Work Text:
"Bo!"
A wet kiss wakes her up and she bolts out of bed as it’s so unexpected. She wipes her cheek with the sleeve of her pyjamas and glances at the bedside clock.
“Bo, you woke me up just ten minutes before my alarm,” she whines, but Bo is already so happy and excited to see her up from the bed that Hermione just shakes her head and grabs the outfit she prepared for the morning walk. Her soft spot for Bo is too much sometimes.
Hermione quickly puts on the sweats and jumper, tucking her wand into the messy bun she made the previous evening. Bo is already on the ground floor, most probably waiting by the doors. She walks downstairs and is once again greeted by the little dog. She scratches her behind the ear and grabs the leash and harness.
The air is brisk and makes her eyes water, her cheeks immediately reddening because of the chill. It's surprisingly dry for a morning in London, and the air pollution seems to have improved with the recent rise in temperature and reduction of the usage of fireplaces in the mostly Muggle neighbourhood.
They go around the little park, waving hellos to other dog owners and morning runners and bikers. Bo tries to eat a rock and barks at a shameless cat, who just happens to lay in the middle of a driveway on their way back and coldly ignore Bo's rage.
Back home, Hermione takes a five-minute shower and dresses for work, deciding to eat her breakfast oatmeal leisurely on the little terrace and soak up even more of the shy, but warm sun rays. There is a long day ahead of her and with a final kiss to Bo's brow, she leaves in a hurry.
She spends the entire day up to her neck with paperwork, with a short break in the form of lunch with Harry, who is all giddy because of Ginny’s pregnancy. With only thirty minutes to spare, they sit in a corner of the Ministry canteen, talking in hushed voices over roasted chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy.
The whole day of sitting, even with a properly cast Cushioning Charm on all the chairs still gives her back pain and the only thing on her mind is a jog with Bo. Harry at least has some physical exercises as an Auror, the most she gets is a walk from her desk to her boss’ office with an armful of papers.
She Apparates back to her house, landing in her yard. The wind is strong and it must have rained while she was gone, since the grass is wet and slippery. As usual, she reaches for the window handle to open it with an Alohomora , but the doors open without the spell even before she touches it, a gust of wind almost ripping it out of the hinges.
She forgot to lock it in the morning.
Her heartbeat quickens as all the possible scenarios rush through her head. The Human-presence-revealing spell comes back negative, so even if someone did break-in, they were already gone.
“Bo? Come here, pup!”
Hermione walks through her house, her hands shaking more and more as the only sound she hears is her own steps. No barking, no clicking sound of little claws against the floor.
“Bo!”
Hermione checks the kitchen, the bathroom, the front yard, the living room. Everything is there in its place, not a speck of dust moved. She rushes upstairs, and there is still no sight of Bo. She’s not under the bed, which is her favourite hiding place, or in the laundry basket. Hermione gulps, another wave of panic washing over her. She decides to check the backyard again to no avail. Her dog is gone.
The first twenty minutes of her arrival at Grimmauld are spent with her crying into Harry’s shoulder. When she calms down a bit, Harry and Ginny offer to go back to her house and try to walk around the area, maybe ask the neighbours.
Ginny notices that Bo’s harness is not hung next to the leash, and Hermione inhales sharply.
“I only take off her harness for the night,” she says and a weight pulls off of her shoulder. “Her name tag is there, with the number to my landline. I forgot about it, I panicked and-”
Harry grabs her by the shoulders. “Hermione, it’s okay. How about Gin and I will go search for her and you stay here and wait for the phone call? Or do you want to go?”
“I would rather go. I want to search for her.”
“I want the phone duty, the Potter kid is killing my back,” Ginny says.
“Do you remember how to use the telephone?” Hermione asks and Ginny demonstrates, proving she does. “We will send you a Patronus if we find her.”
Hermione and Harry go around the park and all the other of their usual walk routes. All of the familiar faces they encounter promise to keep an eye for Bo.
Hermione sniffles all the way back, Harry’s arm over her shoulders. He assures her that somebody must have called and Ginny waits for them and that they will see Bo in an hour at most.
She really wants to believe that.
She spends the night on the couch so as to be closer to the telephone and the yard doors in case Bo comes back. Harry and Ginny offered to stay with her, but she dismissed them and told them to get a good rest and come back the next day. Thank Merlin it’s the start of the weekend and she doesn’t have to go to work. She’s not sure she would be able to leave her empty house while Bo is still gone.
Harry’s Patronus wakes her up and tells her that he, Ginny and George will come by around noon to help with the search.
She dresses and makes herself some toast, managing to swallow it piece by piece while a trashy movie plays in the background. She didn’t get much quality sleep the previous night and just when her eyelids start to get too heavy, the phone rings.
Immediately, she picks it up. “Hello?”
“Hello, am I speaking with Bo’s owner?”
She could burst into tears upon hearing the question.
The man on the phone sounds familiar, but the only thing on her mind is the fact that Bo’s been found and that she’s safe and sound. She writes down the address and ends the phone call saying she will be there in 20 minutes.
She sends a quick Patronus to Harry with the news and grabs the car keys and the dog leash. Bo has managed to cover quite the distance and even driving there will still take some time.
The red Ford Sierra she drives has most definitely seen better times, but as she steps on the accelerator it complies and soon enough she arrives by the given address. It’s a semi-detached house with the typical, British red brick on the exterior. As she stands in front of the doors with only the leash in her hand, she wishes she had thought about getting at least some chocolates for the founder of Bo.
“Hi, I’m -” she starts as the front door opens, but then she recognises the person.
Draco Malfoy stares at her dumbfounded, his mouth agape, and she’s sure her expression is not much better.
She bites her tongue before a curse word manages to leave her mouth. Draco Malfoy is the last person on Earth she expected to see. Merlin, even Voldemort would be less of a surprise. He at least had a history of reappearing after years of people believing he’s dead.
“You’re here for Bo, right?” he manages to croak out, his voice much deeper than she remembers.
She blinks a few times before nodding, finally letting herself let out the breath she didn’t realise she was holding. He steps to the side to let her in.
The first thing she notices is the mustard velour corner sofa.
“Bo’s in the backyard with my dog.”
“Oh.”
Huh. Draco Malfoy also has a dog. When her eyes fall on the huge dog bed next to the marble fireplace, her mind instantaneously imagines a huge rottweiler or doberman called Salazar swallowing Bo in one bite and she pales a bit.
“Um, are you coming?” he asks, and she turns as he is now standing next to the backdoors. She hasn’t even seen him move.
He opens the doors when she’s next to him. He smells faintly of soap and leather, his shirt is perfectly ironed and she unconsciously tugs on the sleeve of her old, worn-out jumper, intimidated by the overall elegance of both the place and the homeowner. All those thoughts go out the window when she notices Bo zooming around a tree, her tongue out and tail wagging.
She immediately rushes towards her. “Bo!”
Bo barks and wags her tail so quickly that Hermione laughs that she will fly away. But Bo just sprints right into her arms and Hermione picks her up from the ground and holds her close to her chest, peppering the wiry hair with kisses. Bo is so excited she wiggles from her nose to the end of her tail, trying to lick as much of Hermione as she can reach. She accepts the kisses with a wide smile, and crouches so it’s easier for Bo, laughing as the dog starts to bark from all the pent-up emotions.
Hermione only remembers where they are when she hears a sharp whistle behind her.
"Aquila! Come here, girl!"
Something white and fluffy darts in Hermione's peripheral vision and she’s so surprised she loses her balance and falls on her butt, the wet and cold grass making her track bottoms uncomfortable. Bo chases the other dog and Hermione laughs wholeheartedly, the size difference considerable but her little puppy doesn’t care and tries to catch the attention of what looks like some kind of greyhound or, at least, most definitely not a rottweiler.
Aquila chases Bo back and the two of them fight over a stick that’s roughly twice the size of Hermione’s Border Terrier. The backyard is vast and full of such sticks and some other clearly dog-related items, such as balls or plush toys. She even notices a few holes in the ground.
Finally, Hermione stands up and tries to shake off some of the dirt from her bottom. She will have to dry her trousers with a spell before sitting anywhere.
With her arms crossed across her chest, she watches the dogs play with each other and narrows her eyes. Aquila is very tall and lean, but the way she runs is bizarre, it’s very jumpy for a dog of her physique. Only when Malfoy whistles again and this time Aquila decides to run to him, Hermione finally notices she misses a front leg and her eyes widen.
Malfoy pats Aquila’s side and the dog stares lovingly into his eyes, her weirdly long snout almost touching his nose as the man is bending over her. Hermione stares at them, still processing what’s happening and where she is. When Aquila walks into the house, Bo runs right after her.
Hermione feels very out of place, painfully aware that Malfoy is trying to peek at her. Clearing her throat, she walks up to him and he once again steps to the side, letting her enter first. She quickly Scourgifies her clothes and shoes before coming in, though.
“Would you like some tea, perhaps?” Malfoy offers, nonchalantly leaning sideways on the kitchen island. Damn him, his kitchen is so pretty. She always wanted a kitchen island like that.
“Oh, I don’t want to impose, thank you,” she just sputters.
Malfoy just offered her tea. Draco Malfoy offered her tea. Draco Lucius Malfoy, prince of Slytherin and the bane of her schooldays, has a mustard couch and a huge disabled dog, and has offered Hermione Granger tea.
“Oh, and thank you for finding Bo!” Hermione throws her hands in the air. “Merlin, I got so worried when I came back home and she wasn’t there, Harry and I searched through the entire neighbourhood for her. I couldn’t sleep last night, I was so anxious! I actually live on the other side of Maida Vale, I even drove here, you probably saw the car -”
She stops when his eyebrows reach so high they’re almost completely hidden under his messy hair, which is still so white they could probably blind a man.
“Sorry,” she says sheepishly, her cheeks reddening. “I’m blabbering. But really, thank you so much. Thank you.”
“No problem.” He just shrugs and points to their dogs, now focused on trying to pull a rope toy out of the other’s mouth, Bo’s fighting to stay on the ground with at least her hind legs. “As you can see, Bo quite enjoys her stay.”
Hermione looks up from the dogs to smile at him. He’s surprised and doesn’t return the smile, which makes Hermione avert her gaze from him, but she’s almost sure she catches a bit of warmth in his stormy eyes before she does so.
“You’re joking.”
Hermione just hums and shakes her head, as her mouth is full of mashed potatoes.
“Why would I joke about it, Harry?” she asks as she swallows. “I'm serious, Draco Malfoy lives on the other side of Maida Vale in a ridiculously nice house like a complete Muggle, has a three-legged greyhound and -”
“And a mustard sofa, yes, I heard.” He chuckles.
She kicks him under the table, pouting. “You’re laughing at me, but trust me, if you had seen it -”
“Hermione, no one has seen Malfoy since his trials. Merlin, we were probably the last ones to see him, there at St Mungo’s! That was almost six years ago!”
Hermione looks around, thankful for their secure little corner in the Ministry cafeteria.
“Listen, the fact that no one from our community heard from him means nothing. If he wanted to disappear from the public, he managed it perfectly.”
Harry raises his brow. “Hermione, they posted an obituary for him in the Prophet.”
She doesn’t really know what to answer to that, so she changes the subject. “His dog is so adorable.”
Harry grins devilishly. "Yeah, a super cute dog and a mustard sofa !"
She grits her teeth.
The week passes quickly and Hermione spends every free moment of her time researching Draco Malfoy.
She digs out all the issues of the Prophet since May 1998 that have the name Malfoy in it. She reads about the trials, about the Dark Mark disease and then, the infamous obituary.
One tiny corner with information, three sentences about his life. There is no exact date of death though, just the month November and year.
She remembers that time vividly. She just came back to London from Australia after failing to restore her parents’ memories. She was heartbroken, jet-lagged and overworked. Harry and Ron found her trashing in her sleep on the couch at Grimmauld with that issue of the Prophet in her hands. They spent three weeks cooped inside the house, each of them fighting with their own demons as they had finally let themselves feel their emotions for the first time since the end of the war. They held Harry when he screamed at the unfairness of his life. They held Ron when he cried for Fred. They held her when she wailed, reliving her torture, scratching at her scars.
It is Ron who first suggests getting help and she will always be thankful for that.
She rubs her eyes and yawns. It’s Friday evening and she hugs Bo tighter into her side. That time last week she was frantically searching for her.
And somehow, she doesn’t dream a single dream that night.
Two weeks later Ginny has her Baby Shower and Hermione comes back home a bit drunker than she should have been. It is Fleur who passes her a bottle of elf wine under the table and away from Ginny’s sharp gaze, but they don’t manage to hide it for long when their giggles become too much. Ginny swears revenge.
Bo greets her as usual and then starts barking at the kitchen window. She follows her dog there and lets a beautiful, great-horned owl into her house. The owl doesn’t linger, she just drops a letter and flies right out.
Hermione sways a bit and carefully eyes the envelope. The parchment is creamy and stiff, and when she turns it, she sees it says it’s for Bo.
“You won’t be angry I’m reading your private conversation, will you, girl?” she asks Bo, who is sleepily lounging on the couch.
The stupid giggles come back when she reads the letter.
“Bo, Aquila invited you over for a playdate. What do you say?”
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
They stare at each other awkwardly when he lets her inside. She lets Bo off the leash and the dog happily greets the blond, jumping at his legs. “I’ll let Bo out, Aquila is sunbathing. Please, make yourself at home. I already prepared tea in the kitchen.”
She nods and walks to the kitchen island, unpacking the cake mould with still warm carrot cake and a container with frosting on the counter.
“I baked a cake,” she says when she hears him walk up to her. He’s surprised, but walks up to one of the cabinets and takes out two plates and two little cake forks. “Once again, thank you for finding Bo. And for the invitation.”
He sits on a barstool next to the island and she follows, sitting on the other side of the counter. “I need a knife. And a spoon, I brought frosting in another container.”
When he stands up again, she lets herself have a good look at him. He’s wearing a grey jumper and it has a more loose cut than the shirt he wore last time she saw him. His black slacks are covered in white dog hair. He looks relaxed. She even dares to cast a glance at his left arm.
She watches as his eyes sparkle with the first bite and she chuckles. “Do you like it?”
He finally smiles. It’s a small smile, but his entire face lights up. He grew into his pointy features and his overall look is much amiable, less pretentious and dark prince-y. She slides the frosting container over the counter and he puts more of it on his slice.
“You still have a sweet tooth,” she blurts out before she can control herself.
Malfoy snatches his head up from above the plate. “Huh?”
“I mean, you always snacked on sweets at Hogwarts,” she says, holding his gaze and feeling her cheeks redden. Malfoy doesn’t answer, just continues to eat.
Malfoy has garden furniture that, of course, is ridiculously nice, and they sit there, watching the dogs in silence. A permanent grin is glued to her face, the sun is nicely warm and she’s drinking one of the finest English Breakfasts of her life.
It’s a nice Saturday.
After, Malfoy scratches Bo behind her ear and asks the dog loud enough for Hermione to hear. “Would you like to repeat it next week?”
Next week, she brings apple pie. They exchange a few more pleasantries, but nothing too personal. He eats three slices and Hermione gets to sit on the mustard sofa for the first time.
She’s torn whether to tell anyone about her new acquaintance. Well, he isn’t new new. Plus, it is Aquila inviting Bo, not him inviting her.
The third time, she decides to try something different and she brings banoffee pie. It’s a rainy April day and the dogs aren’t that energetic, after an hour of tug of war they jump on the couch, where she and Malfoy sit and read books. Because Malfoy has a collection of books that could make her salivate, and it’s quite nice, just sitting there and reading across each other. It’s cosy.
And he wears glasses while reading. She almost chokes when she sees him in them for the first time.
She’s surprised when Aquila rests her long snout on Hermione’s thigh. The dog looks deep into her eyes and Hermione pets her white waves. Bo curls up on her other side.
“The Eagle,” she says and scratches an exceptionally good spot as Aquila groans, clearly enjoying herself. “The Black family name tradition.”
“Well, it’s not like I would name her after the dog star,” Malfoys murmurs back, his eyes not diverting from his book.
Hermione nods. She doesn’t want to talk about Sirius.
After a moment, she shifts again. “What kind of dog is she? A greyhound?”
“A borzoi. Basically a russian greyhound.”
“Never heard of borzoi’s.”
He chuckles. “Colour me surprised.”
Aquila stands up and walks on the couch, laying across Malfoy’s lap. He grunts and pulls her higher, the book falling down to the floor. Aquila must weigh over nine and a half stone, probably more than Hermione does, and she just watches as they cuddle while petting snoozing Bo.
Hermione bends to pick up the fallen book and puts it on the coffee table, right on top of the one that she was reading. “Would you like something? Tea, another slice of cake?” she asks as she stands up, taking her tea mug with her.
“Damn, Granger, you are spoiling me,” he says, much more silently than usual. She suspects it’s because of the added weight on his lungs. “Actually, tea would be perfect.”
She charms the teapot and in less than a minute she pours the brew into their mugs.
“What kind of name is Bo ?” he asks when she sits down again. Aquila is still on his lap, although her bottom has fallen off his knees to the sofa.
“What do you mean?”
“You saw that rat and thought ‘yeah, she’s a Bo’?”
“That rat ?” she scoffs and crosses her arms on her chest.
“She does look like a rat, come on, Granger.”
His tone is so teasing her hand is itching with memories of when she smacked him on the nose.
“For your information, Bo is a cute, shorter version. Her full name is Boudicca.”
Malfoy laughs so loudly her mouth falls wide open. She has never heard him laugh like that. It’s a deep, rich rumble, making her feel similarly like a soft blanket on an autumn evening, welcoming and pleasant, a complete opposite of the practised arctic-cold cackle he had when they were at school. She watches as he adjusts Aquila once again, his face relaxed.
“Alright, that is good. I shall ask for my forgiveness to the great queen, Boudicca herself.”
She shakes her head, amused. “You are joking, right?”
“Duh, Granger.” He rolls his eyes. “I find Bo very handsome. Love the beard. I might be even a little jealous of it.”
She frowns, but then breaks and laughs as well. Malfoy is smirking, visibly content. She feels warmth inside.
The fourth week (she made Madeira cake), they go on a walk together and she asks what’s his job. Bo and Aquila run in front of them.
“You first.”
She shrugs. “Nothing special. I work in the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry.”
“Are you happy?”
She gulps, taken aback.
“You know there is no easy answer to that question.”
They walk through the forest in silence for a moment after that, until Hermione repeats her question.
“Actually, Aquila is my assistant at my job.”
“What?”
He chuckles and throws a stick for the dogs. The forest near his house is blossoming and majestic, and can’t help herself but compare it to the little park she goes to for dog-walking.
“I work with children with physical disabilities.”
She didn’t expect that. “Woah.”
He ruffles his hair. “I know. My twelve-year-old self would probably piss himself at the thought of such work.”
“Or any work, actually.”
He chuckles bitterly. “You’re right.”
“Well, tell me more.”
This time, she’s the one to throw a stick. Bo is already panting, exhausted from keeping up with much larger Aquila.
Malfoy doesn’t answer for a moment.
“You were there, right? At Mungo’s?”
She nods. “Me and Harry, actually. We didn’t trust the Ministry then, and it felt… It felt like something we needed to do.”
He stops, his expression serious and solemn. “Thank you, Granger.”
She smiles softly and places her hand on his right bicep, his shoulder too high for her. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
They stare into each other's eyes and then resume walking.
“I actually completed my rehabilitation in a Muggle facility. And one of the therapists, he gave me information about this one place in France, they specialise in amputees. I was there for a year, but I wanted to go back to London. I went back to that first therapist, he recommended I get a dog as part of healing. And then, that same therapist asked me if Aquila and I are interested in helping others like me. I’m currently helping kids and teenagers after car crashes. But of course, Aquila is the real star.”
“I got Bo the same way." She shares. " And your work sounds incredible.”
“I feel like I make a difference, you know? And the kids are great.”
“I’m really happy for you.”
He smiles at her. His stormy eyes brighten up and her heart skips a beat.
When she’s leaving sometime later, the leash in one of her hands, she stalls on his porch. “Um, I won’t come next week.”
She sees his expression stiffen.
“I thought you wouldn’t,” he whispers back, his head low.
Once again, she brushes his right arm with her fingers. “Take care. And see you in two weeks.”
She leaves, her stomach uncomfortably twisting.
After coming back home, Hermione swiftly packs herself and Bo and then falls asleep. In the morning, she takes everything and Floos to Grimmauld. Ron is already there and they hug for a few minutes. Harry joins them and they all part with Ginny, who takes Bo to stay with her at the Burrow. Hermione knows Harry is torn, Ginny can give birth any time now, but it's the redhead that convinces him to stay with his friends.
There's a week until May 2nd. And the three of them plan to spend it together as usual.
She always uses her sick leave around that time so as not to worry about her job. She levitates mattresses from upstairs bedrooms to put in the living room as Harry and Ron push around the furniture. They always sleep next to each other. It helps with nightmares that sometimes still come during the beginning of May.
The week passes by with them eating the nicest food they can order with house delivery and long talks. It's this time of the year, undoubtedly the hardest of all months, that brings them together. They catch up, they retell stories, they reminisce about the fallen. She misses Bo like crazy but knows she wouldn't be able to take care of her properly. She also finds she misses her snarky Saturday companion.
Ginny sends Harry three Patronuses a day, assuring him she's alright. Hermione sobs after each one, so happy and relieved Harry has someone who loves him so much.
Daisy, Ron's girlfriend, sends him one every evening with a simple I love you . Hermione sobs again, so proud of Ron’s journey.
On Saturday, she misses Bo the most. They can't sleep and spend the night watching the stars on the roof.
Then, May 2nd comes. She feels a painful tug at her heart the entire day and doesn't let her friends go further than three steps away from each other.
As each year, hundreds of owls come, bearing letters of gratitude. Only Ron has the energy to read them.
Hermione sends only one Patronus that evening, from the privacy of closed bathroom doors. She advises her little otter to deliver the message only when he’s alone.
By Monday morning everything is back to normal. Ginny comes around noon, Bo making little laps of excitement seeing Hermione. She doesn't want to let the dog go from her arms.
After dinner, Hermione and Ron leave.
She goes to therapy on Tuesday. They talk about coping mechanisms and Malfoy.
On Wednesday, she's back at work. Twenty-four people at the Ministry thank her for her part in the war.
On Friday evening, Ginny's labour starts. At first, St Mungo's is full of Weasley's and friends, but by the sixth hour of no progress only Hermione, Ron and Molly stay.
James Sirius Potter is born on May 8th at four pm, after almost 24 hours of labour. Hermione is so moved and happy, seeing the little bundle in the freshly made parents arms, that she has a burst of accidental magic and changes the hospital corridors walls from a mousy grey to sunshine yellow.
Molly makes her leave the hospital to get proper rest and at first, Hermione doesn't believe she will be even able to fall asleep, but when she sees her bed she sleeps for twelve hours straight. And when she picks up Bo from her old, cranky neighbour, she realises it's Sunday.
Without thinking better, she showers in a record time, throws on her favourite jumper and rushes to her car, checking before if all the doors and windows are properly closed, a new habit she has.
Malfoy answers after her third knock. She’s flushed and when the door is fully opened, she launches herself at him, her arms around his neck. He staggers back, trying to find his balance, but then he embraces her waist and holds her close, his face buried in her hair.
“I thought you wouldn’t come anymore.”
His whisper is soft but full of pain. She moves away to look at his face. He reaches behind her to close the door, letting go of her.
“Did you get my Patronus? On the anniversary?” she asks as they sit on the sofa, and he nods.
“I did, but then you didn’t come yesterday and I just thought -”
She places a hand on his cheek. His skin, although white as snow, is warm like a spring evening. They’re so close she can smell his cologne. “I was at Mungo’s with Harry and Ginny. I became an aunt to a wonderful baby boy,” she says, a lone, happy tear escaping her eye. His eyes widen, but then he mimics her smile and wipes her cheek with the pad of his thumb.
It’s then when she notices he’s not wearing his prosthesis. He follows her gaze. He’s wearing a baby blue t-shirt, and his stump is on display. “I didn’t expect any guests today.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She blanches as the realisation hits her. “I just came here immediately after I woke up, I spend twenty-four hours in a hospital and didn’t even think, I just knew I missed yesterday and, oh Merlin, should I leave? I’m sorry, it was so rude, just coming here, I’ve been so emotional since Ginny -”
He leans in and shuts her up with a kiss.
His lips are hesitant at first, just a shy pressure, but still making her limp and lean against his chest. She opens her mouth a little and he suddenly intensifies his movements, his hand hiding in her curls and slowly massaging her scalp. She feels dizzy and with heat coursing through her body, she shifts to make herself more comfortable and to be even closer to his body.
They part for a second, trying to catch their breaths. Hermione gulps when he snakes his arm around her waist and moves her body easily so she straddles his lap. They rest against each other's foreheads, their breaths tickling their swollen lips.
“You were blabbering again,” he whispers and kisses the corner of her mouth. His cheeks are flushed just like Hermione’s, and she giggles.
“I wanted to do that since I saw that sofa,” she admits.
“You looked so jealous when I cuddled with Aquila.”
She pinches his side. “Maybe I was.”
“Well, then I should warn you that I won’t stop sharing my bed with her.”
She giggles again, her smile wide. They embrace each other for some time, and then she says, “You know, I really meant what I said with my Patronus.”
“Yeah?”
“I am really happy you survived, Draco.”
His name leaves her lips naturally as his chin wobbles, emotions taking over. She hugs him closer and whispers, “You make me happy.”
When his stormy eyes catch hers, she feels so much affection and warmth it feels like sunshine.