Chapter Text
5 June 2001
Freedom.
Freedom was finally upon him.
He had spent three extremely long years in Azkaban.
The years had turned him into a man of sorts. Hermione joked often of how each time she came to visit him, he’d gained another half-stone of muscle, and how if he allowed his hair to grow any longer, she’d start braiding it like she did hers.
And best of all, within those three years, he’d found love. Genuine, forgiving, and honest love was something he’d never pictured for himself. As a child and teen, Draco had always known that he would end up with a marriage very much like his parents. There would be contracts, money exchanged, and expectations met. Love would be a happy accident, if it happened at all. Now, he had what he’d never allowed himself to hope for previously. Love from a girl who wanted him for him- not his Malfoy fortunes or title.
As the prison guard opened his cell for the last time, the reality of his situation finally hit him like a ton of bricks. Draco Malfoy was really leaving Azkaban.
Hermione had promised to pick him up, so she could settle him into his new studio apartment in Muggle London. They’d opted for living separately for the first six months to see if they could really do this... thing- relationship- outside of prison walls.
His mother was going to see him tomorrow afternoon in a cafe that she’d become aquatinted through Hermione and Potter’s guidance. Narcissa had told him that today, he could just enjoy his time with Hermione. She was allowing them privacy, and Draco thought that was the best birthday present he could have asked for from her.
The guard walked him through various hallways until he was in a room with shower stalls. “Okay, Malfoy, you’re allowed a shower with toiletries brought to you by your loved one. Your freedom begins now, mate.”
Draco stuck out his hand, and after a beat, the guard shook it. “I’m proud of you, young man. You’ve proved to be quite the individual, and I look forward to seeing what you can do.”
Draco felt tears press into his eyes. He pushed them back, and replied, “Thank you, Alvin. I’ve greatly appreciated everything you’ve done for me in here.”
The now twenty-one-year-old then turned his back to the man, and stepped into the shower stall.
Once inside, he found a bottle of muggle body wash that smelt of sandalwood and musk. Next to it, there was a shampoo bottle, a razor, shaving cream, and after shave in the same scent as the soap.
He quickly showered and shaved. It felt odd to be using such expensive products, since for the past few years, all he’d been granted was a bar of a muggle soap named Dial.
In comparison, this was exquisite. Draco had forgotten such simple luxuries, and he wondered how much of that would happen now that he was leaving this wretched place for good.
The clothing that had been chosen for him was of the muggle variety. He supposed it made sense, since he was now officially a squib until his birthday in 2006. The dark denims were snug on his now much more muscular frame, and the basic black tee fit much the same. He gazed at himself for a long time, not really recognizing the man in the mirror. He had changed on the inside, and he was thankful that his outside reflected a change as well. He never wanted to be associated with his former self again.
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Draco saw her the second they passed through the entry.
Hermione was wearing a pretty yellow sundress with a cream colored cardigan. Her mass of chocolate curls had been tamed into her two classic Dutch braids down her back. Two tendrils strategically hanging to accentuate her face. Her light makeup had been done to perfection. This warmed him greatly because he knew his witch never wore makeup or dresses. She’d gotten dressed up just for him.
Her full, pink lips turned into a giant beam once she saw him step through the door. “DRACO!” She all but screeched as she flew herself into his open embrace. Within seconds, her lips were on his. The rest of the room melted away, and it was just Hermione and Draco.
When they finally came up for air, he nuzzled his nose into her neck.
Cinnamon and vanilla- his lifeline for the past eighteen months.
“Hello, love. I’ve missed you,” his voice cracking as he whispered into her ear.
“I’ve missed you! Oh, Draco! You’re free, baby. You’re FREE!”
At this, the Malfoy heir picked her up, laughing and twirling her at once. When her feet were gently placed back onto the linoleum floor, she grabbed his hand tightly and strode to the exit desk. There, they both signed several documents and he was given back the few belongings he’d been arrested holding- besides his Hawthorn, of course.
They walked out of the building hand-in-hand, and slowly made their way across the beach to the small dingy that would take them back to civilization.
They stayed quiet for several minutes as the dingy quietly floated across the passage. Their fingers were entwined, but the rest of their bodies were separated by an ore. Half-a-meter sat between them.
Once land was finally seen, they looked at one another again.
“We’re going to be okay?” She asked hesitantly.
“As long as I’m with you, love, everything will be perfect- no matter what happens.”
The dingy landed on the beach just outside of a small magical village in Southern Ireland. Draco carefully helped Hermione out of the boat, and they started down the path to the village. Hermione took the thing she called a ‘cellular phone,’ and punched in a number.
“We’ve just landed, and are heading to the village now. You’ve made sure we’re safe to apparate without the entire ministry raining down on my boyfriend? Brilliant! Thank you, Harry. Yes, love you too.”
She then pressed another button and tucked the phone into her pocket. “Alright, baby! I’m free to apparate you this once all the way to Muggle London, and then it’s muggle transportation after that. You ready?”
“Haven’t been readier for anything in quite some time.”
Hermione looked up at him and smiled her brightest smile. “To our future and new adventures, Dray!” When she finished her statement, she grabbed him around the waist, kissed him passionately, and held on tightly. Suddenly, Draco felt the familiar tug of apparition, and three apparition points later, he could hear the loudness that was London Proper.
She gave him a minute to be sick, since he hadn’t used that mode of transportation in quite sometime.
After she cleaned his vomit from the alley, she freshened his breath and gave him a tiny peck at the corner of his mouth.
“Better?”
“Better. Let’s get our life started, sweetheart.”