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“Golden Girl—Vanishes during Battle of Hogwarts”
That was 5 years ago. Yet Draco Malfoy gazed at her photograph in the Daily Prophet from May of 1998 from time to time. Actually almost everyday.
It'd been a rough 5 years, rounding up Death Eaters and spying for the new and improved Ministry. Harry Potter had died in the battle along with Voldemort. It was a win and a terrible loss. But soon enough, the Wizarding world moved on. Everyone went on with their lives. Even the Weasleys moved on. Draco’s father was in Azkaban and his mother went to live with her sister, Andromeda while raising Teddy. They sold Malfoy Manor. There were no more threats as big as Voldemort's but Draco was still stuck in 1998.
Everyone had moved on but him. He stared at her youthful face. She was 18 in the magical image, would've been 24 today. He'd known Ron Weasley had searched for Hermione far and wide with the help of his siblings. Draco didn't really remember the relationship Ron Weasley shared with Hermione. All he knew was that they once had a fling.
Eventually, even the Weasleys gave up. Thankfully for her memory, she'd remained a hero in the papers and on the cards that came with the Chocolate Frogs. Draco kept 3 of them in a separate pocket with his wand holder.
Draco hadn't given up. He'd kept track. Followed the Weasleys everywhere like glue when they searched, but hidden himself in the shadows. He kept her cat, the ugly thing. He'd came across it just wandering on its own after the war. It reminded him of her when she'd walk around with it in 3rd year with a scowl on her face after getting into another fight with Weasley. He'd collected her clothes, anything that he could use to guide him to her. But he'd always fallen short somewhere. He'd end up finding a place she'd stayed in with Potter and Weasley during the war and stare at the ghostly traces of her face, the bags underneath her eyes, and her muggle clothing before she'd disappear.
He found her parents in Australia, living quiet lives while running their Dentistry business together. They didn't remember their daughter. And after it being 5 years, Draco knew they never would. He liked to stop by often, stare at her mother because he saw Hermione's face in her. And then he stopped, knowing it was wrong to watch and linger from a distance. He didn't want to scare them.
So he sat in his loveseat, trailing his finger around the rim of a half-empty glass of Firewhisky. And he'd gaze at the photo on the front cover of the Prophet from 5 years ago.
There was no proof that Hermione Granger was dead. Maybe she'd disappeared under some rubble at the battle. Or perhaps fallen from the bridge. The last time she was reported to be seen was before Potter had walked to his death in the forest. According to Ron Weasley, she'd ran after Potter then disappeared. Just like that. Vanished.
At first, Draco was furious. He'd fought hard, begging the Ministry to watch Ron's memories, see whether he was lying or not. Put him under Veritaserum. Anything. The investigation had gone on for an entire year. Week after a week a different witness would come in with a different story. And Draco would watch from the back, hidden yet listening. He'd sworn his allegiance to the Ministry in return and they'd hired him in a heartbeat. No one had known Draco's actual job except for him and whoever was in charge of his department.
After the case was closed, Draco resorted to continuing to look on his own. He'd scoured so many countries, he couldn't even count. Somedays he would pass out in some muggle hotel and wake up not remembering where he was.
He wondered if he'd wasted his time. If she was dead all along. If Hermione Granger wanted to show herself, she would've showed up by now. Was he crazy? Possibly.
Maybe it's because she's the only person in his life who ever put an ounce of interest in him.
He released a shaky breath, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the chair, dreaming of the time he finally saw Hermione Granger. Not as Granger the Mudblood. Not as the annoying witch who always aced him in class. Not as the irritating, little Gryffindor Muggle-born who would do anything to fight for her Order and save the fucking elves. He saw her. And that was the day Draco Malfoy knew he was done for. That he was hers and there was no going back.
And she had no fucking clue.
At least that's what he thought.
"Come on, Draco. Don't be a prat," Gregory Goyle hissed in his ear. "Kill her."
Draco flinched at the word, craning his neck to the side, away from Goyle's breath. Potter's furious eyes were glued to him, warning him as if to say, "Don't you dare". Meanwhile Draco's wand was trained on her neck. He had her backed into the Vanishing Cabinet and he watched her chest rise and fall with unsteady breaths.
Potter's wand had clattered away somewhere. Draco didn't remember if it was because Potter had clumsily dropped it or because he had disarmed him. But Draco didn't remember disarming them. Draco didn't even want to fight them. He just wanted his wand back.
"Draco!" Goyle hissed in his ear again. Draco stiffened, prodding Hermione Granger in the neck with his mother's wand. He watched her swallow, and her eyes locked with his. Something unexplainable passed between them. He hadn't noticed Potter start inching away toward his wand, or Ron Weasley barreling into the room. It was just a flicker of a moment. A small whisper but he'd heard her correctly.
"Draco. It's okay." It was simple and vague. It wasn't the type of okay where she meant he could go on and kill her. She'd known. She'd seen it in his eyes that here he was in the same position again, tears pricking his eyes because he didn't want to. He didn’t want this life of darkness. It struck him like lightning because Hermione Granger of all people understood. She'd understood that he was put under pressure and that he hadn't chosen this. It's okay, you're going to be okay, she'd said.
And then reality flashed before his eyes when Ron Weasley had disarmed him and grabbed her hand. They ran and he'd stood there frozen, watching the distance between them grow. She turned around again while Weasley dragged her, studying Draco's gaze with flushed cheeks and parted lips. And then she disappeared from his vision.
Soon enough, Goyle had set the place ablaze, dying in the process. Stupid fucking idiot. As the fire rose, Draco found himself next to Blaise Zabini, holding on for his dear life at the top of some chairs and tables. He watched her zoom past on a broom. He'd briefly recalled her struggling to ride one back in 1st year but it looked like she knew her way around it now.
She'd pulled to a stop mid-way after passing him then yelled something to Harry who had nodded in return. And even from that distance, they had locked eyes and he'd seen her making her way towards him before Potter cut in front of her and held out a hand. Draco jumped on without hesitation and then covered his face from the heat of the flames threatening to lick their dangling feet. When he turned his head, Hermione had grabbed Blaise and was following behind him and Harry closely while Weasley muttered something about killing Potter.
They all tumbled to the ground when they reached the end. He watched Hermione throw something to Harry before he stabbed the Diadem he'd been holding and Weasley kicked it into the flames blazing from the Room of Requirement. The floor shook as the doors closed and Draco stumbled to his feet, deciding that the logical option was to flee the scene with Blaise in tow right behind him.
But as he turned, he glanced around one more time to see Hermione Granger sitting up and staring at him with soulful eyes. As if she were thanking him for not killing her.
He'd hated himself for that simple look from her. And he never forgot the way she looked at him in that moment, like two enemies in a war that were secretly on the same side. He'd spared her so she had also returned the favor.
He realized he'd forgotten to say thank you.
She disappeared after that. He'd searched for her throughout the castle, desperately trying to get a glimpse of that messy braid, the Muggle denim jacket, face full of scratches and ash.
"Who are you looking for?" his mother had asked him when it was all over. She interlocked their hands even while he scanned the dead bodies, silently hoping she wasn't one of them.
"Hermione Granger. Have you seen her?" he felt himself blurt. He turned back to his mother who had her brows raised in surprise.
She slowly shook her head. "No, dear. I haven't."
His mother kept a close watch on him after that.
She'd never stopped. Even when he opened his eyes to find the moonlight pouring in and his mother tidying up the small space of his home, he'd known she would never leave her son alone in the shadows. No matter how much he wished to rot there.
"She saved me," he had told Narcissa as they walked home. "I could've die in that fire like Goyle, but she insisted. She risked her life and came back. Without hesitation."
Granted, it probably meant nothing to her. Possibly just a hero complex. But Draco couldn't erase it from his brain. He'd felt his hand slipping that night. The sweat pouring from his skin, the flames inching up further. The way she swallowed hard when he prodded her neck. No one had looked at him like that before and meant it.
"I would've cleaned myself. You didn't have to come," he uttered as he sat up in his chair.
"I know," said Narcissa. "Have you visited your father lately?"
"You already know my answer, Mother."
"I was just wondering," she said quietly. Draco pushed himself to his feet, placing a hand over his mother's wand arm and lowering it. He watched her shoulders sag.
"He means nothing to me."
"Draco-"
"He killed Theo, Mother."
She snapped her mouth closed, then bent her head low in a small nod. He hadn't known until his father's trial. He hadn't known until the Ministry had viewed his father’s memories and charged him with the murder of Theodore Nott. It was an accident, Lucius had said. He'd meant to hit Seamus Finnigan. But Lucius had been found guilty. It was not an accident and Nott Sr. had even witnessed it.
"How long are you going to do this, Draco?" his mother asked. She picked up the flimsy newspaper. Draco immediately summoned it from her fingers and it popped away in midair. "It's been 5 years."
"Mother-"
"Why don't you get married? I hear the Greengrass sisters are searching for spouses."
"The pair of them? Oh, lucky me! A 2-in-1 bonus deal.”
Narcissa sighed while waving her wand, lighting up the rest of his house with magical lights. "I can't...I can't watch you wither away like this. It's gone too far. You've made no improvement. You haven't a clue as to where she is. Maybe she'll never be found. Maybe she doesn't want to be found, Draco. Maybe she's..." her voice broke off, saddened eyes finding Draco's.
"Dead?" Draco chuckled half-heartedly. "It's okay. You can say it."
Narcissa sighed, raising a hand and cupping her son's cheek. She wrinkled her nose. "You need to shave."
Draco released a low laugh, turning his jaw further into her palm before placing a delicate kiss in it. "How's Aunt Dromeda? And Teddy?"
"Well. They miss you."
"Tell them I said hello."
Narcissa scowled. "Draco, you mustn't distance yourself from the family you have left."
Draco began clearing the rest of his kitchen, ignoring his mother's words. She watched him as he cleaned the plates, Scourgifying each and every one of them. He set the final plate away when Crookshanks trotted into the room, jumping up onto the counter with a quiet purr and glancing between them. Narcissa laid a hand over the ginger colored cat, brushing its fur while lost in thought.
"Would you like to stay the night?" Draco offered.
Narcissa pursed her lips. "If I do, will you stop looking for Hermione Granger?"
He stiffened. He hadn't really heard anyone utter her name before him because frankly no one really knew of his feelings for her. But the way her name rolled off his mother's tongue, reignited the feelings all over again. And then he was imagining her soulful eyes, glimmering up at him with hope. In some dreams, she even touched his cheek while wearing that dreadful muggle hoodie and beaten white shoes.
He cleared his throat, returning his gaze back to his mother. He noticed some small crinkles had formed beside her eyes. A sign of aging. "No," he whispered. He turned away, fleeing from the kitchen and stalking up the stairs. Crookshanks jumped from the counter, immediately scurrying after his owner without a care in the world.
Narcissa shed some tears before returning back to her sister's home.
About a week later, Draco decided to visit Hogwarts.
No, not to visit his classrooms, or take a sentimental stroll across the Quidditch Pitch. The place reminded him of death more than anything, really.
He pretended to revisit to speak to some First Years when really he came to look at a portrait that hung in the Gryffindor stairwell.
When classes were in session, he hopped up the moving staircases and planted himself in front of a familiar gold frame, patiently waiting for the girl inside of it, who was (of course) reading a book, too occupied to notice him.
"You're back," she said without looking up. Or perhaps she'd already sensed his presence.
"Yes."
"You know, Draco, instead of taking such a long journey back here you could always request to bring me back to your own headquarters."
"Headquarters." Draco chuckled, leaning against the staircase lightly. He watched an 18 year old Hermione Granger place her book down and glance up at him. "And is there a reason as to why you assume I own my very own headquarters?"
"Easy." She smiled, a small and simple one. Draco's heart thudded in his chest. "You're Draco Malfoy. You can have anyone, anything, everything."
"Not everything," he bit back. His stomach was churning. No one made him feel this way.
Hermione shook her head to herself. She placed her book on the table beside her. "Why are you here Draco Malfoy?"
"Because I'm looking for you."
"Why are you really here?" she asked instead. She stared at him through her lashes and even then Draco could hear his heart beating in his ears.
"You make me feel like I'm alive," he whispered.
Hermione giggled. She placed a hand to her mouth, trying to conceal her small giggles and Draco had to smile. Her eyes crinkled, her mouth stretched, the curls on her head bounced and she had to clear her throat and pretend to find poise.
"I'm just a portrait, Draco."
"I know."
"You have to go. You have to move on."
"But you're out there." He wanted to grip her face. "I know you are."
Hermione chuckled, standing from her chair and walking forwards towards the edge of the portrait, as if she wanted to reach over and grip his face as well. When Draco drew nearer, he noticed there were tears in her eyes.
"No one visits me as much as you do," she mumbled to him. "No one brings me as much joy as you do."
Draco was silent, quietly fighting back the knots twisting in his stomach.
"Take care of Crookshanks," she whispered before disappearing from the frame.
"Wait." Draco placed a hand on the empty frame, rattling it lightly, begging for her return, He scoured the portraits, asking them where she was hiding. They all shrugged their shoulders and said they didn't know. "Happy belated Birthday."
He heard a bell ring in the distance and the students flooded the staircases again. Some of the 6th and 7th year girls casted him flirtatious grins while others pushed past him hurriedly.
He didn't even realize he'd dragged himself back home until he collapsed back on his loveseat, pouring himself another glass of Firewhisky.
It was like he'd found himself right back where he'd started.
Another week later and he shook himself out of the sorrow, gathering himself and going to work, going outside, socializing, visiting what friends he had left. Still it was all a blur.
Mother was right, he was getting nowhere.
That's why he showed up at Pansy Parkinson's doorstep with a bottle of wine and a solid plan to end his suffering.
She raised her eyebrows after opening the door wider for him to enter. "I never thought I would ever see your face again, Malfoy." The door shut behind him and he gazed about the Parkinson manor. "Haven't seen you since Blaise's wedding."
"Yeah, well you know me. My schedule remains overloaded."
"I see." She smirked, taking the bottle of wine from him and gesturing for him to sit on her leather seats. "Finally decided to come out of your shell?"
Draco didn't sit. He stared at her, swallowing slowly and remaining expressionless. She closed the space between them, dragging her manicured nails along his chest and standing on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear.
"Or are you just here to shag me?" She nipped his ear.
He licked his lips and felt her push him backwards until he felt himself fall onto the leather sofas behind him. He landed softly, bracing himself with his hands. Pansy straddled his lap and began planting kisses along his jawline. He grasped her hips, and shoved her backwards. She nearly fell backwards on her arse.
"What the fuck?"
"I'm not here to shag you."
"Okay?" She dusted herself off, returning to her feet and crossing her arms over her chest. Her cheeks flushed bright red. "Why are you here then?"
"I need a favor."
"Why me?"
"Because you're the only person capable."
Pansy sucked in a breath. She narrowed her eyes. "That's...odd. Coming from you."
"I need you to kill me."
Pansy gasped, sputtering over her words, mouth opening and closing. "What?"
"I need you to kill me. I'd do it myself, but it'd cause my mother less pain if she thought I was murdered instead of deciding to take my own life."
"Wh-what." She shook her head in disbelief before composing herself. "And what makes you think that I am going to kill you? You think I want to?"
"Just slice my neck open. Or place a Silencing charm then Crucio me until I'm dead. Although I really do prefer it to be quick and painless-"
"W-wait a minute, hold on, fuck." Pansy grasped her head in frustration. "You've lost your head. You bring a bottle of wine and a literal death wish. Classic Draco Malfoy. You're fucking crazy do you know that?"
"Yes."
"I'm not—I'm not just going to kill you, Draco. I may have done it in the past, with others, but I'm not going to kill you."
His shoulders slumped. "Alright. I guess I'll just pay someone else to do it then. Enjoy the wine, it’s my father’s.”
"Why do you want to kill yourself!"
"Because." Draco gasped for breath. "Every single day is like living in hell. I can't...can't fucking take it anymore, Pansy. I'm just...I give up. I finally give up. If you don't kill me, I'll just do it myself."
"I'm calling your mother."
"What? No! No, what the fuck are you doing-"
"Then sit the fuck down and talk to me, Malfoy."
He snapped his mouth shut. The way he always did when his mother always asked what was wrong.
"Have you tried Occlumency?" Pansy asked, raising her brows with hope. Draco straightened, taking her words into consideration.
"Actually...no. I haven't. Not since Snape died."
"Well, from what I remember that was one thing you aced at that Potter didn't," she snorted. She sat on the table in front of him, twisting the rings on her fingers. He noticed her hair had grown to her waist and almost smiled at the thought of when it barely touched her shoulders in 3rd year. "You just need a new hobby. Find something you actually want to do. Maybe get married, I mean Blaise did-"
"I'm not Blaise."
"Okay, I never said that. I was just giving an example-"
Draco stood to his feet. "This is ridiculous. I should go."
Pansy stood as well. "No."
He pushed past her, heading straight for her fireplace and glancing around for the Floo powder.
"Draco!" She darted forward, blocking his path from the fireplace and holding out her arms. "Promise me you won't...you won't..."
"Kill myself?"
"Yeah."
He inhaled deeply, a small smile tugging at his lips. "You were a shitty but good friend, Parkinson."
"Stop doing that." She lifted a finger, jabbing at his chest. "Stop talking as if I'm never going to see you again."
"Tell you what." He grasped her hand and pulled it from his chest. "How about we pretend we never had this conversation instead of me having to force myself to Obliviate you?"
She gasped, took a large step back, and gripped her head as if he we’re going to cast the spell at any moment. "You wouldn't dare, Malfoy."
"Tell me where your Floo Powder is and I won't."
She silently pointed to the spot above the fireplace and he gratefully reached for it. "Cheers.” He grinned before calling out for his aunt's residence and disappearing in the flames. He didn't know why but perhaps he should pay them a goodbye, right?
He found Teddy on the couch flipping through a book and struggling to read.
"Uncle Draco!" The little boy blurted, throwing the book to the side and running into his arms. Draco scooped up the blue-haired boy and cuddled him to his chest. He was warm and familiar and Draco suddenly felt bad.
"Hey, Teddy," he chuckled. "Where is your grandmother?"
"She's up in the attic with Gran Cissy. I think they're cleaning. They said I wasn't allowed." He pouted and folded his arms.
"Well, maybe they have a reason," he said, placing a quick kiss to the boy's head before heading towards the attic.
"Watch out for Poffle! They've been hiding up there!"
"Thanks, Teddy."
It was hard to say goodbye to an innocent child.
Draco found his aunt and mother, sitting in a pile of dust-filled boxes and clothes. His mother was fast asleep over one box while his aunt was flipping through a book, glasses perched on her nose.
"Aunt Dromeda," he whispered. The woman snapped her head up, a bright smile adorning her face at the sight of Draco. She struggled to get to her feet but Draco held out a hand, urging her to sit. He walked over and bent low on his knee to place a kiss on her cheek. Andromeda's eyes glittered.
"It's so good to see you, Draco," she whispered while cupping his chin.
"And you," said Draco. He glanced around at the mess of boxes and clothes. "What's all this?"
"Oh, I was clearing out some of Nymphadora's things, a few things Remus left behind, and some stuff of Harry's that he'd left here...before the battle." She pointed to a box in the corner and Draco followed her gaze, silently listening. "I thought it was about time to let go of some these items and Cissy agreed to help. And now I'm just sitting here, reminiscing while she naps." She held up a small photo album, gesturing to a baby Nymphadora Tonks.
"May I?"
Andromeda nodded, handing him the album while sifting through more parchment, possibly from Tonks' Hogwarts days. He flipped through, watching the little girl grow up into the fierce Hufflepuff with fiery hair. She was his cousin but he had barely known her. Apart of him felt bad. For never getting the chance to get to know his Muggle-born uncle and Half-blood cousin. He rested the album on the floor next to Andromeda then curiously headed for the box labeled 'Harry Potter'.
He glanced back, checking to see if his mother was awake or if Andromeda was watching him. But they were both occupied. His mother still asleep, his aunt running her fingers over aged items.
Draco knelt to his knees and pulled out some clothes (he was surprised Potter even had any). He placed them to the side then came across his Hogwarts robes from over the years, some parchment and quills, and a Puffskein that jumped out at him. He batted the creature away and continued digging. He came across Quidditch books and Harry's Gryffindor uniform before noticing the Firebolt lying behind the box.
Draco walked over, picking it up and remembering the first time he'd seen Potter take off on it.
"You can have it."
He shifted, craning his head back to his aunt. "What?"
"You can have it," she smiled.
"I reckon Ginny Weasley would want it more," he replied, tucking the broom back in its spot. "I'm surprised you even own so much of his stuff."
"Yes, well his muggle family, they were never fond of him or anything magic related. And Harry had temporarily decided to keep his belongings with me. Ginny paid a few visits, but decided that she'd rather have me keep them if she were to move on eventually. I heard Ron's engaged by the way."
"Oh."
Draco peered in the box again, pulling out a book that he guessed contained pictures of Harry's friends and family. He decided not to snoop through until a random thought occurred to him. He flipped open the book, ignoring the page of Harry's parents before flipping to the next. His eyes fell on a First Year Hermione Granger almost immediately. She was giggling in the photo. He flipped and progressively watched Hermione age in all her pictures with Harry and Ron.
He stared at the one from 3rd year. They were all laughing, the three of them. Her nose was scrunched up and she was wearing a winter hat that hid half her curls. He smiled at it until he noticed a final piece of parchment at the bottom of Harry's box.
Setting the album down, Draco grasped the parchment and opened the flaps with confusion.
It was blank. He checked the back, the front, anything. But it was blank. He began to discard it until his aunt stood over him and murmured, "The Maurader's Map."
"The what?"
And then Andromeda jumped into the explanation of the map and its creations and Harry's claim over it. Draco stared at it in wonder. Harry had a map of Hogwarts this entire time. He wasn't even surprised. For some reason, Draco itched to use it. To see what it was like to be in Potter's shoes carrying around a magic map.
"May I borrow it?"
He brought it home with him, studying the blank parchment and turning it over in his hands, all thoughts of his conversation with Pansy suddenly lost.
"Oh, thank Merlin you're alive."
He jumped, nearly dropping the parchment. Draco found Pansy on his couch. Crookshanks sat on the opposite one, watching her practically like a statue. The cat whipped its head at Draco, hopping down and immediately trotting over to him. Draco scooped him up and scowled at Pansy.
"Next time. Knock."
"I needed to make sure you wouldn't blow yourself up."
"I told you to forget our conversation, Pansy."
"Why do you have Granger's cat?"
He froze. "Er—it's a long story." She didn’t need to know about his search for Granger.
"What's that?" She gestured to the parchment.
"Nothing it's just some spare parchment."
"I'm daft, but not that daft, Draco." She snatched it from his hands. "I mean what is it?"
"None of your business!" he snatched it back. "Will you please leave now?" For fucks sake, he was even asking nicely.
"You won't kill yourself?"
"No. I won't fucking kill myself." Crookshanks pawed at his face. "Will you leave now?"
"Swear to me you won't, Draco," said Pansy. "I'm serious. If you left, I'd honestly cry. Have you ever seen me cry?"
"Yes, in Fourth Year. Now quit flattering me."
"I'm serious!"
"Fine! I promise! I won't kill myself."
"Good," she smirked as she headed for his fireplace. "Oh, and for the record." She reached for his Floo. "I'm gay." She chuckled before dropping the Floo Powder and disappearing in the green flames.
Draco raised his eyebrows, staring at the empty fireplace before glancing back at Crookshanks who was now pawing at the parchment. He set the cat down.
"No, no. That's not for you, you silly cat." He stared at Crookshanks who remained next to him, refusing to leave his side. "You're getting quite clingy, aren't you? I don't recall you ever doing that at Hogwarts with Grang-"
Draco dragged himself back to Hogwarts another week later, only because he needed to see her one more time. He shoved Crookshanks in a small shoulder bag and conjured up an excuse to visit his former professor, now Headmistress, McGonagall.
"Back so soon?" were the first words she uttered to him when he found himself in her office. He froze in his tracks, awkwardly beginning to shuffle his feet back and forth while he placed a hand over his bag.
"I'm here to see you."
"Miss Granger has been anticipating your arrival." McGonagall didn't even glance up from her work.
Draco reddened. "Oh?" he murmured quietly. "Didn't think...after last time..."
"She faces deep regrets for running away like that in front of you. She wishes to be your friend."
"Right.” He stared at the floor.
"Draco, you don't have to waste your time talking to me. Go on, now."
Draco thanked her and twisted on his heel, heading straight for the familiar stairwell. He greeted some professors on the way, brushing past students who shot him sideways glances. And then he was in front of her frame again, heart thudding louder than last time.
"Hi."
"Draco!" Hermione Granger from the portrait set her book down. Draco felt Crookshanks shift in his bag. "You came back!" She grinned wildly, jumping up from her seat in the process.
"Of course. I brought something I wanted to show you."
"Look, about last time I-"
"Just don't worry about it," he replied with a reassuring tone. Hermione closed her mouth and nodded, clasping her hands together and swaying with giddiness.
"Well, first." He opened the flap of his bag. "Look who I brought." He lifted Crookshanks from his bag and held him in front of the portrait.
Hermione gasped. "Crookshanks!" she squealed while placing a hand to her mouth. Draco watched her eyes flood with tears as she began speaking to the animal. "He's quite clever, isn't he?"
"He surprises me every time."
Crookshanks mewled at Hermione, craning his head to look at Draco before glancing back at Hermione and mewling again, pawing at the frame. Hermione chortled with tears. "He was always there for me.”
"Hm," Draco simply said in return. "I have something else for you." He placed Crookshanks back into his bag then pulled out the folded parchment. Hermione's eyes immediately brightened in absolute awe.
"No. Is that..."
"The Marauder's Map?" Draco grinned while waving it. "I found it in Andromeda's closet."
"Are you going to keep it?" she asked suddenly, eyes flitting back up to Draco's. Crookshanks popped his head out from the bag and began pawing at the parchment.
"No," he replied earnestly. "No, not at all. I just wanted to test it out...but mostly show you." He wanted to see her reaction. The way her eyes would brighten, and her mouth would stretch into a smile.
"Well go on, then," she whispered. "Try it out."
He smiled proudly and nodded before prodding his wand at the map and whispering, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
The ink stained the paper and Draco and Hermione watched as the lines of Hogwarts began to form. Hermione giggled with excitement, verbally reminiscing about her times with Harry. Draco noticed McGonagall's name in the corner and Flitwick's in another corner of the parchment, in the middle of teaching a class.
"Hey look! There you are." Hermione pointed and Draco dragged his eyes down, locating his name, seeing it overlap another.
"Interesting."
"Who's that right below you?"
Draco squinted his eyes, prepared to say it was possibly another student before his breath caught in his throat at the name.
Hermione Granger.
He stared back up at the portrait, an incredulous laugh falling from his lips. "Well shite, I didn't think this included portraits as well."
"It...doesn't." He snapped his head back up to Hermione who was still eyeing the paper with a furrowed brow. "That's not me."
Draco glanced around wildly, as if waiting to see Hermione Granger standing behind him. In human form or possibly a ghost? He didn't know.
"That...that's not possible..."
"If it was me, it would've shown me standing in front of you. But the map says...that Hermione Granger is standing in the same spot as you."
And then they both froze with realization, slowly glancing up and locking eyes with one another before glancing down at the cat in Draco's bag.
"No," he whispered with a shake of his head. "No, no, no. This can't be. I refuse." Tears pricked his eyes and Hermione stared at him with sorry in her expression.
"Take the cat out," she whispered while lifting a trembling hand to her lips.
"No," he whispered. "You're mistaken. This is Granger's cat. I f-found him in the forest that day."
"And did you ever wonder how it got there?"
Draco was silent. He stared at Hermione before he silently opened the flap and placed the cat on the ground, then shakily stared at the map, allowing Hermione in the portrait to see. The cat circled around him a few times, slowly and hesitantly. As if it knew.
Draco watched the map and sucked in a breath as he watched Hermione Granger on the map circle around him a few times. He gripped the staircase, his breath leaving his lungs. She stopped when the cat stopped.
"Draco..." Hermione murmured from the frame. He glanced up, eyes wide with panic and shock, all at once like a brick to the head. "Go," she whispered with teary eyes. "Go."
He didn't linger. He scooped up the cat and flew down the stairs, desperately pushing away the urge for a panic attack. He found an empty classroom and slammed the door shut with force before placing a Locking Charm, followed by a Silencing Charm.
"Fuck, fuck," he whispered. He placed the cat on a desk. "Granger, is it...is that really you? An Animagus?" he murmured shakily. "How can I be so fucking stupid?" He rattled his brain for a potion or something, closing his eyes to recall what he'd learned about Animagi. Or was it a simple Transfirguration spell? "Okay, breathe, breathe," he whispered to himself. Perhaps he should call McGonagall. Or Weasley? Wasn't he present when Potter had discovered Pettigrew? Draco racked his brain then placed his head in his hands with frustration.
"Granger, if you're in there you're going to have to show me how to fix you," Draco murmured to the cat. He placed it on the ground and it immediately ran for the door. He opened it and silently followed the cat whilst crashing into students on the way. Students yelped with confusion as the cat ran past them and it was then Draco noticed it was heading straight for the Hogwarts Library.
Of course, he thought to himself. He was sure there were plenty of books in there. He wished he remembered what McGonagall taught in Transfiguration Third Year but he was never interested in Animagi.
"Good afternoon, Madam Pince," Draco greeted as he flew past the woman with the long hooked nose. She opened her mouth in protest, eyes widening at the cat on the library floor, but Draco had already darted past her.
Draco skidded to a stop as he watched the cat scurry around a corner. He considered just asking the catalog but decided to follow the cat instead who appeared to know what it was doing. When he turned a corner, he saw the cat sitting on the ground, staring up at the long shelves of books. Draco followed its gaze, eyes landing on a book about Animagi.
He stiffened. "Granger what have you done?" he whispered while fingering the book. "Don't tell me you haven't been able to turn back in 5 years."
He brought the book to an empty table, ignoring the stares of some Fourth Year Ravenclaws while flipping through the pages.
"How do I turn you back?" he whispered. He stared at the Ginger cat. "Would a Finite work?" The cat pawed at the textbook. "Okay." He grabbed the book then ran out of the library with the cat tucked under his arm, ignoring the angry yells of Madam Pince. "Talk to McGonagall!" he shouted back.
He found himself in another empty classroom, this time bigger than the one he was in before. It appeared to be a Muggle Studies classroom judging by the books on the desk. He set the cat down on the teachers desk and flipped through the book.
"Well, all I see is how to turn into one." His eyes widened as he read over the instructions. "You went through all this? Mandrake leaf? Moon-struck phial, hair, silver teaspoon of dew—Granger when did—why?" He stared at the cat, as if waiting for it to respond. It appeared to be glaring at him but it always appeared to be glaring at him.
After what felt like forever, his eyes brightened when he finally got somewhere. "Here it is." He pointed. "Merlin, it's just a simple spell. Untransfiguration, a counter-spell for returning a transformed Animagus into their human form. Is that right, Granger?"
The cat pawed gently at Draco's hand, releasing a small purr.
"I searched the world for you and you were home this entire time?" he whispered, almost dumbfounded. He pointed his wand and closed his eyes, murmuring the spell in his head before a spark of bright blue light left his wand, shooting straight into the replica of Crookshanks.
He watched in horror as the cat enlarged in size, its bushy head forming into the bushy hair of a girl, arms and legs expanding to human form. His wand clattered to the floor as he stared at the girl—no woman—in front of him, sitting on the desk, staring at him with a terrified expression. She touched her face, her hair, her body before returning her gaze back to Draco with wide eyes.
"Draco..." whispered Hermione Granger. The real Hermione Granger.
Should he pinch himself? Was this real or another one of his wild dreams?
He stepped forward and she stumbled to her feet. She was still in her war clothes. Denim jacket, pink sweatshirt, black muggle bottoms. Her hair was still in a messy braid but she looked older than he remembered. The youth had left her face. She was a woman.
"G-Granger?" he whispered in disbelief.
She ran forward and he met her half way. They crashed into each other's arms. A shiver ran over Draco as his skin found her own. He paused for a moment before pressing her to his chest, coming to terms with how alive she was and in his arms. She was here, in the flesh, breathing. But she had always been here. He just hadn't known and the realization suddenly washed over him.
"I'm s-so sorry," he whispered in her hair, voice cracking. He hadn't cried. He hadn't ever cried since 7th year. He stroked her hair. "I didn't know—I—I'm so sorry, Hermione."
"Shhh," she whispered back, pulling back slightly to reattach their eyes. A small smile flickered to her lips. "You never stopped, Draco. You found me, I'm here. I thought I was going to lose you."
She'd known. She'd known he planned to kill himself.
He choked on tears and sobbed into her shoulders, digging his fingers into her hips and shaking. He didn't know if he was overwhelmed with sadness or relief. Here she was and she had saved him.
Hermione listened to him with trembling lips, dragging her fingers through his silky hair. She'd never heard him cry either. She never wanted to ever again.
When they quieted down, he still held her close as they slid to the floor. They leaned on the desk behind them and Hermione laid her head on his chest while Draco twirled her hair.
"How," he mumbled into her hair.
"I didn't mean to get stuck like this, of course." He felt her silently hiccup against his chest. "I'd been practicing for a while, while we were searching for horcruxes. It happened when I followed Harry into the Dark Forest. I wanted to stop him, but then Voldemort was there. I could've hid behind a tree, but we were surrounded. So I did the only thing I could think of in the moment. I transfigured myself into an Animagus. The spell went wrong when I realized Harry was dead before my eyes. I'd watched him die twice. Your mother offered to check the first time, but she was shoved out of the way by Bellatrix who had proven that he was still alive. I tried to change back, to defend Harry. But the spell had already gone wrong. And...and Harry died again. I was stuck...as Crookshanks. And then I found my way to the edge of the woods, I went to look for Ron but you'd found me instead. Way after Neville killed Voldemort.”
"I'm sorr-"
"No," she said. "You're the only person who would've figured it out, Draco."
"After 5 years! Five years. And I didn't think to ever—all it took was a simple Veritas Oculum to check if you were an Animagus and I never...I never did."
Granger laughed for the first time. She tilted her head up and pressed a firm kiss to the corner of his lips while Draco felt his cheeks heat up, the trace of her lips lingering.
"I don't know anyone who's loved me more than you, Draco."
They were silent, not knowing how long they stayed there in that classroom.
"Guess we should thank Potter for this," Draco said while holding up the map. He pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Mischief Managed." He pushed it back into his bag and pressed a kiss to Hermione's forehead. He pulled her closer, as if she wasn't close enough. "I guess we should tell everyone then."
"No," Hermione whispered sharply. "I mean, just a little longer. You're the only person in the world right now who knows I'm alive. I need it to be like this for just a few more minutes. Please."
"Okay," he replied immediately as a small smile tugged at his lips. "You’ve got all my time, Granger."
He heard her exhale a laugh against his chest and he wondered if she could hear his heart pumping with exhilaration.
"Do you mind putting a Cleaning Charm on me?"
"Of course not." He waved his wand and the mark under her eyes disappeared, her hair full and healthy again and he transfigured her clothes to replace the ones she'd been wearing. He'd draped a cloak around her shoulders, to keep her warm on the chilly day of Autumn. He sucked in a breath with awe. She was beautiful...more beautiful than before.
Hermione pursed her lips, thanking him quietly and smiling down at his Dragon hide shoes. She ran her fingers over his knuckles and interlocked their hands.
Draco cupped her chin and kissed her slowly. He moved his hand back so he could grip her tightly by the back of her neck and tilt her head upwards. She kissed him back with almost the same force, releasing their interlocked hands and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, arching her back into him.
He trailed his lips away from hers and moved her hair to expose her neck. He pressed quick pecks of adoration into her skin. She sighed into him, gripping the collar of his shirt pleadingly.
"Mine," he murmured possessively. He pressed his lips to her jaw and peppered his way down. "All mine." He tugged her head backwards, moving her shirt to the side and softly nipping at her skin. "I'm so sorry, Hermione." He whispered to her, over and over again. He continued to kiss her, feeling the salt of his tears trickle down her skin.
Oh, how much he'd longed to do that for the past few years. How much he'd yearned to run his fingers through her curls and taste her soft skin. He wanted to taste her and savor her slowly, listen to the rhythm of her breaths and have them mingle with his own. It was crazy of him, yes. But they were both a little crazy on the inside.
Hermione pulled her head back and cupped his face. She pressed her lips to his and wiped his tears then presented him with that soulful smile of hers. He could see it more clearly in her eyes now, as she held his face and used her other hand to fist his collar.
"I'm yours, Draco." She pressed another kiss between his eyes. "I'm yours."