a siren's kiss.

She knew what this could lead to... and her conflicting emotions were just barely under the surface.

Excitement and fear.

But she truly believed - deeply - that Malfoy wouldn't hurt her and that was enough to see where this might go.

When they made it to the pool area, she rolled her eyes. Of course he would have an Olympic-sized swimming pool.

When she turned, a snarky comment on the tip of her tongue, she balked.

Malfoy had already transfigured his dress robes into swimming shorts and was looking at her with a playful smirk and risen brow. The prat.

Her eyes roamed across his body, her throat going dry.

The many scars across his chest and abdominal muscles didn't take away from his beauty. Rather, she yearned to trace them... taste them...

She blushed furiously at where her thoughts ventured.

There wasn't much exploration in sex or intimacy with Ronald. He would order her in a position and she would do what was told in fear of him being too rough.

In the beginning of their relationship, she would try to give him directions but he would appear hurt for suggesting his inadequacy in the bedroom. Within months, she gave up in reaching her own pleasure with him. She once bought a vibrator, but when he discovered the toy under a disillusionment charm, he assaulted her as if to prove a point that it wasn't needed. 

"You trust me, Granger?" Malfoy asked softly, twirling his wand, bringing her back to the present.

Hermione didn't hesitate with her response. "Yes."

He smiled and pointed his wand at her.

Whispers of his magic tickled her skin and she looked down to see he had transfigured her ball gown into a tasteful one-piece swimming costume.

For some reason, she expected a risqué bikini but was pleasantly surprised for his thoughtfulness.

She narrowed her eyes however at the mischievous glint in his eyes as he tossed his wand to the side.

How he was so bloody fast was beyond her but quicker than she could say "twat", he'd thrown her over his shoulder and jumped into the pool.

She cursed him loudly as they hit the water, his laughter echoing around the room. He was quick to make sure her head was safely above water and his grin was so contagious she couldn't help but grin back.

The water was cool but refreshing and any remaining tension in her muscles were beginning to unwind.

They did a few laps together but soon she stopped to watch how his back muscles flexed with each stroke. She wanted to trace every line and rune of his dragon tattoo, she wanted... him. All of him. Pleasure fluttered in her lower belly.

He swam towards her, his silver eyes bright when he stopped directly in front of her. The coolness of the water did nothing to mitigate the heat she felt in his presence.

"You're blushing," he whispered, moving her curls behind her shoulder. "What's on your mind?"

You.

"I - I want... you... but I'm nervous," she said quietly, her cheeks growing even hotter in embarrassment at the confession.

"You're in control, Granger," Malfoy murmured, nudging her nose with his which never failed to make her smile. His eyes turned playful then, a smirk playing at his lips. "And I wouldn't mind being ordered around in that swotty tone of yours."

She narrowed her eyes, but was immediately distracted by kisses traveling against her jaw and throat.

His hands were at her hips, and she wished for them to wander.

You're in control.

She leaned back slightly. "I want your hands to touch me."

"They are touching you," he said, his smile angelic. She wasn't so fooled. His hands slowly slid up her ribs. "Here?"

She shook her head, her face surely tomato red.

He continued slowly further up until he brushed the underside of her breasts and her breathing hitched.

"Here?" he said softly, teasing with barely there touches.

"I - I want -" she took a breath, having never had so much of a say in her pleasure before. She growled under her breath, frustrated.

Malfoy's expression was contemplative, his eyes searching her's as he continued to tease the underside of her breasts.

"Let's create a safe word."

"A safe word?" she repeated, her brows furrowing.

He nodded. "If you are ever uncomfortable, say the safe word and I will immediately stop whatever I'm doing."

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, processing. 

"I want this to be good for you, Granger," he said quietly, his hands moving to cup her face, his cool hands feeling pleasant against her burning blush. "You are in control."

You are in control.

Not once has she ever felt in control with Ron.

"Red," she finally said, taking a deep breath, her jaw clenched in determination. "My safe word is red."

"Good girl," he murmured gently against her lips.

His lips swallowed her quiet gasp, surprised at how much pleasure suddenly coursed through her at the praise.

As their kiss deepened and became more heated with tongue and nips, his hands were back on her hips, slowly sliding up to her ribs.

They continued up until he was fully cupping her breasts, his thumbs making light sweeps against her nipples through her swimming costume.

She broke the kiss with a moan, her hands gripping his biceps as he teased her.

Her breathing quickened when he slowly slid the wet material down from her shoulders, his eyes carefully watching her's, exposing her breasts to the cool air.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his gaze studying how her nipples hardened at his touch.

Despite being in the water, she could feel herself growing wet between her legs, and her thighs squeezed together at the feeling.

The way his stormy eyes darkened when they flashed to her's... she knew he knew.

With one hand continuing to tease her nipple, the other slid down her stomach and past her navel.

Her breathing stuttered as his hand was now cupping her cunt, his thumb circling against her clit. 

"What's the safe word?" he whispered into her ear, his movement now still.

"Red," she said, her voice strained.

She could feel his smile against her ear. "Good girl."

A whimper slipped past her lips and his smile widened before nipping her ear.

"Can I feel your cunt, Granger?" he whispered, his thumb making slow circles over her clit.

Her grip tightened around his biceps as she shyly nodded.

"One day I'll have you ordering me what to do," he said, his voice low.

Before she could think of a response, her gently moved her costume to the side so he could feel her with one lithe finger. His breathing grew heavier as he felt how wet she was and his low moan reverberating in his chest had her hips suddenly bucking against his hand.

Painfully slow, he added a second finger into her cunt but the way her moan reverberated loudly in the room, she had quickly covered her mouth with both hands.

Malfoy tutted, releasing her nipple to pull her hands away from her mouth.

"I want to hear everything," he whispered, his fingers twisting in her cunt while his thumb continued its ministrations on her clit.

She whimpered, feeling herself clench around his fingers, and with shaky hands directed his free hand back to her breasts.

He pinched her nipples, experimenting with the pressure and how her cunt fluttered around him. "Do you like that? What about..."

Malfoy's head ducked and now his mouth was around her other nipple, licking and sucking.

"Malfoy! I - ah!" The combination of pinching, sucking, twisting, and circling was too much.

She thought people were exaggerating in describing an orgasm like fireworks, but that's exactly what was happening. She could practically feel the neurons in her brain signaling the wave of pleasure to implode. The pressure and tension in her lower belly reaching its peak before breaking.

Perhaps seconds or minutes passed before she came back down to reality, not even realizing Malfoy was whispering in her ear.

"Good girl, sweetheart... you did so well... I'm so proud of you..."

His voice was low and husky, countering the sweet words he was crooning.

"Your turn?" she asked, breathing heavily, feeling apprehensive on where to go from here. She wasn't used to being pleasured first.

Malfoy raised a brow. "I'm not done with you."

His lips went back to her neck, teeth now lightly nipping at her skin before circling back to her ear. "Can I taste you?"

"T-taste me?" she repeated, her eyes widening.

He pulled away to search her eyes seriously, perhaps waiting to see if this would be a safe word situation.

"I want to taste your cunt, if that's okay."

He gave her an impish smile - dare she even call it adorable but didn't want to ruin the mood - as he waited for her reply.

She wanted this, Merlin she did, but -

"He said I didn't taste good," she mumbled, looking down, embarrassed.

The look of disgust on Ron's face always stuck with her through the years. Malfoy deserved to have fair warning.

He was quiet for a full second before tilting her chin up to look at him. His eyes were bright and so bloody beautiful.

"Please?"

She swallowed hard, anxious for the possibility of him rejecting her.

She could do this. She wanted to do this.

"Okay," she whispered with a nod, wondering if they'd be moving out of the pool or -

His smirk could only be described as utterly sinful when he suddenly went under the surface, wrapped her thighs around his neck, and buried his face into her cunt.

Hermione gaped down at his pale blonde hair floating in the water under the surface. This couldn't be real, what -

She yelled out, her thighs squeezing him tighter and fingers pulling his hair when he sucked down hard on her clit. Despite the absolute insanity that was happening, she could still feel that damn smirk.

Her mind was warring between the pleasure between her legs and the anxiety of drowning Malfoy.

Malfoy heir has been proclaimed dead from underwater cunnilingus.

He finally came up for air, but she let out a light scream while still being wrapped around his neck when he suddenly lifted her above the surface. His hands were on her arse to help her balance, and she looked down to see him already looking up at her with a blinding grin prompting a terrible blush.

He lifted her to the edge of the pool where she could sit with only her calves submerged in the water. Before she could ask if she tasted okay, he had moved her costume to the side and was lapping at her clit again, his tongue making the occasional long sweep between her folds.

Hermione moaned, her hands gripping the edge of the pool while moving her hips into his face, the sucking and licking sounding obscene in the silence of the room.

She felt and heard him moan into her cunt which prompted her to shakily reach for her own breasts to pinch her nipples.

She heard him hum in approval, and glanced down to watch. She wondered if she looked like a gaping fish, which wasn't sexy in the slightest, but before she could feel self-conscious on her facial expressions, he'd inserted a finger without pausing or taking his mouth away.

Pinching her nipples harder, hips thrusting against his face desperately, she reached her peak and came crashing into her orgasm with a shout.

She could feel Malfoy's arms had shifted to be around her hips in case she fell, but her focus was on the implosion behind her eyelids and the pleasurable release between her legs.

He hadn't stopped, adding a second finger while lapping at her juices, and soon she rolled into another wave of pleasure.

The feeling was beginning to be too much and she pulled at his hair so she could breathe.

He immediately pulled away with a satisfied grin, pulling her gently back into the water with him. Her limbs felt like jello, but Malfoy simply wrapped her legs around his waist while she nuzzled her face into his neck and held him.

She hung onto him tightly, feeling him climb up the ladder and out of the pool. Belatedly, she realized how her uncovered breasts were pushing into his chest and found her lower belly churning at the contact.

"You taste divine by the way," Malfoy said casually, a smile in his voice.

Embarrassed, she burrowed her face into his neck. 

"Are we done? What about you?" she suddenly rambled, feeling a warm towel being draped around her back.

"Do you want to be done?" he countered, amusement in his tone.

She shook her head.

"Granger, look at me."

Chewing on her bottom lip anxiously, she did and saw how serious his expression had suddenly shifted. The longer she stared, the more of a blush she could curiously see rising in his face.

"Can I... make love to you?"

Surely she was having a heart attack. There was no other explanation for the way her heart tripled in pace and wanted to explode. Or why she felt turned on but also wanted to cry.

He didn't say fuck... he said make love...

"I don't know what that's like," she finally said quietly, looking down at his lips instead of his eyes.

"I don't either," he said just as quiet, and her eyes flashed to his. "But I'd like to find out with you," he finished, leaning so his forehead was touching her's.

She couldn't blame the pool for the tears falling past her cheeks. Something between an embarrassed laugh and snort escaped as she leaned back to wipe away the tears. "Sorry, I can only imagine how I'm ruining -"

He abruptly lowered her farther down his hips with a mischievous smirk and she gasped at his cock being pressed against her cunt.

"Not here?" she clarified, and he shook his head.

"I fancy a cuddle after making love," he said and she could only gape at him again like a fish.

Malfoy winked at her before he disapparated them into her suite.

Chapter Text

Hermione didn't want to wake up, her mind continuously replaying last night.

The way he gently laid her down across her bedspread, his weight pressing down on her as they kissed. Her body arching up into his and their breathing loud and heavy in the room.

How he vanished her swimming costume and looked down at her as if she was a goddess before kissing up her leg, paying special attention to her thighs, cunt, and breasts as he continued teasing up her body.

When she finally got to see all of him when he vanished his shorts and couldn't help but reach out to feel the weight of his large cock in her grip.

His moan, low and obscene.

His cock finally entering her after she begged, the sharp pinch quickly disappearing into pleasure as he whispered sweet praise into her ear.

Discovering the difference between fucking and making love.

His eyes never strayed from her's while his cock slowly went in an out of her cunt, as if savoring the feeling.

She was able to truly see every shade of silver in his eyes, memorize the curve of his nose, and angle of his jaw. Study the shape of his lips and how they moved to chant her name in hoarse whispers. Her first name.

Malfoy kissing away her tears when the intensity of everything became too much and she came. Him following soon after and immediately cuddling her to his chest, arms wrapped protectively around her.

This was happiness, wasn't it? How else could she describe a night full of laughter, kisses, dancing, and... making love.

Sex wasn't an adequate word to describe last night.

"I know you're awake."

His low whisper tickled her ear, warm breath causing a shiver through her body.

Malfoy's arm was wrapped around her waist, spooning her from behind. She could feel his arousal pressing into her back and her face flushed at the realization.

"Do you remember how to make polyjuice potion?"

What?

She tried to turn but his grip was firm around her waist, his chin resting on top of her head.

"Yes?"

"Hmm... name the ingredients for me."

She had no clue where this was leading, her mind flitting to the page of text in question.

The first ingredient was at the tip of her tongue but she stopped as his hand ventured to the front of her pajama bottoms.

"Safe word?'

"Red," she whispered, her mind seemingly short circuiting.

"Good girl," he murmured, and she had to bite back a whimper. "First ingredient of polyjuice potion."

"Lacewing flies?' she questioned, her mind and body confused.

"Correct," he said, his hand now slowly going under the elastic, his finger hovering over her clit.

Her hips shifted to make contact but his legs wrapped around her's so she was unable to move, trapped against his body.

"Keep going."

"Leaches."

Malfoy hummed, his fingertip making slow circles against her clit. He stopped after a few seconds.

"Fluxweed... kn-knotgrass."

His large hand now cupped her cunt, his palm circling against her clit while one finger entered her.

She moaned, writhing in his arms, but he continued to hold her still.

"Boomsl-slang skin."

Malfoy added another finger, his lips at her neck.

"Keep going, you're doing so well."

His voice sounded winded and strained, but he nipped at her skin when she didn't immediately answer.

"Horn of bicorn and-and a person's hair."

"Excellent work," he murmured against her neck, his lips now sucking at the delicate skin to leave purposeful bruises.

His fingers moved faster, his lips continuing to suck, and his other hand was now under her shirt and pinching her nipple.

"Come for me."

"God!"

"It's Draco, actually."

She was already riding out her explosion of fireworks otherwise she would've kicked him, the absolute tosser.

He just got her off on polyjuice potion ingredients. She wouldn't be able to look at lacewing flies the same way ever again.

"Ahem."

They both froze before Malfoy quickly covered them both with the comforter.

All four house elves were looking at them with varying degrees of excitement and curiousity at the end of her bed.

Two trays of food were hovering nearby.

"Matilda thought Master and Mistress would like breakfast in bed," Matilda squeaked, looking proud of her thoughtfulness.

It took her a second to catch that she said mistress.

"Miss Hermione and I would like some privacy, thank you."

"Of course," said Frog, looking exasperated in being dragged here to bear witness.

"Miss Hermione enjoy her date?" Pip asked sweetly.

She didn't know if she wanted to laugh or hide, feeling her release so fresh between her legs.

"It-it was lovely, Pip, thank you."

Pip frowned, unconvinced, looking suspiciously past her at Malfoy as if he did something wrong.

"Pip thinks Master should have given Miss Hermione a foot rub like Pip suggested," he squeaked, still looking disapproving.

Malfoy groaned into her back while she tried not to laugh.

"I'll make sure he does after breakfast," she reasoned, biting the inside of her cheek. She heard Malfoy snort quietly behind her.

Well now he definitely is.

Pip nodded, eyes narrowing in what he probably thought was a threatening manner.

"Thank you for bringing breakfast," she said after a pause when they still hadn't left. "We'll chat later, yes?"

Pip and Matilda nodded exuberantly while Frog and Tutu shuffled awkwardly.

They eventually vanished, and she elbowed Malfoy none too gently when he mumbled about cutting their pay.

"That really hurt, Won-Won," Lavendar sniffled, tenderly touching her neck.

Ron frowned at her, feeling little satisfaction at the bruises beginning to appear.

He finished putting on his robes for work, becoming quickly frustrated with his tie.

"Lav," he barked, turning to her coldly. "Fix this."

She slowly crawled out of bed with a wince, grabbing her wand.

Lavendar quietly fixed his tie, but this wasn't her area of expertise and she fumbled with the technique.

Ron snorted with disgust, pushing her away. "Hermione always did this perfectly," he grumbled, thoroughly annoyed.

He could tell Lavendar appeared hurt by this, but he ignored her as he tied his boots.

Harry's stag patronus suddenly materialized and he eyed it suspiciously.

Take some time off, Ron. You're not needed in the office. See you Sunday.

Ron's ears turned scarlet, fuming at his friend's orders. There was also a significant edge to Harry's voice as if his fury was just hidden under the surface.

Was he in contact with her? Was she spouting her little lies about him?

Jaw clenched, Ron stormed from the room to disapparate back to his flat - choosing to ignore the quiet sigh of relief behind him. He could punish her later.

When he arrived, he unlocked the trunk holding some of Hermione's most prized possessions.

A childhood stuffie of a bear, a collage of pictures of her parents, her wand, favorite Muggle books, and - yes.

He grabbed her beaded bag and his arm disappeared inside, searching.

Ron smirked a few minutes later, pulling out Harry's invisibility cloak.

He'd nicked it earlier this week having lunch with Ginny, telling her that Harry needed it for top-secret mission.

He was going to find out what the hell was going on.

Everyone thought he was an idiot, didn't they? Didn't think he paid attention?

Harry inconspicuously hid his confidential documents behind the portrait of his parents sitting innocently at his desk.

Harry scheduled all of his missions around noon so he could have lunch with his fiancé.

Ron knew.

Ron watched.

He was figuring this shit out today.

When he returned back to his flat around midnight, a crumpled piece of parchment in his grasp, he paced.

And paced.

And planned.

Eventually he collapsed on their lumpy couch, exhausted but pleased.

Merlin, he missed her.

He was soul-bonding them as soon as he got his hands on her.

She could run, he mused, staring out into the night sky. But she can't hide.

Chapter Text

The next few days couldn't be real, Hermione was convinced she was dreaming.

Her and Malfoy acted like hormonal teenagers throughout the Manor.

The library.

The gardens.

The staircase.

But strangely, never his bedroom.

Ron's voice had been silent from her mind, which was also strange, but Hermione didn't want to think about him. She was content in reading, conversing, swimming, and kissing with the beautiful wizard of the Manor.

It wasn't until she received a letter from Harry that she was abruptly grounded back to reality.

Hermione,

The memories are verified.

Let's meet outside your parent's place in Hampstead.

Please. We miss you.

-Harry

Reality wasn't as nice as fantasy.

But she deserved to no longer live in fear.

She wasn't healed, but she was building strength and becoming more sure of who she is.

Hermione enjoyed morning coffee and afternoon tea. She missed researching and felt a thrill in discovering new information. Her area of interests were currently magical law and transfiguration. She liked to sing in the shower and hum in the gardens.

She liked to wear dresses that hugged her figure and walk barefoot. Her new favorite place to have sex was in the library and she felt incredibly safe to let go when he held her hands tightly above her head.

She was definitely in love with Draco Malfoy, and she was ready to bring Ronald Weasley to justice.

Merlin, she's in love with Draco Malfoy.

This was not the best time to come to this realization and receive Harry's letter.

The full moon was tonight but this conversation couldn't wait.

"Malfoy, we need to talk."

She swallowed harshly at the dining table - their attempt at normalcy. His complexion was peaky at best. He looked incredibly pale with dark shadows underneath his eyes.

Somehow his symptoms only started worsening today when it usually effected him throughout the week.

"About?" Malfoy said quietly, his expression impassive as he leaned back in his chair.

"You know I've been building a case against R-Ron," she said, hopeful that her voice sounded much more confident than she felt. "And I sent Harry memories as evidence weeks ago to be verified."

Malfoy was quiet, spinning his signet ring, looking down.

"Harry owled me today confirming they've been verified and wants to meet."

His movement stilled but he didn't look up.

"I was wondering if you would come with me," she said, her voice beginning to tremble. "To... to have your support."

He looked at her sharply where she sat next to him, wringing a napkin between her hands anxiously.

"Do you realize what you're asking of me?" Malfoy whispered, his hands clenching the arms of his chair. "To leave?"

"I know," she whispered back. "But I can't stay here forever and was hoping-"

"And why not?" he interjected harshly, scowling at his plate full of untouched food. "Why can't you stay? You're safe here."

"I have friends," she argued, becoming frustrated. "A career, a... a life. And I should live without being afraid of my ex-fiancé. And... and I want to live that life... with you."

She shook her head, holding back tears. "But I can't continue to hide. I can't run away."

"You think we'll be accepted, Granger?" Malfoy sneered, his eyes cold. "You think Saint Potter and the world will be happy you're with me? A Death Eater? A werewolf? There isn't a life for us outside the manor."

Hermione stood up, suddenly angry. "How can you say that? And I don't care what they think! You are good, Malfoy," She took a deep steadying breath. "You're scared to leave and I understand -"

"No you bloody don't!" Malfoy shouted, breathing heavily and getting to his feet. "I'm lesser than! Barely considered human!"

"I'm a mudblood," she said coldly, and Malfoy stepped back with a flinch, his sudden anger quickly deflating. "Of course I know what it's like to be considered less than."

She looked down at her arm, touching her otter tattoo so it would swim around her arm.

"So that's it then," she said quietly, still watching the otter.

"I support you," said Malfoy, sounding hoarse, and her eyes flashed to his with a sliver of hope. "But once you leave, I - there's nothing out there for me. You're asking me rejoin the Wizarding world and I can't."

She looked down in defeat and soon heard his footsteps getting closer until she could see his sleek black shoes.

He tilted her chin up, his eyes pleading. "Don't go."

"Come with me then," she whispered. "I don't want to face him alone."

His jaw clenched. "You have Potter."

"But I want you."

"I'll send Theo and Blaise."

"None of those wizards are you, Malfoy." She held his face in her hands, desperate. "I can do this without you but I don't want to."

He shook his head, his expression pained, and her hands fell limply to her sides.

"I'm selfish, Granger," he said quietly, his tone bitter. "You deserve someone who isn't a monster."

"Malfoy -"

"You haven't been able to apparate, have you?"

She blinked, confused. "I tried only once about month ago, but I thought it was just a precaution..."

Malfoy snorted, unamused. "I have anti-apparition wards around the manor." He looked up at her, jaw clenched. "You've been my prisoner, Granger."

Hermione hugged herself, stepping back and looking away from his piercing gaze.

He'd told her to leave, but when she tried, she ended up back in her suite.

She was furious. Not solely with his actions but how he was attempting to scare her off. She knew what fear was and it wasn't Draco Malfoy. Not to her.

"What you have done is not okay, but we will talk about this more when I come back."

"Come back?"

Her hands were now at her hips, her expression twisting into a scowl at his blank expression.

"Yes. We're going to talk about this like adults but I need to go meet with Harry. You're going to lift the wards and allow me access."

Malfoy's lips twitched before slowly approaching her again, fingers playing with the emerald necklace she'd yet to take off. He especially liked it when that was all she was wearing.

She fought back a shiver.

"You'll be back?"

He looked and sounded doubtful, and she narrowed her eyes. "Yes."

"Don't take this off."

"Fine."

Malfoy's hand wrapped around the back of her neck so their foreheads rested against one another, nudging her nose.

"When are you leaving?"

"If it's just me, then I'll leave tonight."

He exhaled deeply but didn't move away. "You'll be safe from me then."

She didn't comment, but wrapped her arms around his waist.

He sighed again and pulled away to kiss her forehead, his eyes now looking into her's. "Owl me if you'll be away for more than a night so I know you're safe or..." His jaw clenched. "Or if you decide not to return."

"Malfoy -"

He kissed her, hands cupping her face like she had done with him.

She sighed softly into the kiss and smiled when he pulled away to kiss her nose.

His eyes seemed pained when he stepped away but a familiar mask quickly hid his emotions from her. "I'll lift the wards. I'll... hear from you soon."

"Okay," she whispered, and he gave her a curt nod before leaving in the direction of the west wing.

Chapter Text

Self-loathing.

The loathing of oneself: self-hatred.

How Draco Malfoy viewed himself every waking hour before Hermione Granger entered his life.

When Granger left, the thoughts returned in full force.

Draco looked around his bedroom, broken mirrors and torn furniture scattered in his wake.

He couldn't bring himself to repair the damage over the years, the state being an adequate representation on how he felt inside.

Tracing his scar, he looked at his distorted self in a shard of glass. His pureblood looks, looks of a Malfoy, was something he grew up being proud of. Something of value.

The terrifying encounter when Granger broke his nose in third year, his main concern was the ruining of his face. Who would want him with a crooked nose?

His second concern were the naughty thoughts about an angry Gryffindor Princess afterwards but these thoughts were immediately squashed after the Dark Lord returned.

A muscle in his hand twitched, the glass slicing into flesh before falling to the floor.

The spasms always started an hour before he shifted into a beast.

His monster.

Preferring to heal the Muggle way, he tore a piece of fabric from his bedsheets and wrapped his hand.

After the war and his year-long stint in Azkaban, all Draco had were his looks. His name was tarnished, values destroyed, his inheritance became blood money... but after Greyback, that too was taken. He was raised to be vain, to be proud of how he dressed and presented himself. And though he pretended he didn't care about the marks, he still struggled seeing them reflect back at him.

"Oi fuck face."

Malfoy snorted, exiting his bedroom to see Blaise and Theo in the hall. 

Blaise looked like shit, but they both did before shifting.

"What are you doing here?"

Theo's brows furrowed. "I thought Granger was having a sleepover with me."

His chest ached. Fuck, he missed her. There was still no owl or letter telling him she was safe or... or saying goodbye.

"She's with Potter," he said quietly, ignoring the worried glance his friends exchanged. "Her memories were verified and they're filing charges against the bastard."

"That's good then, isn't it?" said Theo, his voice hesitant.

Malfoy gave a stiff nod, walking past them towards the drawing room.

He knew they were following but didn't bother making small talk when he reached the fireplace in the room, the smell of death permeating the air.

A twinge of apprehension was felt before he took off his ring and placed it carefully in a dish on the mantle.

"You should leave, Theo," Malfoy said quietly.

The wizard was leaning against the wall with a frown while Blaise was slowly taking his clothes off, folding them with careful precision.

"She asked you to come with."

In a blink, he threw a dislodged brick at his friend's head, missing him by centimeters.

"She'll come back, Draco," Theo continued, unperturbed.

Malfoy scowled.

"I'm friendly with Lovegood in the DMLE," said Theo, used to the mood swings and inanimate objects being thrown. "I'll see what she knows."

"Looney Lovegood in the DMLE?" Blaise questioned, sitting comfortably stark naked on the destroyed couch.

Theo shrugged. "She catalogs evidence as a side gig. And is trying to get into the department head's pants before resigning and taking a holiday to America."

"Er - good for her, I guess," Draco mumbled at the sudden intimate details of Luna Lovegood, beginning to take his clothes off while Blaise coughed loudly.

Theo shrugged, half-way out the door. "I'll stop by in the morning. Break a leg."

He blew a kiss to them both to which Malfoy only rolled his eyes at, placing his folded clothes next to Blaise's and hearing the click of the door closing.

Blaise and Draco remained silent, the muscle spasms becoming more extreme as minutes passed.

"Fuck, I hate this part," Blaise mumbled, now on his back and uncaring of the floor being filthy.

Draco silently agreed, keeping his focus on not vomiting as he crawled away to get some distance for shifting.

The next five minutes was filled with agonizing moans of pain and the snapping of bones. Their bones moving into place were like nails on a chalkboard while fur replaced flesh and nails became claws.

When the transformation finished, their heavy guttural breathing was all that could be heard.

Blinking with his new enhanced sight, his focused shifted to the black wolf shakily attempting to keep balance on his four paws.

Draco growled, and the wolf's head lazily turned to look at him.

Blaise. That's Blaise.

He heavily sighed, relieved to still be in his right mind and in control.

Well, sort of.

He was angry with himself which wasn't an ideal headspace as a werewolf he'd discovered.

Blaise cautiously wandered over and laid next to him with a low whine.

Control was about balance. The control shifted too far to the wolf and his self-loathing manifested into destruction.

Such as what happened last month.

Except now, she was actually gone.

Would she tell Potter about him? Or would he be her dirty little secret?

Blaise growled next to him, his snout poking him in the throat.

Draco blinked sluggishly, realizing there was a sharp pain coming from his ear. He'd scratched himself. Damn.

Control. Control. Control.

How to have control when there is none?

He failed her for being a coward.

He failed her by not leaving the manor, failed her by not telling her how truly mad he is for her.

Failure, failure, failure.

All that Malfoy's were good for.

Blaise shoved him roughly as blood dripped into his eye.

Right. Control.

He closed his eyes, focusing on how Granger looked as she read, how her eyes brightened at something of interest and her lips parted ever so slightly.

How she had the same expression when underneath him, the emerald gleaming between her breasts.

She didn't know the emerald was of the equivalency to asking for her hand in marriage from a Malfoy.

But even if she didn't return to him, he didn't regret gifting the necklace to her.

She was safe, physically.

He growled, abruptly getting up to pace the room, ignoring how Blaise's eyes carefully followed.

He couldn't kill Dumbledore or any other witch or wizard Bellatrix forced him to deal with, and Greyback had been an accident... but there was no doubt in his mind he could kill Ronald Weasley.

By wand or hand, he wasn't picky.

Draco could still picture her broken body when she appeared at his doorstep. The bruises and human bitemarks he had healed along with her splinched arms.

Blaise whined loudly, making him flinch.

Draco was limping now.

He never knew he was punishing himself so severely until Blaise started joining him.

Granger telling him in a broken voice after handling Bogart Weasley why he was her fear. Her controlling and abusive relationship... fuck, he could kill him. He could leave the manor, hunt him down... Granger wouldn't have to put herself through an invasive trial and-

Another annoyingly high-pitched whine from the black wolf had him laying down with a huff.

Control, control, control...

He pictured the previous night filled with laughter and content sighs as they sat in the library, their decorated tree filled with red and green baubles standing proudly nearby.

Draco's night continued with warring thoughts and Blaise's reminders.

Greyback murdering his parents.

Dancing with Granger.

His mother's screams.

Swimming with Granger.

Back and forth, the good and the painful.

When dawn broke, the muscle spasms returned and their pitiful animalistic whining soon turned into human groans.

Draco didn't move, now feeling every painful injury he created throughout the night.

He could hear Blaise cursing as he clumsily left the room to gather their wands.

The self-hatred now simmered instead of boiled like it had done last night. He hated not feeling in control of his thoughts and impulses, how the darkest of thoughts always came without fault during the full moon. His own mind rejecting him for becoming a thing of nightmares.

"You bloody stupid fuck -"

His eyes shifted back to the angry naked wizard returning with their wands.

"Blaise-"

"Shut it."

Draco grimaced, watching as Blaise murmured rudimentary healing spells to his face, chest, and leg.

Ten minutes later and Blaise stepped away without a word, gathering his clothes.

Exhausted, he fell asleep there along the dust and filth.

A few hours later, he rose to shower and be presentable, eventually making his way to the dining room where a simple breakfast waited for him.

And a disapproving Theo.

"Fucking hell, Draco," Theo muttered with a frown, protectively holding a weary Blaise on his lap and against his chest.

Theo then slid a draught of peace and pain relieving potion towards him.

Draco grunted in response, noticing there was no post waiting for him at the table as he drank.

Granger hadn't owled him, but at least he could now think logically. There was still time.

"Contact Lovegood?" yawned Blaise, helping himself to some eggs.

Draco looked up from his empty plate when there was no response.

Theo was looking perplexed, fidgeting with his napkin like Granger often did.

"She... Granger's memories. She only finished verifying them late last night. Hadn't even told Potter yet.  I've never seen Lovegood look so -"

He wasn't listening anymore, frozen in place.

Granger wouldn't have lied to get away, would she? No, she wanted him to come with...

"FUCK!"

Draco stormed murderously from the table and towards the fireplace, grabbing a handful of floo powder from the mantle. There was only a second of hesitation before he threw the powder and stepped into the green flames.

"Ministry of Magic."

Chapter Text

When Malfoy appeared out of the flames and into the bustling atrium of the Ministry, he kept his focus on his goal.

Harry fucking Potter.

And when a Ministry witch actually screamed upon seeing his face, he didn't flinch.

As witches and wizards gaped or scurried away, his stride didn't break upon approaching the security desk to weigh his wand.

He would prefer to storm Potter's office without the formalities but didn't think he'd make it very far.

The loud silence in the atrium was only broken by muttering expletives from the familiar voices of Blaise and Theo behind him.

He smiled slightly in knowing they followed and probably thought him mad, but his smile only made the wizard behind the desk pale further.

"R-reason for - for -"

"Appointment with Head Auror Potter," he said coldly, snatching his wand back.

"Do-Do you have-"

Draco rolled his eyes, taking his strip of parchmant from the trembling man and making his way to the golden gates of the lift.

The whispers now began in a frenzy and he knew Potter would be informed of having a visitor by the time he reached the Auror Department.

"Draco Malfoy -"

"His face -"

"Murderer-"

"Death Eater-"

Draco firmly kept his sights on the lift, not bothering to wait for Theo and Blaise when he stepped in.

When the gates closed and the lift took off, he could finally breathe.

The noises, the smells - everything was so bloody heightened. He wasn't sure if it was from time as a recluse or being a werewolf.

Right now, his discomfort wasn't important. Granger was with him.

The necklace would buy them both time but the bastard could still use magic to trap or hurt her. He personally always thought Weasley to be an utter idiot, but the fear encapsulating Granger all these years made him wonder if his assumption wasn't entirely accurate.

His entire body ached from last night and his mind felt fractured with panic. Granger was his golden girl, though he knew she hated the moniker. She was his sun in this fucked up world.

No one stopped the lift on his way to the Auror Department so he knew the Ministry was aware of his presence.

When the lift opened, ten Aurors with their wands drawn greeted him and he had to bury the temptation to blast through them.

"My, my, what a charming welcome committee," he drawled, a brow raised. "Scared of the big bad wolf?"

He grinned, baring his teeth, and many of the younger Aurors looked ready to faint.

"Bloody hell, stand down."

Potter forced his way to the front, looking annoyed. "Put your wands away."

"Potter, he's a werew-"

"No shit," said Potter dryly. "So was my godson's father."

The older Aurors were still wary, their wands still raised.

"A Death Eater arriving unannounced-"

Potter eyed them sternly. "Am I Head Auror or not? Put your wands away and let me handle this."

They grimaced, slowly doing as they were told.

Malfoy yawned, earning him several reproachful looks. "Are we done? I'm knackered after a night of pillaging villages."

Potter rolled his eyes. "This way, Malfoy."

He smirked over at the disappointed Aurors, winking at one in particular who was turning puce, and followed after the slightly shorter wizard approaching his office.

Malfoy dropped the bravado once inside, exhausted, yet he paced the small room while Potter leaned back on his desk, wary.

"I don't fucking care if you believe me or not, but Granger is in danger."

Potter's eyes narrowed, crossing his arms. "What do you know about Hermione?"

"That fucking psychotic ex has her," he said harshly, disliking how small the office was for pacing. "Granger thought she was meeting with you but Lovegood only verified the memories last night so that doesn't make any bloody sense -"

Potter looked at him in disbelief. "How -"

"There isn't time," he snapped, running his hands through his hair roughly. "Weasley fucking has her."

An odd expression came over Potter's face, walking over to behind his desk.

He reached for a frame with two people ice skating though at first glance they seemed like Potter and his wife, but not quite.

Potter pulled out a few documents from the frame and his brows furrowed before searching in a drawer to his left.

"Odd," Potter said quietly, glancing to the coat rack in the corner of the room. "I thought I'd been imagining things but one's missing..."

Potter now looked a bit ill.

"Granger has been staying with me," he said impatiently. "She left last night saying you finished verifying the memories. Did you owl her yesterday, yes or no?"

"No," Potter said quietly, his face paling rapidly.

A grizzly bear patronus barreled into the room. "There's another bloody werewolf demanding to see you, Potter."

"Blaise," Malfoy muttered, fighting another yawn, wondering if Potter could spare him a pepper-up potion.

His energy was quickly fading, anger and fear would only get him so far.

Potter walked past him, and stuck his head outside his office. "Let them through."

Malfoy sighed, collapsing into a chair with his hands covering his face.

"You bloody impulsive -"

Malfoy waved his hand dismissively, not bothering to look up.

"Well, Potter? Where's Granger?" demanded Theo.

"How the hell do you all -"

"Shit, that's why he - shit -"

"He must have her," Blaise concluded quietly.

"Just hold on a minute," said Potter, and Malfoy glanced up to see the wizard looking almost panicked. "You're saying -"

"Yes," Malfoy scowled, his hands beginning to tremble. "Are you going to help us or not?"

"I'll check their flat first," Potter said without missing a beat, turning to his floo.

"We're coming with," he argued, aware of how Potter saying their flat made his stomach churn.

Potter looked ready to argue but one look at the three angry wizards in his office and he thought better of it.

"Fine."

Harry's nose immediately wrinkled at the smell upon entering his friends' flat.

Liquor bottles were scattered everywhere and flies were buzzing over empty food containers.

With his wand raised, he casted a quick charm only to be disappointed in discovering no one was home.

He suspected something in his office was... off... over a week ago when he got back from a mission in Cardiff. His office felt violated in some way but there hadn't been any proof. No one saw anything, but Hermione's last letter was missing and the only explanation was someone snuck in and stole it. Someone with motive and access... like Ron.

Harry grimaced and, seeing the state of the kitchen was no better, continued on, ignoring his three unwanted companions.

He had nothing against them, not really. But there was no denying that all three were intimately aware of Hermione's absence and seemed to know more than he.

He hadn't seen Malfoy since Ron botched the mission at Malfoy Manor. Harry had been in St. Mungos with Ginny after a Quidditch accident when he recieved word on how badly they fucked up in catching Greyback.

Harry had to pull some strings with Kingsley in order to keep Malfoy out of Azkaban and for Ron to keep his job.

"Potter."

He turned to see Malfoy frowning at a chest in a closet, and tried not to stare at the scars across his face. Harry blamed himself of course, putting Ron in charge while he was gone. Ron was brilliant with coordinating missions where stealth was needed, but he'd underestimated how little Ron truly cared for the Malfoy's.

Knowing what Greyback did to witches and wizards while their children watched would always haunt him.

Walking over and unlocking the chest, Harry saw Hermione's personal belongings, but most alarming was seeing her wand.

"She said he kept her wand locked up," Malfoy muttered.

"Why would she tell you?" asked Harry, frustrated.

He still found it difficult to believe that all this time, Hermione had been hiding in Malfoy Manor. Admittedly, no one would think to look there, but why would she give Malfoy the time of day? Why didn't she tell him?

Malfoy grimaced. "You wouldn't believe me."

Harry crossed his arms with a scowl. "Try me."

"We - I'm..." Malfoy swallowed loudly, looking twitchy. "We spent a lot of time together," he said, not quite making eye contact. "Grew close."

Harry huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Fine, don't tell me."

"I love her, is that what you fucking wanted to hear?" Malfoy snarled, taking a step towards him only to be held back by Zabini. "She ended up splinched on my doorstep bloody and unconscious three months ago trying to get away from him."

Malfoy pushed Zabini aside, and Harry stood tall with his shoulders back when he was furiously approached.

"If you don't find the Weasel before I do, Potter, I'll kill him."

Harry didn't doubt this and was tempted to take a step back.

There was no prejudice against werewolves, but Malfoy truly looked like he was about to rip Harry's head off and mount it on a wall.

"Okay," said Nott loudly, a hand now on Malfoy's shoulder. "Let's figure out where they could be first."

Harry took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

He wasn't blind. Malfoy obviously... cared, though he wasn't sure how much of that was reciprocated. His questions could wait for now.

Pushing his glasses back on, he looked around the filthy flat, hoping something would stand out as a clue.

Where would Ron go?

If Ron was hiding her, then he needed privacy and space.

"They were going to get married, right?" Malfoy questioned curtly, also looking around the flat.

"Yeah," said Harry, feeling nauseous at the thought.

"What were their plans afterward?"

Their honeymoon.

Harry drummed his fingers on his thigh, trying to remember.

"Hermione wanted Paris, but Ron insisted on Shells Cottage."

"Let's go then," said Zabini, already making his way back to the floo.

"It's not that simple," he said with a frown. "It's under the Fidelius charm and Ron's brother, Bill, who is secret keeper, is in Romania."

"Always wanted to visit," Nott commented, voice falsely bright.

"We need to get permission and -"

Malfoy eyed him murderously, magic visibly crackling at his fingertips. "Either I make an illegal portkey or you do, Potter. Which is it?"

Chapter Text

Hermione groaned at a sharp pain pounding like a drum at the back of her head as she burrowed her face into a pillow. The scent of the ocean quickly brought her back to her senses, though this did nothing for the pain.

She was at Shell's Cottage.

Upon apparating to her parents, she was immediately stupified, though she had the satisfaction of knowing Ron had painfully splinched himself when bringing her here.

He had immediately grabbed her in side-along apparition but the protection spells from her necklace nearly took his arm off in the process. To Ron's credit, he didn't make the same mistake twice, but did have her magically tied to a bed as he healed through the night.

Trapping her to the bed so she laid flat on her belly had her feeling immensely vulnerable, and her arms and legs ached from being pulled to the four bedposts.

Weight shifting next to her on the bed made her freeze.

"Hermione," sang a horribly familiar voice. "Time to wake up."

His voice did terrible things to her mind, the fear equivalent to pouring a bucket of ice water over her head. Her skin crawled and felt itchy though she knew he couldn't physically touch her.

The more time conversing meant less time for him to wisen up and realize he could do a lot of damage magically.

Ignoring the way her heart raced as if the beats were now numbered, she opened her eyes. Her head could only turn so much and her eyes flashed up to the baby blue often haunting her dreams.

She missed silver. She missed Malfoy.

God, would he think she abandoned him? The thought caused her vision to blur with tears, but Ron only smiled.

Hermione blinked them away, focusing on Ron's appearence. He wasn't wearing a shirt and could see his entire arm closest to her was heavily bandaged.

His eyes narrowed and the smile turned into a grimace when he noticed where her attention shifted.

"The necklace is new," he said, his fingers drumming the empty space between them.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"Will you take it off, please?"

The kindness in his voice had her trembling. "No."

Ron frowned and scratched his cheek where noticeable stubble could be seen. "I'm really not in the mood for games this morning, Hermione. I'd like for our reunion to be without your attitude."

Her face grew warm with his chiding and she bit the inside of her cheek.

She found herself feeling disappointed with not suddenly having any passionate motivation to fight back. Didn't all the character arcs in her books feel more confident and strong when in danger? A fire burning in their bellies to stand up for themselves?

He shifted so he was facing her better and his predatory gaze over her body had her feeling nauseous.

"I'd like to welcome you back properly," he crooned. "You want that, don't you?"

She was supposed to be talking and keeping him distracted, but the way her throat went dry and her tongue tied left her mute.

His magic settled over her and it felt like insects crawling across her skin. The cool breeze from an open window brushing her skin told her he'd vanished everything but her undergarments.

She fought back a whimper, refusing to give him that satisfaction. The small act of rebellion was something at least.

"This is also new," he murmured, curious. "Never seen you in green."

Matilda was constantly buying her lingerie, despite her protests. "Miss Hermione should love her body as much as Master does!"

She just about died from embarrassment, but the randy elf wasn't wrong...

"The fuck?"

Hermione flinched.

"A tattoo? Really?"

His scrutiny felt as if Ron was looking over his property, taking note of any damage. She paled at the thought of him turning her over and possibly seeing the love bites Malfoy often left on her breasts.

She could practically hear his scowl. "It will ruin the pictures."

"The pictures?" she questioned, turning her head to where he'd moved to the other side.

Ron looked back at her with disapproval. "For the wedding."

"Right," she whispered, taking a deep breath. "The wedding."

Several different ideas sparked in her head and she desperately reached for any bravery she'd accumulated from Ron's absence to consider them. 

She could consent to his touch and then take it back... but he wasn't stupid. He'd demand for her to take the necklace off first.

Did the necklace protect her from the imperious curse? Ron had casted back during the war so he knew how it worked and this would make Hermione more pliable. She hoped it was the necklace and not Ron waiting to use it as a last resort.

Perhaps she could play along with having the wedding, buy time and give her more opportunities to escape.

But Ron wouldn't trust her. There wouldn't be opportunities.

"Is - is Harry and Gin coming?" she asked, trying to her make her voice soft and curious. "You - We wanted a big wedding, didn't we?"

He tilted his head. "I find it rather... disheartening... you would prefer to owl a wizard you're not engaged to. I was worried, you know."

She found his lack of volatile anger surprising but the nonchalance had her trembling nonetheless.

A calm before the storm.

"We-We could have a beach wedding like you wanted," she said, her voice slightly higher pitched, not liking the way the conversation had shifted. "And-"

"Finding your letters... I was relieved to discover you were okay, but it really hurt my feelings."

Ron heaved a heavy sigh before getting to his feet, wand in hand, moving out of her peripheral.

She hissed when a flash of pain struck her back and cried out when it happened three more times. Blood trickled down her sides from the wounds.

"The - the pictures," she gasped out. "I thought -"

Another heavy sigh. "Yeah, I supposed," he said, his voice reluctant, but even if he was tentatively agreeing he still didn't heal her.

"I'm going to finish preparing... and have a drink. Want one?"

"No thank you," she whispered, knowing he'd probably try to slip in a love potion or something alike.

He heavily sighed again as if she was being difficult and soon heard the door click shut, hearing the faint groaning of wood from him going down downstairs.

Hermione looked around the room for anything that'd be considered useful, her vision a bit limited with the angle she was tied down in.

The room was practically empty, even the decor Fleur would have surely used in the room noticeably missing.

Ron wasn't taking any chances.

Bill, Fleur, and Victoire must be on holiday... and she wondered if cottage was still under the Fidelius charm from the war.

Not even Harry could find her.

What was Ron planning? It wasn't as if the family wouldn't return eventually so they couldn't stay here forever.

She craned her neck as far as she could to catch a glimpse of the window and her mind ventured to Dobby.

Dobby. House elf magic.

Her lips trembled at the possibility of escaping Ron in mere seconds.

"Pip?" she asked quietly, hopeful.

A few seconds passed, but nothing happened.

Malfoy wouldn't tell them not to listen to her would he? Or was Ron truly this prepared?

A crack in the room nearly had her sobbing in relief.

"What was that?" she heard Ron say faintly, heavy footsteps making their way up the stairs.

She turned to Pip with a smile but his expression looked pained, his muscles twitching.

"Can't... stay," Pip squeaked, his tone strained and eyes filled with terror. "Master is... Master is coming for you!"

His eyes filled with tears when he disapparated and seconds later Ron burst through the room.

"What was that?" he said sharply, and she watched as he started looking around the room.

She turned her head to keep him in her sights. "I - I was pulling at the bindings," she quickly lied. "It hurts."

He eyed her shrewdly before searching the room again. "It sounded like apparition..." His voice turned quieter and she strained to listen. "...but that's not possible. Not even Kreacher..."

He sat next to her, his eyes still suspicious. "You were messing with the bindings?"

She nodded, trying to appear guilty by looking down. "I'm sorry... they just really hurt."

Ron sighed and she caught a whiff of Firewhiskey. "You know you deserve this, right?"

Not trusting her words, she nodded.

He licked his lips, eyeing her body again. "Will you take the necklace off? I want to play."

If she took the necklace off and made a run for it, she couldn't apparate and wouldn't have much time to get away or hide. With how careful he was being, she didn't doubt there were nasty traps around the cottage just in case she escaped.

Pip's reassurance emboldened her and she confidently stared Ron in the eyes. "You're not touching me."

His hands clenched into fists, eyes flashing murderously. "You won't have a choice." Ron stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

Malfoy was on his way.

Chapter Text

Upon landing on a sandy beach, Draco vomited, his stomach churning from their mode of transportation and the amount of distance traveled.

And probably from exhaustion.

His first (and brief) trip to Romania had been nothing short of interesting. It wasn't until he was standing in front of Bill Weasley did he realize this was the wizard attacked by Greyback in his sixth year when he allowed Death Eater's into the castle.

Bill's scars looked just like Draco's.

"I was the lucky bastard who got scratched on the back" is how Blaise casually began their introductions.

It hadn't been particularly difficult to convince the secret keeper to reveal the location of their cottage due to only conveying the secret to Potter in a note which was promptly burned.

Bill and Charlie Weasley (who also had an impressive set of his own scars working with dragons) seemed like a very different... breed of Weasley he could get along with. The pair obviously had a lot of trust in Potter after confirming he was traveling with them of his own volition. They didn't demand details though they were obviously curious.

"I bloody hate portkeys," Blaise mumbled, brushing himself off and coming over. "Alright, Draco?"

He grimaced, scourgifing his mouth. "Still have that pepper-up potion?"

As Blaise searched his robes, Potter and Theo approached, both looking disheveled.

"We need a plan," Potter said, looking around paranoid. "The cottage is around the bend, but Ron will have traps. He's smart -"

All three Slytherins snorted loudly and Potter glared.

"Don't underestimate him," Potter said, his voice cool. "He's the best strategist in the department."

With effort, Draco swallowed a snide comment and reached for the potion from Blaise instead. "Alright, Potter. You know him best. What are we up against?"

The only elements of a "plan" was how to get out once they had Hermione. All of them had a portkey to Malfoy Manor in their pockets and were to send red sparks in the air if someone had her. The priority was getting Hermione out, but Potter had another portkey to take Weasley directly to a holding cell.

Draco felt this was unnecessary since he didn't plan for the Weasel to make it off the island alive.

He spun his signet ring (a nervous tick), wishing he could feel Hermione through the ring, however this could only be done after they were officially married.

Merlin, she'd be a gorgeous bride.

Potter explained the layout of the cottage as he drew diagrams in the sand, speculating where there may be traps and wards.

"If only we could just blow the cottage up without Granger getting hurt and be done," sighed Theo, straightening from his crouched position.

Potter rolled his eyes, but Draco looked over at Theo thoughtfully.

"No," said Potter, ever so observant, scowling over at Draco. "That's out of the question."

"We need an element of surprise," Draco mused, imagining the Weasel being burned alive.

"You three are the surprise," argued Potter, crossing his arms. "He doesn't know of your involvement."

"Your Auror mates could've told Weasley about our visit this morning ," countered Theo, who also seemed eager in blowing up the cottage.

"Or forced it out of Granger," Blaise added quietly.

Draco fought back a wince. It really was unfortunate he couldn't shift into his wolf on a whim and tear the Weasel to pieces.

The four went back and forth a few minutes, unable to agree.

"I'm destroying the cottage," Malfoy announced, brushing off sand from his robes. "Doing so will cause any naughty wards to malfunction. Then while you three keep him occupied, I'll find Hermione and bring her home."

And if the Weasel somehow got past them and they crossed paths, well...

"I should be the one to find her since I'm more familiar with the cottage."

"I'll be aiming to kill, Potter."

"Ah, point taken."

The four casted a disillusionment charm on their person and crept closer to the cottage.

"Stop," Draco suddenly hissed, looking around the property. They were just on the outskirts but a familiar energy of magic could be felt. "Caterwauling Charm."

He heard Potter curse, muttering a few diagnostic charms before cursing again.

"We need to lure him out," whispered Theo. "We could sing Weasley is Our King," he continued, sniggering, soon joined by Blaise and Draco.

Potter, unimpressed, murmured another charm. "Ron's downstairs and Hermione is in the master bedroom upstairs."

"Draco would probably be enough to lure him out," Blaise mused.  "Theo and I can go get Granger while Potter helps prevent Draco from being slapped with murder charges."

Potter didn't immediately respond, probably weighing the possibility if he could truly stop him from offing the Weasel.

Unlikely.

Draco smirked, adrenaline beginning to kick in with the promise of a duel.

After Potter's reluctant agreement to the change, Draco removed the disillusionment charm.

"You call yourself an Auror, Weasley?"  Draco yelled, wand at his throat for magnification."Bloody pathetic!"

There was immediate movement in the cottage and Draco made sure to have his wand at the ready.

The door slammed open and Weasel, haggard and a little pissed, waved away the Caterwauling Charm.

He heard Theo and Blaise quietly move past him.

"What the fuck?" Weasley said, looking taken aback. "Why -"

"Bombarda!"

Draco wasn't about to be sporting nor answer stupid questions.

Weasley's eyes comically widened and he leapt to the side, the door now blown off its hinges.

"Fucking Merlin, Malfoy, at least try and pretend you won't kill him," Potter snapped, revealing himself.

Draco rolled his eyes, focused on the tree Weasley was hiding behind.

"Is that you, Harry?" Weasley called, sounding shocked.

He peeked behind a tree but Draco immediately fired a jinx which only just missed his face.

"Malfoy, give us a fucking second," Potter said angerily before turning back to the tree. "Ron, can you just throw your wand over so we can talk?"

"Why the fuck would I do that?" Weasley yelled back. "I've done nothing wrong! Why is Malfoy here?"

Draco's blood was boiling. Done nothing wrong?

Potter also seemed frustrated. "We know you have Hermione -"

"I can't be with my wife on our honeymoon?"

Draco set the tree on fire and Weasley screamed, running to a different tree and deflecting another jinx.

"Malfoy -" Potter sent a jet of water to the tree much to his chagrin. "Would you bloody stop?"

"No."

"Ron!" Potter shouted, shooting Draco a reproachful look. "Just... surrender and we can talk about this!"

Draco rolled his eyes. What was with wizards always wanting to talk before a duel? Even the Dark Lord had been guilty of this.

Weasley was silent and this made Draco twitchy.

"Is my wife fucking you, Malfoy?" he suddenly asked angerily.

Well, that was a curious leap to make.

"She's not your bloody wife!"

"We soul-bonded before you lot showed up -"

Draco stopped breathing, incredulous.

"- and if you kill me, you'll only be hurting her."

He was shaking with rage and Potter looked over to him, horrified. "He - He's bluffing," Potter whispered.

"Nothing you can do!" Weasley laughed. "So bugger off so we can finish having a proper honeymoon."

"Bombarda maxima!"

The tree exploded, splinters and branches flying in every direction.

"Ron!"

Potter ran to the Weasel who was now laying face down, branches covering his body.

Draco was still trembling, his mind racing. Though his emotions were scattered, logic was cutting through.

She would have had to take the necklace off... there had to be witnesses and a binder...

A loud crash of glass shattering from the cottage distracted him but then he saw Potter in his peripheral being blasted off his feet.

Weasley stood among the debris, wand now turned towards him.

"Crucio!"

Unable to deflect, Draco dropped to the ground, the curse flying over his head.

"Unforgivables, Weasley?" yelled Malfoy, sending his own powerful jinx. "What would mummy say?"

"Let me ask yours - oh wait!"

Draco swore and dodged another curse.

Green, blue, red, and purple spells cascaded between the two wizards. Draco was a brilliant duelist, but out of practice, and Weasley was an Auror who was surprisngly skillful and quick on his feet.

Yelling from the cottage had him losing focus for a split second and Weasley managed to hit him with a painful stunner causing him to fall on his back.

Draco was still recovering from his transformation the night before and his body was begging him to stop fighting.

He pictured Granger and the years of abuse she's suffered at his hand; showing up on his doorstep with knickers around her ankles and bruises around her neck.

Granger in his mother's quarters, broken and trembling from fighting a bogart.

A woman who could hold her own in banter and made him feel alive.

The cheeky witch who wiggled her icy toes under his thigh while they cuddled on the settee.

Fuck, he loved her. Icy toes and all.

He just needed to fight until the red sparks were sent into the sky assuring Granger was safe.

Gritting his teeth, he rolled to his side, deflecting another jinx, and made it to his feet.

The duel continued, both wizards breathing heavily from exertion.

"Ready to give up?" Weasley panted, his movements becoming more sloppy. "Sectumsempra!"

Draco deflected with a grimace.

"Is her cunt honestly worth this much to you?" Weasley continued, apparently feeling chatty. "I mean, honestly -"

Weasley was suddenly knocked off his feet, his expression stupidly shocked before he fell.

Standing behind him was Potter, leaning heavily on one side with an arm wrapped around his middle. His free hand held his wand pointed directly at Weasley.

Draco ran over to join Potter where he was magically restraining him.

With a sneer, he stomped on the Weasel's face. And he did it again.

And again.

And again.

"Malfoy!" Potter yelled, shoving his shoulder. "Stop! Hermione wouldn't want this!"

Weasley's face was no longer recognizable, a swirling mix of blood and swollen purple flesh.

Draco growled loudly, sounding inhuman even to his ears, as he continued destroying Weasley's face.

"Malfoy!"

The feminine note to his name broke through his pulsing anger and he turned just as a mane of wild curls obscured his vision, delicate trembling arms now wrapped around his neck.

"Granger?" he whispered brokenly, arms slowly wrapping around her waist.

She burst into tears, holding him tight, and he fell to his knees.

The relief he could feel was palpable, the tension in his body melting away.

Draco pulled away slightly to see her face, puffy and red from crying, and he used his thumbs to caress her face and wipe away the tears.

Her brown eyes were beautiful and bright, her lips upturned with a smile.

"You came," she whispered, resting her forehead against his.

"I'm sorry," he whispered thickly, surprised when his eyes began to fill with tears. "This wouldn't have happened if I'd-"

She was shaking her head the moment he spoke. "You're here now."

He wrapped his arms around her again but noticed she had winced and immediately pulled his arms back, looking at her properly.

Granger was drowning in what appeared to be Theo's robes but he could still see the emerald necklace peeking through.

"Are you hurt?" he said, cupping her face and searching her eyes.

"I'll be okay."

Draco's eyes narrowed.

"My back - he - I'll be okay."

His jaw clenched and he looked back towards the Weasel but he'd already vanished along with Potter.

Farther behind them, Blaise was cradling his left arm with superficial cuts across his face while Theo was bleeding from his ears and had second degree burns on the right side of his body.

He wondered what kind of bloody obstacles they must have faced to end up with such injuries. However, they both seemed to be alright and, with a quick nod of acknowledgement, they retrieved their portkeys and vanished.

He looked back to Granger and kissed her gently on the lips, closing his eyes.  "Let's go home."

Chapter Text

"I don't know if I can do this," Hermione whispered, staring at the crackling green flames of the floo.

It'd only been a few days since she was abducted and saved. She found it mind-boggling being forced to go through a full trial when she had verified memories backing her claim.

Ron was pleading not guilty and apparently afforded a decent lawyer, Daphne Greengrass, who had immediately came to his defense and taken his case. Hermione firmly believed he knew of the possibility of being caught and this had been his contingency plan.

Ron was a strategist and a bloody good one.

Daphne was known to be ruthless and Hermione wondered what defense they would be using.

Her own attorney had been appointed to her, but Malfoy assured her they were well-suited.

She heard Malfoy approach from behind, his hands resting on her hips. She leaned back into his chest with a quiet sigh.

Upon her rescue and returning to the Manor, she'd nearly stunned Malfoy to stop him from raising the Ministry after he'd seen the injuries on her back and found she was wearing nothing but her knickers under Theo's robes.

Harry had thankfully managed to get Malfoy out of any legal trouble for the time being, but Ron was apparently within his rights to sue.

Malfoy was quiet before he spoke, kissing the top of her head. "I'll be there with you."

"I know," she whispered, turning around to face him. "I just don't want to see him."

Malfoy grimaced, tucking a curl behind her ear, but didnt comment. He wouldn't force her to go, she knew this.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled away and stepped into the floo. "Ministry of Magic."

When she appeared on the other side, there was a split second of panic. Everyone immediately stopped whatever they were doing to stare, shuffling closer to talk to her. However she knew immediately when Malfoy was behind her when many balked.

Malfoy slowly slid his fingers through her's and kissed her temple. "I'm here."

Swallowing hard she nodded and they made their way to the lift, bypassing the security desk.

Everyone gave them a wide berth, whispering loudly about the scandal of them being together amongst her disappearance and facing Ron in court.

People were now scared to be in the vicinity of them due to Malfoy, and she supposed from an outside perspective his scars and scowl would be intimidating.

However a thought made her suddenly giggle as they stepped into the lift and he looked down at her with a curious smirk.

"Everyone seems so scared of you but really you're just a cuddly teddy."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes.

"Cuddly wolf," she amended, stifling another laugh.

Malfoy huffed in playful offense, now caging her to the wall of the lift.

"I'm not cuddly," he argued with a fierce scowl.

"Sure you're not," she cooed, unable to hide her budding smile. "Especially not at night or in the morning or in the library or -"

She broke off into another fit of giggles as he abruptly started tickling her sides, his body caging her still as she squirmed and laughed.

"I'm sorry-" she squeaked out of breath. "You're a terrifying beast and everyone should fear you. Not the least bit cuddly."

He pulled away, looking awfully smug.

All amusement and her newly flushed cheeks faded as the lift came to a stop.

"Deep breaths," Draco murmured, kissing her temple as they got off the lift, making their way to the chambers deep in the bowels of the Ministry.

She hadn't been here since polyjuiced as Mafalda Hopkirk, forcibly assisting Umbridge with the Muggleborn Registration Commission.

She shivered as they entered (from the chill or the memory she wasn't sure), taking a seat in the front.

Wizengamot members were still filing in, and she rested her forehead against Malfoy's shoulder next to her to avoid their curious stares.

"Miss Granger."

Hermione's head shot up, her mouth popping open in shock. Theo Nott was standing in front of her in an expensive tan suit, fixing his cuffs with a charming smirk.

"Did I forget to mention who your lawyer is?" Malfoy said innocently.

"What - how?" she sputtered, not comprehending the inappropriate tattoo artist with being a prosecutor.

"Usually by earning their Mastery in Magical Law," Theo drawled, shooting her a wink.

She was still gob-smacked.

Theo sighed dramatically, opening a briefcase with various files on the table in front of them. "I'm bloody good at this you know, but the job can be awfully stagnant." He lowered his voice. "And the Ministry's incompetence is maddening to witness. This trial would be an example of that."

A side door of the chambers opened revealing Daphne Greengrass.

Hermione would say she looked like a Malfoy with her long blonde hair, arched brow, and confident smirk. Her striped grey pantsuit fit her smartly.

Her focus on Daphne Greengrass was quickly taken away as soon as Ron shuffled behind her in shackles.

The swelling was gone and his nose fixed, but he seemed to have purposely left the purple bruising for sympathy. As soon as his blue eyes met her's, they widened innocently. "Hermione, don't do this," he pleaded. "This is a mistake! I love you!"

Kingsley who was now seated sternly reprimanded him for speaking.

Theo adjusted how he was sitting so her view of Ron on the other side was obscured.

Ron's presence made her feel small, emotional and psychological wounds she thought she was getting a handle on reopening.

She sucked in a shaky breath as Malfoy tucked her into his side, his hand cradling the back of her head so her face was buried into his chest.

There was a growl building in his chest but it was too quiet for anyone but her and Theo to hear.

"I have you, love," he said quietly, and she clenched her jaw to hold back her tears.

She was frustrated with her lack of strength and confidence but his presence was triggering terrible flashbacks that were just barely repressed from her mind's eye.

Harry entered the room which had her looking up while he eyed Ron coldly, approaching her side.

"Smart," Malfoy murmured into her ear. "Showing the Wizengamot who he's siding with."

Hermione wiped away a traitorous tear with the back of her hand and stood to give her friend a hug. He held her tightly, cradling the back of her head just as Malfoy had done.

"I'm not going anywhere," Harry whispered, pulling away only to cup her face. "I love you and believe you."

She knew Harry did but hearing the validation caused the uncomfortable vice around her heart to lessen slightly.

"I made sure Malfoy could be with you for the proceedings," he continued, pulling away with a sigh. "Just make sure he doesn't try to kill Ron in front of fifty Wizengamot members and the Minister of Magic. That would be difficult to explain."

"I'm right here, Potter," Malfoy drawled, smoothing his already unwrinkled robes.

"Oh, so you are," Harry smirked, sending her a wink before taking his position by the door.

She rolled her eyes but snorted when Theo leaned over and whispered, "Sassy Potter is a sight to behold. A shame I'm mad for someone else."

Malfoy wasn't as amused.

If she was honest, she didn't pay much attention to the opening speeches. It felt as if she was underwater or had cotton stuffed in her ears. Both Theo and Daphne's body language commandeered the room, but she only felt grounded by Malfoy's gentle caresses against her waist as he held her. Everything else was simply too much to process.

She was brought back to her senses at the sound of her name.

" - Hermione Granger to the stand."

Swallowing harshly, she unwillingly pulled herself away from Malfoy's arms and walked over to the chair front and center of the room, her footsteps reverberating loudly in the room.

What Hermione wasn't expecting however was for Daphne to pull a pair of knickers out of her briefcase.

A red lacy thong... one of Ron's favorites.

Hermione sat there, her cheeks heated in mortification.

How dare she?

As Theo fought to have this not be registered as evidence, she couldn't stop herself from looking over at Ron who wore a smirk before licking his lips suggestively.

She nearly lost her breakfast from earlier then and there.

"Miss Granger, you recognize these as yours?"

"Y-yes -"

"You've worn these before?"

"Yes but- "

"A lacy thong for someone claiming to be raped, how curious. I would argue anyone wearing these for their fiancé would be having consensual sex... that you wanted it."

Hermione's hands were trembling while Theo furiously objected. Kingsley and Harry notably looked sickened by such crudeness but a handful of Wizengamot members were eyeing her suspiciously.

"He forced me to wear them," she said quietly. "But it shouldn't matter what I'm wearing. Clothes do not give consent, I do."

Daphne hummed, vanishing the lace. "Let's move onto jewelry. Specifically Salazar Slytherin's locket, a horcrux."

Mumbled conversation immediately erupted and Hermione's heart sank as Kingsley demanded silence.

That was their true defense: the effects of the horcrux.

That had been her excuse in the beginning too, how she rationalized his behavior and treatment towards her.

"You all took turns wearing the locket while on the run with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, correct?"

"Yes."

"Is it true that Mr. Weasley was effected by the horcrux more than yourself and Harry Potter? Need I remind you, you are under oath, Miss Granger."

The room was very still but she could feel the smugness from Ron oozing from where he sat.

"I supposed," she said quietly, forcing herself not to fidget or appear anxious. "It made us all act out of sorts."

"So it could be argued your fiancé's behavior is not of his own doing but as a result of the horcrux."

"I didn't hear a question," she snipped, pleased when Daphne's eyes flashed in annoyance.

"From your professional opinion as a cursebreaker," she started, a single brow raised in challenge. "Could a horcrux alter your fiancé's behavior?"

"Horcrux or not, there is no excuse for the way I have been physically and psychologically abused, emotionally manipulated, and repeatedly and violently raped, Ms. Greengrass," Hermione said coldly, though her hands trembled at the blatant admission. She looked at her patronus tattoo for boost of courage. "It does not excuse how my ex whipped me, choked me until I agreed to submit or blacked out, and raped me until I bled."

"I'm requesting a recess, Minister," she ended boldly, making eye contact with Kingsley who somberly acquiesced.

Daphne smirked at her, but she could tell it wasn't quite genuine. She seemed a bit shaken from her statement.

Hermione's breathing was uneven and she turned her focus to Malfoy but had only just managed to see the back of his head as he quickly left the room.

She almost broke then and there but Theo made his way to her, nodding his head to a spot in the corner for more privacy before answering her silent question. "Draco was ready to kill," he murmured, rubbing her back. "He was barely holding it together, love. I told him he needed to get some air before he lost it."

She bit her bottom lip, feeling guilty in dragging him here in the first place.

Theo narrowed his eyes at her. "I want to kill him too, Granger," he said, his voice dangerously low and not sounding like him at all. "I'm just not a bloody werewolf."

She'd seen him like this a few days ago when he found her tied to the bed with slashes on her back, but it was still difficult to fathom this with the wizard who constantly cracked jokes and made beautiful tattoos 

"He was also ready to rip out Greengrass' throat," Theo continued now scowling. "She's a bloody nightmare and treated you like shit."

"Doing her job, I guess," she mumbled weakly.

Theo shook his head, crossing his arms, looking over to where Daphne and Ron were talking in low whispers. "This is personal. She's jealous."

"What?" she said aghast, blushing when a few people looked over at her. She lowered her voice. "I don't understand."

Theo hesitated, as if this wasn't his story to tell. "Draco was supposed to be betrothed to her younger sister Astoria but she fell ill while he was in Azkaban. She died before he was released. Daphne was to take her place for the betrothal; however, Draco refused. He didn't want either of the sisters in the first place. When his parents passed, he tore apart the contract."

Hermione blinked, wrapping her mind around it all and wondering why Malfoy hadn't mentioned anything.

Theo's eyes suddenly softened. "My guess is he didn't say anything to you because there wasn't anything, Granger. It was four years ago and he had no feelings for either of them. No attachment. He locked himself in the Manor determined to be alone."

His lips upturned into a smile. "Until you came into his life."

"But why would Daphne be jealous?" she asked quietly, brows furrowed

Theo rolled his eyes, his expression affectionate and exasperated. "Because he's in love with you, you silly bint," he answered, grinning. "Draco has no interest in her and she's not getting a sickle of his fortune."

Draco came back into the room, his expression schooled into cool indifference. However, she carefully watched to see Daphne's expression and saw how her eyes followed him with a scowl.

"You okay?" she asked quietly as Malfoy approached.

His cool indifference cracked and he immediately engulfed her into a hug. "I should be asking you that, love," he said quietly, kissing her forehead, before she burrowed her face into his neck.

"I just want to go home," she said quietly, her shoulders sagging in contentment in being held.

"It's not fair, I know," he murmured, and for some reason this caused her eyes to fill with tears. "You shouldn't have to defend yourself like this or be subjected to such cruelty after everything you've been through."

She inhaled shakily, grounding herself to the way he held her.

"Mr. Nott and Miss Granger," said Kingsley, coming over.  "Ms. Greengrass and her client would like to settle for a compromise. They are willing to change their plea to "guilty" if the Wizengamot agrees for her client to be admitted to St. Mungos for long-term treatment."

Hermione's stomach churned as Malfoy stiffened.

"If the vote does not turn to their favor, then they are willing to settle for six years in Azkaban. Or, we can continue with the trial."

Malfoy was right, none of this was fair.

"Do the vote," Hermione whispered, taking the three wizards aback. "But I don't want to be here when they decide."

"Granger -" said Theo gently.

"Please take me home, Malfoy," she said quietly and he didn't hesitate.

Once they were back at the Manor she was an anxious mess for the Wizengamot's decision but she didn't regret her decision. She shouldn't have to endure being in the same room as him. She shouldn't have to put up with his leering or smugness or Daphne's cruelty.

This decision was for her own mental stability and health.

Malfoy cuddled with her in the library, humming low under his breath as he drew soothing patterns on her back. She was wrapped snug in a luxuriously soft blanket on his lap with tea and biscuits on the table.

"Is this a wolf thing?" she teased lightly, laying her head on his shoulder. "Some wolfy instinct to be so nice."

Malfoy snorted and she pictured him rolling his eyes. "Merlin forbid that I want to take care of you, Granger." He paused, his voice softer. "I would hope if I wasn't plagued by lycanthropy, I would still treat you how you deserve."

She turned to kiss his neck and felt a subtle vibration in his chest and throat as if the wolf was purring.

However their peace was soon disrupted by Theo slamming the library doors open, his face filled with shock.

"Weasley was attacked."

Hermione paled rapidly, holding her breath.

"He's dead."

Chapter Text

Hermione grieved, her emotions layered and complex.

No matter how much she willed herself to not believe the truth in her heart, she still loved Ron.

She grieved for who the man used to be: her best friend. The boy who could make her laugh in school and the man that was her rock during the war.

She didn't think she would react so strongly to his death. Perhaps there would be grim satisfaction or unexpected happiness... not this shell of herself sobbing in her suite the last two days.

But there was another component to her grief: he'd been killed before the vote.

She felt as if the rug had been pulled from underneath her and she'd fallen into a chasm of unknowns.

She didn't want to feel like this.

Nothing was ever fair.

When she and Malfoy left and the Wizengamot were informed of the settlement, hands were just starting to raise when Lavender Brown appeared in the stands (under guise of polyjuice) and attacked, sending a complicated string of curses at Ron before being stunned by Harry.

Ron didn't survive.

Harry informed her of more details when he'd stopped by the Manor later that evening.

Lavender was pregnant.

Ron had purposely tampered with her monthly potions.

When she made the choice to not go through with terminating the pregnancy, she'd decided the only way to protect her unborn child from future harm was to kill Ron.

After Harry and Hermione held each other and cried, she overheard from the top of the stairs Malfoy offering to help with any financial burdens Brown may have from her arrest and trial.

At first, numb and fresh with grief, this offering upset her. She found herself filled with venomous thoughts aimed at Malfoy.

He's helping her because he failed to kill Ron himself !

However even if that was true, the more she thought about it, the more she empathized with Lavender.

Ron had been getting more aggressive with her and it wasn't until she discovered she was pregnant that Lavender had the strength to end things... or end him.

Hermione felt cheated in many ways with Ron being killed, but she couldn't stay angry with the fellow Gryffindor. And Malfoy offering his resources to give her adequate legal representation had been thoughtful and generous... even if he did feel genuine pleasure with him dead.

By the third day of hiding in her suite, her grief slowly transformed into determination. What she went through in the Wizengamot chambers was a bloody circus and no witch or wizard should have to go through what she did.

So when Malfoy quietly asked if he could come in, he'd probably not been expecting to find Hermione surrounded by numerous opened magical law texts and scrolls with dozens of parchmant scattered about.

However her eyes brightened when he stepped into view.

She attempted to remove herself from the chaotic organizational system she created, but tripped.

Malfoy lunged to catch her with a laugh, shaking his head, before sweeping her into a kiss.

She hummed against his lips, thankful she'd showered and brushed her teeth earlier.

He eventually pulled away to cup her face, eyes searching her's. Despite cleaning up, she knew there were still deep purple bruises underneath her eyes.

His eyes were so beautiful and looking down at her with such adoration shining through she couldn't help but blush.

He nudged her nose with his and she nudged him back with a smile.

"Are you using this as an escape, love?" he soon asked quietly and she immediately tensed defensively. "I want to make sure you're not purposely masking your emotions. It's okay to grieve for as long as you need."

She exhaled heavily, her fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt while she looked down. "No, this isn't an escape," she said quietly. "I love who Ron used to be. I don't blame anyone for what's happened."

She glanced back at her research. "This is helping me heal. I don't want anyone to go through what I did at the Ministry. There is little legal protection for survivors and they deserve our respect and dignity."

Malfoy's eyes shined with pride, mouth curling into a smile. "You're right. Is there anything I can do?

Hermione smirked, wrapping her arms around his neck. "A financial backer may be helpful with getting the message across. Think you know anyone who could spare a galleon or two?"

Malfoy grinned. "I might know someone."

His expression soon softened, wrapping one of her stray curls around his finger. "You should still see a Mind Healer."

She pulled away from him with a disgruntled sigh, stepping carefully back into her circle.

"Granger -"

"I know," she interrupted, pulling a book into her lap but not truly seeing any of the words. "I just -"

Her jaw clenched.

Imagining herself across from some older educated witch eyeing her critically... okay fine, picturing Professor McGonagall looking down at her with a disappointed frown as Hermione pitifully went over excuses why she hadn't left Ron earlier.

To relive her nightmares as she laid down on a chaise while the Healer sat across from her jotting Merlin knows what on a notepad... she could picture this so clearly it was sickening.

There was so much shame and embarrassment. Even saying anything to a close friend had her stomach in knots, so why would a stranger be any different?

"I just can't," she finished bitterly, her knuckles white from clenching her book. "I'll go when you go," she then retorted rudely, feeling under scrutiny from his piercing gaze.

She focused on her breathing so she could calm herself enough to apologize when hands were suddenly on her waist and pulling her up.

"Hey! My-"

The book falling from her lap was being caught by magic and floated gently to the ground.

Malfoy picked her up like she weighed nothing which she attributed to him being a rather fit werewolf before sitting on the edge of her bed, placing her on his knee.

His hand turned her chin to look at him, his expression serious.

"I'm sor-"

He kissed her chastely, shaking his head. "Nothing to apologize for."

His silver eyes bored into her's with significant intent. "If I see a Mind Healer, you will go?"

Malfoy wouldn't let her look away, waiting.

She was just being snarky before, but his compromise was now forcing her to consider.

"Two sessions," he said quietly, silver eyes gentle. "We'll both try seeing some hag for two sessions and then it's up to us individually to continue."

She didn't necessarily have to bare her soul within two meetings, she reasoned. And the fact Malfoy was willing to see one for himself spoke volumes to her.

"Okay," she finally whispered, leaning her forehead against his and closing her eyes.

"That's my girl," he whispered back, and her stomach did a somersault.

A week later when she flooed to her appointment and saw a young muggleborn Mind Healer sitting cross-legged in a chair with a kind smile and without a notepad, her presumptions started to crumble.

There was also the added bonus of Malfoy rewarding her with his tongue which was incredibly persuasive as he murmured praise into her cunt.

Lavender was sentenced to six months in Azkaban, but would be receiving accommodations considering her pregnancy. Hermione struggled to put her feelings properly into words around this and decided in her second session to blurt how she wasn't sure how to process.

Healer Emma showed no judgements as she rambled before raising her hand to respectfully interrupt. "It sounds like you're feeling offended on behalf of who Ron used to be, for his killer not being sentenced for a longer amount of time, does that sound accurate?'

Hermione nodded wordlessly as Emma continued.

"But there's guilt because you're happy Lavender Brown wasn't sentenced for a longer duration."

She imagined her thoughts being a tangled and knotted pile of yarn and Healer Emma was slowly taking the yarn and wrapping it neatly into a ball as they talked.

And though she left her second session drained and weary, the tightness in her chest loosened ever so slightly.

“Healing is embracing what is most feared; healing is opening what has been closed, softening what has hardened into obstruction, healing is learning to trust life.”
– Jeanne Achterberg

Chapter Text

Holidays in general were a stressful affair, but Christmas always needed to be perfect. Hermione was responsible for purchasing Ron's gifts, and every recipient needed to be satisfied. The more expensive purchases would always be from him and she had to be careful not to outshine him with her own.

This year's Christmas was vastly different.

She and Malfoy were cuddled together on the sofa in the library, the charmed night sky twinkling overhead. Stockings hung from the mantle while the fire crackled and popped; presents for each other and friends were placed underneath their Gryffindor-Slytherin Christmas tree.

They'd been cuddling for only a few minutes before he pulled away slightly to face her with a bashful grin.

"I have something for you."

"And this can't wait until tomorrow?" she asked with a chuckle, shaking her head. "You've already given me three gifts today."

She woke up this snowy Christmas Eve to a beautiful vase of enchanted roses on her nightstand with the note: Until the last petal falls.

At breakfast it was a pair of emerald earrings to compliment her necklace before Malfoy shagged her senseless at the table. The house elves (read: Matilda) were told to stay away from this part of the manor.

Thirdly during an impromptu competitive snowball fight, he'd kissed her sweetly like he had over a month ago in the snow before showing her a portkey that would take them to his family's villa in Paris the day after Christmas.

"No," he said with a smirk, his eyes mischievous. "I'm afraid this cannot wait."

She playfully rolled her eyes, unable to hide her smile. "You'll have nothing to give me tomorrow at this rate."

Malfoy only continued to smirk, pointing his wand to a present wrapped nicely in green foil underneath the tree, and removed the top of the box.

Hermione gasped, trembling hands covering her mouth as a midnight black kitten jumped out. The nature of their inquisitive green eyes told her they were at least part-kneazle.

She slid off the couch to the floor and the kitten immediately strutted as proudly as a kitten could towards her, tumbling into her lap with a squeaky roar.

As she delved her fingers through his soft fur, loud purring being the immediate response, she turned back to Malfoy on the couch in awe.

"You bought me a cat."

"A kneazle," he corrected, lightly tapping her nose before joining her on the floor. "Check his collar."

She quickly looked down, eager to see his name, and her breath caught.

Will you marry me, Granger?

Eyes quickly filling with tears she turned to Malfoy, a ring box already being offered in the palm of his hand.

"I love you," he said quietly, the silver shining bright, his mouth quirking into a charming crooked smile. "I don't say it as often as I should, but I do."

"I didn't think I would ever find love, even before I became a beast," he continued wryly, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. "We both believe divination to be a load of rubbish, but something in the stars must have aligned to bring us together because I can't imagine my life without you."

He opened the ring box, his eyes never leaving her's when her lips parted at the sight of a gorgeous (surprisingly not too ostentatious) ring. "I vow to love you, cherish you, and protect you in this life and the next."

Malfoy paused, his eyes searching her's. She could see his excitement, his nervousness, the adoration... he simply took her breath away.

"Will you marry me, Hermione?"

After gently removing the kitten from her lap and placing him safely on the couch behind them, she tackled him.

"Oof!"

She giggled, straddling his waist as Malfoy landed on his back, his eyes sparkling up at her in amusement. "Are you seducing me as a distraction or is that a yes, love?"

"Yes, you prat, I'll marry you!" she laughed, wiping away the tears that had started to fall.

Malfoy grinned, removing the ring from its box and securing the band on her trembling left hand before kissing the inside of her wrist. "Mrs. Granger-Malfoy has a ring to it."

Hermione grinned back, pleased at how he already knew she would be hyphenating her last name. "I love you."

Malfoy's face was flushed pink, his eyes bright and dazzling. "I love you too."

Her chest was blooming with love and warmth for the wizard underneath her as she bent forward for a kiss.

His hands tangled into her hair and she tugged on his resulting in a low growl reverberating in his chest. Her thighs clenched tighter around his waist as he nipped at her bottom lip.

Malfoy's hands were slowly climbing underneath her sleep shirt, his thumbs soon making the lightest of sweeps against her nipples. He still manged to dominate the kiss from the floor, swallowing every moan and gasp while he went back and forth between tweaking her nipples and agonizingly gentle touches.

A squeaky roar had them breaking apart as they looked up to see the kneazle's green curious eyes watching them from the edge of the couch.

"Your name is Nox," Hermione decided in a throaty whisper, smiling softly up at her new familiar despite the interruption.

Nox did another squeaky roar in approval.

"Nox should give us some privacy," Malfoy grumbled, eyes playfully narrowed at him peering down.

Hermione snorted but to her surprise Nox seemed to have understood and jumped down with a chirp, trotting away to explore the library.

Malfoy grinned wickedly before suddenly flipping them, having silently casted a cushioning charm before the back of her head touched the floor. 

She moaned (from the skillful magic or his tongue she wasn't sure), her nails lightly scratching down his chest.

"Fuck, Granger," Malfoy murmured lowly, nipping and sucking across her neck and collarbone, his hand cupping her sex over her thin shorts.

Her breath hitched as she squirmed underneath him, his long fingers inching closer to her waistband to touch her.

Two very familiar voices however could be heard beyond the closed double doors.

"Oi! Where are those two?"

"Probably fucking against the bookshelves in the library, the bloody bibliophiles," was Theo's booming reply to Blaise, his tone fond.

Malfoy loudly groaned, his face hitting the floor with a thud next to her head.

Hermione laughed, squirming underneath him to get free.

His eyes darkened and she bit her bottom lip to hide a smirk. "Later," she whispered, giving him a chaste kiss. "Happy Christmas, Malfoy."

He sighed dramatically before nudging her nose with his, a smile playing at his lips. "Happy Christmas, Granger."

"In a world where everyone wears a mask, it’s a privilege to see a soul." -Amanda Richardson

Chapter Text

Five years later.

Malfoy was pacing when Hermione stepped out of the floo, and her mouth curled into a satisfied smirk.

He immediately engulfed her in a hug, kissing her temple while one hand stretched over her protruding stomach. "I knew you could do it," he whispered, nipping at her ear.

When she resigned from her position as a Curse Breaker three years ago, she and Theo opened their own private practice into magical law. The business was unusual due to also becoming a tattoo parlor on the weekends; their floo connected to St. Mungos where werewolves could be treated with magical tattoos infused with wolfsbane.

Their work on both business fronts were profound in systemic change in the Wizarding World. Werewolves were often too impoverished for purchasing the ingredients for wolfsbane every month, but wolfsbane tattoos allowed for a cheaper alternative, only needing to renew the dose every two years. (Finding out two years was the frequency between doses had not been a pleasant affair to say the least but no one had been hurt and that's what she insisted mattered most.)

Hermione's work around protecting the survivors of domestic violence changed the course of DMLE investigations and proceedings among the Wizengamot. Testimony to the court were done without the abuser present, relevant and modern legislation was passed regarding protection and privacy laws, and there was now collaboration between the DMLE and St. Mungos Mind Healing Division. There was more work to be done, of course, but Hermione was pleased with the current trajectory.

Today however had been a slightly different turn of events. Hermione had faced against Daphne Greengrass in a civil suit to revoke her license.

She thought Daphne had shown a twinge of pity during the disastrous trial five years ago, which made her hesitant to seek retribution. However the witch continued on with slandering Hermione in the Prophet and Witch Weekly - adding fuel to the fiendfyre of Ron's death, Hermione's trial, and her relationship with Malfoy.

Hermione was determined to see Daphne Greengrass legally torn apart (though Blaise helpfully offered his services, off the books).

And she fucking did it.

"Watched as her contract was incinerated before her eyes," Hermione murmured as Malfoy made a trail of hot kisses down her neck. "Will be in the Prophet tomorrow."

She felt his smirk as he continued his ministrations, licking and nipping at her skin.

"How long do we have?" Hermione breathed, eyes beginning to roll as he palmed her heavy breasts.

Malfoy hummed but didn't respond as he placed a pillow on the arm of the sofa and bent her over, bunching up her dress over her arse before unzipping his trousers.

She moaned as he reached around to play with her clit until she was a begging and writhing mess.

"They're due back anytime," he whispered low in her ear before thrusting into her wet cunt.

Hermione couldn't coherently reprimand him for his callousness; her pregnancy hormones simply didn't give a damn.

His fingers dug into her wider hips as he pounded into her, something he repeatedly told her he loved, as he praised her in a low growl for taking his cock.

It didn't take long for them both to finish and while Hermione caught her breath, Malfoy was quick to cast freshening charms and clean his release dripping down her thighs.

He helped fix her dress and tame her curls back into her plait before voices down the hall could be heard.

One particular giggle had them both exchanging soft smiles.

Being swung between Blaise and Theo was a young girl with curly white-blonde hair and piercing silver eyes.

"Mummy!" she squealed, quickly letting go of her uncles and running until she reached her mother's leg.

Hermione grinned and picked her up, ignoring the disapproving look from Malfoy for lifting. "How's my sweet, Lyra?" she whispered, rubbing her nose against her's.

Malfoy wrapped his arms around them both, fingers absentmindedly running through his daughter's curls.

"Ice cream!" was her simple answer, giving them a toothy grin.

Hermione shot the two wizards an exasperated look. "She's only two!"

Theo and Blaise shrugged simultaneously, unbothered.

"So?" Blaise asked with a raised brow. "Am I pillaging the House of Greengrass in two weeks?"

Hermione smirked. "Pillaging has been taken care of."

"That's not all that's been pillaged," snickered Theo, earning a light stunner from Malfoy.

Theo pouted as Lyra giggled, far use to their antics even if she didn't quite understand the context.

"Leo?" Lyra asked, patting Hermione's stomach gently.

"Leo is doing good," she said, moving her daughter's hand so she could feel her brother kick.

Lyra gasped. "Hi, Leo!"

Malfoy chuckled, taking Lyra into his arms.

It was Hermione's turn to pout but he only raised a brow, kissing her cheek.  They still had two months until Leo's arrival but apparently she "did too much". He took Healers' orders very seriously, despite her reassurances that she was fine.

"When is Potter and his gremlins due to arrive?" Blaise questioned, checking his watch.

"Anytime now," Hermione said, checking her's as well, ignoring Malfoy's snort.

Theo hummed, taking Blaise's hand. "We'll be right back... need to fetch a few last minute gifts from our guest suite."

Hermione rolled her eyes as they practically ran from the room.

Last minute gifts, her arse.

Pip suddenly popped in with a bow. "Miss Brown is here."

She tried not to make a face and nodded. "Thank you."

"Pip!" Lyra squealed, squirming out of her father's hold. "Play?"

Pip grinned and held out a waiting hand, the two soon skipping away in the direction of the play room.

"Do you want any company?" Malfoy murmured, bending down to pat Nox on the head who had slinked into the room, his loud purring filling the silence.

"No," Hermione sighed, summoning two small parcels from underneath the tree. "It's always quick."

He nodded, biting his tongue.

She knew he didn't understand why her and Lavendar stayed in touch, but he didn't question their... acquaintance-ship.

Hermione made her way to the front of the manor, chewing her bottom lip. Honestly their exchanges were always brief, if not awkward. A quick exchange of pleasantries here and there was all it was.

Her Mind Healer suggested perhaps this was how she reconciled with the past but all Hermione knew was she somehow felt lighter after their interactions, even if it didn't make much sense.

Lavender, still wrapped in her winter coat, stood in the entrance hall. One hand held a bright pink gift and the other was holding her daughter's hand, Rose.

Rose sported wavy red hair, but thankfully inherited her mother's dark brown eyes.

"Hermione," said Lavender with a nod, giving her an awkward side hug. "How are you?"

"I'm alright," she said as the two briefly exchanged parcels. "Leo however, seems to always have a foot lodged in my ribs."

Lavender laughed, looking down at Rose who watched between them curiously. "I was fortunate that Rosie was an easy pregnancy."

Hermione smiled. "Spending Christmas with the Weasley's?"

She sighed, her nose wrinkling. "I think I might be dropping Rosie off this year. It's still... a lot."

Hermione nodded in understanding. Molly and Arthur were always cordial but even she had difficulty going to the Burrow. Molly seemed to pretend Ron died in the line of duty as an Auror and not from his mistress during a rape trial.

"I have a date though," Lavender whispered, wiggling her eyebrows. "He's a Muggle but such a prince charming!"

She smiled politely but didn't ask for more details and the pair soon left, Rose's curious eyes never leaving her's until they disapparated.

Hermione heaved a sigh before returning to the library, soothing a rambunctious Leo with caresses against her belly.

She was still healing after everything Ron put her through, naturally. However the night terrors had lessened, her confidence grown, and she was happy.

As she stood in the doorway to the library, her smile grew.

Harry and Ginny were laughing at something Theo said, his arm wrapped around Blaise's waist.

Albus and Lyra were chasing after Nox, giggling as they went. She knew they'd never catch him but the Kneazle seemed to enjoy their little game.

James was talking excitedly to Malfoy about Quidditch much to her husband's chagrin which is probably why the other adults were snickering nearby.

He noticed her presence and quickly made his escape as politely as he could to a six-year-old, joining her in the doorway.

Malfoy's arm wrapped around her waist, his hand on her belly in an attempt to calm his son. "Potter's spawn -"

" - is a wonderful little boy who adores you," Hermione finished sweetly, kissing his cheek.

He rolled his eyes, but she knew he truly didn't mind.

"I love you," she sighed softly, nuzzling her face into his neck.

"I love you too," he whispered, and she felt him burying his face into her curls with a content sigh of his own.

She relished in this moment... Malfoy's warm embrace and whispered adoration, Leo's kicking, Lyra's faint giggles...

Hermione was happy, safe, and loved. This wasn't a typical happily ever after but it was enough for her.