Work Text:
May 2nd, 2003
Five Years After The Battle of Hogwarts
Hermione Granger stared at the envelope that had just been deposited on her kitchen table. The parchment was needlessly thick - purchased only to display a certain kind of wealth. On one side was her name and address, written elegantly in looping black ink. On the other side was a wax seal bearing a familiar crest: a large letter M flanked by dragons.
It had to be him. Surely, Lucius Malfoy could not access extravagant paper and wax seals from the bowels of Azkaban. And according to The Daily Prophet, Narcissa Malfoy had passed away from a blood curse only six months after the end of the war. That left only one person who would be sending her a letter with that crest - the larger, more intriguing mystery was why .
Hermione peeled open the envelope, pulled out the letter, and smoothed it against the oak tabletop.
Granger,
I imagine your first instinct is to burn this letter to ash - or perhaps feed it to that monstrous creature orange feline of yours.
I don't blame you for any desire you may have to destroy this correspondence. Before you do, I only ask that you read to the end. As you likely know, I was sentenced to five years of house arrest after the end of the war. You can imagine that I've had a lot of time to think. I made many choices in my youth that I deeply regret, including my treatment of you. I was cruel to you. It is not an excuse, but I was espousing values taught to me - ones I now realise were deeply immoral and misguided.
I do not expect your forgiveness. I am writing to express my sincere apologies for my treatment of you. I hope you are well.
Sincerely,
Draco Malfoy
Hermione read and reread the words until they were a blur on the page. Unlike her friends, she had forgiven Malfoy years ago. He had acted nobly in the final battle, betraying his parents and risking the punishment of Voldemort to save Harry's life. He had shown immense remorse at his trial. This remorse - coupled with his youthful age - had awarded him house arrest in lieu of Azkaban. Her previous distaste of Malfoy had morphed into simple pity. He'd been born into the fires of hatred and pureblood supremacy - she could hardly blame him for what he'd done as a child.
But what was there to say? It all seemed too big to write down. She could fill a novel with her thoughts. She left the letter on the table, folded and weighted down by her teacup. She would deal with it later.
The letter sat untouched for three months before Hermione decided to revisit it. She knew she didn't owe Draco Malfoy a response, but an unsettled feeling gnawed at her gut every time she glanced at the stupidly thick parchment on the table. She'd considered throwing it away or stuffing it into a drawer to be forgotten, but instead, she'd allowed it to become a permanent fixture.
She sat down and reread it several times. Then she poured a glass of wine and drafted her reply.
August 8th, 2003
Malfoy,
I'm sorry it took so long to reply.
Thank you for your letter and for your thoughtful words. I'm not quite sure what to say, to be honest. I forgave you years ago, and I harbour no resentment toward you, though the fact that you took the time to write to me means a lot. I am curious, however, if you also wrote letters to Ron and Harry. I imagine you didn't because they haven't mentioned it to me. But, then again, I didn't tell them about your letter.
I hope you are doing well. According to The Daily Prophet, your house arrest is under isolation. I imagine that must be lonely if it's true. I wish you the best.
P.S. Crookshanks sends his regards.
Sincerely,
Hermione Granger.
August 9th, 2003
Granger,
And here I thought you were ignoring me out of spite - which isn't a terribly unlikely scenario.
I never thought I'd hear of the day you were lost for words. It's quite an honour. Secondarily, I am appreciative of your forgiveness. I have not yet written to Weasley or Potter. Because I know you'll ask why, I'll tell you. Though you all deserve my apologies, I fear that I treated you the most terribly. I also suspected you would most likely give my letter a chance. You always had a bleeding heart, even behind the Gryffindor pride.
My sentence is done under isolation. It's just me and the house elves…and a Mind Healer who visits monthly and seems hell-bent on discussing my "feelings." He's clearly a charlatan whose field is no more distinguished than Divination. Fortunately, the elves are reasonably adept at chess. I do have to be sure to win; otherwise, they get terribly upset. Once in Lucius Malfoy's house, always in Lucius Malfoy's house, or so they say.
I will admit that I am profoundly and irreparably bored. I have started to speak to the portraits, though you can imagine the Malfoy family ancestors are quite displeased with my choices as of late. They usually just respond by taunting me about what a blood traitor I've become.
Have you taken over the Ministry yet?
Thank you for writing back.
Malfoy
August 15th, 2003
Malfoy,
I'm glad that house arrest hasn't completely destroyed your personality. And me, a bleeding heart? I'll have you know that I trapped Rita Skeeter in a jar for several months. Rumour has it that she's still terrified of me. As she should be.
I recommend you rethink your stance on Mind Healers. While I agree that Divination is an absolute load of bollocks, there's actually some decent literature to support Mind Healing. Muggles have their own version called psychotherapy. I went for a few sessions after the war and found it helpful to process my feelings and experiences.
I work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. It's not the most exciting work, but an excellent opportunity to make real change. I hope you treat your elves fairly.
Does anyone else write to you?
Since you're bored, I've enclosed a book. I'm sure the Malfoy library has an extensive collection, but I presume it's sorely missing in muggle-written fiction. This is one of my favourites. I hope you'll give it a chance. It's titled The Metamorphosis - it's a quick read. Let me know what you think of it.
Hermione
August 17th, 2003
Granger,
Thank you for sending along the book. Surprisingly, I rather enjoyed it. It was an interesting perspective on identity. Gregor only existed to his family in terms of what he could offer them. When he could no longer provide a service, he became isolated and unimportant. He must have felt lost after realising that his family's loyalty was less about love and more about utility. I can relate to that very much. In my father's eyes, I was never a child, only a tool to be wielded. When I was no longer useful, I was no longer his son.
I sometimes send letters to old school friends - Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Daphne Greengrass. They try to write back, but it's infrequent. They are starting families and lives and don't seem to have much interest in maintaining a friendship via owl correspondence.
I am enclosing a book of my own. You might have read it (haven't you read everything?), but I did dig deep into the collection to find something obscure.
Will you send another book?
Malfoy
August 24th, 2003
Malfoy,
It may surprise you that I had not read A Historical Perspective on Thestral Breeding yet. Given my career, I found it quite enlightening. I found the historical attempts to crossbreed quite depressing, as it resulted in unwell and unsafe creatures. This is a beautiful example of why I've chosen the line of work that I do. Just because we can do something doesn't mean we should - and it's hazardous for one species to assume dominion over another.
I am sorry to hear your friends haven't kept in regular contact. I know the manor is large, and you must have plenty of space to roam, but being forced to stay in one place can be hard on the mind. I sometimes feel this unshakeable urge to just go somewhere. Although it's a different situation, I feel a bit chained to my life - my flat and my office. I'm thinking of travelling this winter. Paris, maybe. I've really missed out on travel the last few years. Our adolescence was so abnormal that I've been hyper-focused on being ordinary. Does that make sense?
I am including a novel that you might find enlightening.
Best,
Hermione
August 26th, 2003
Granger,
I enjoyed the novel Frankenstein , though I'm not sure what your implication in your letter was to mean. It did make me think - we are responsible for the impact of our actions, even when they go far beyond what we could have imagined. Despite Frankenstein's monster being a sentient creature, his creator held some responsibility for unleashing him onto the world. I particularly liked the line: "I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous."
My Mind Healer (I am trying to give him a chance) told me that "hurt people hurt people," which is saying very much the same thing. Happy people do not harm others; they haven't the need. My father was an angry man. His obsession with pureblood supremacy stemmed from a need to be better than others. He was both profoundly insecure and vain. As you can imagine, I was an unhappy child, and I acted as such. Misery made me a fiend.
I am including an old wizarding children's book that my mother used to read to me. I hope you find it enjoyable.
Malfoy
September 1st, 2003
Malfoy,
May I call you Draco? It seems strange to call you by your last name at this point.
Frankenstein is one of my favourite novels, and I'm glad you enjoyed it. I always liked this line:
"I do know that for the sympathy of one-living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you cannot believe. If I cannot satisfy one, I will indulge the other."
It's much like what your Mind Healer (wise man) says - hurt people hurt people. We are all capable of good and evil, and it is a choice in which we indulge. Even hurt people can choose to heal and offer goodness to the world around them, and they're more likely to do so when touched by even a shred of kindness and decency. That may be why I chose to respond to your first letter. You deserve a shred of compassion and decency despite the things you've done. People are capable of change. I think I have to believe that, or I'd give up.
I liked the book you sent. The illustrations were lovely. I thought it might be precious to you, so I'm sending it back with another book for you to read.
Hermione
September 3rd, 2003
Granger
Hermione
Miss Granger,
You may call me Draco. Malfoy is my father, after all.
I do not understand the fascination with this Shakespeare muggle. The story of Romeo and Juliet was utterly depressing. Love stories should be happy. And children should not be ending their lives over a flirtation. What nonsense. Then again, I've had little opportunity to experience love. Perhaps I'm the one who doesn't understand. Am I misguided?
Thank you for returning the book. My mother used to read it to me as a child, so I appreciate having it back with me. I had a feeling you would treat it with respect. You always seemed to like books more than people. My mother was the same - she would have chosen to read over the company of almost anyone. You didn't get to know her, but she was a good woman. She is actually part of the reason I decided to write to you. Before she passed, she shared many things I hadn't known before. With my father in Azkaban, she felt more free to be honest. She shared, multiple times, that she thought highly of you. She wasn't easily impressed by intelligence, but she found you bold. Although my father would have disagreed, she thought boldness was the most essential quality in a woman.
I apologise for not including a book this week. I've been preoccupied and haven't had a chance to select one. I'm selfishly looking forward to what you send next.
Draco
September 6th, 2003
Draco,
"Miss Granger" - really? Just call me Hermione. Please. We're adults, aren't we?
I agree with you about Romeo and Juliet. It's a classic for a reason, so I won't discount its merits. But if their experience of love is accurate, I'm not so sure I want it.
I've also had a busy week. I'm working on a proposal regarding werewolf rights, and it's consuming all of my spare time. My parents are visiting from Australia, as well. I'm happy to have them here, but my home feels quite full. I don't know if you're aware, but I obliviated them both during the war to protect them. I restored their memories after the fact, but there are still some gaps. We spend a lot of our time rehashing the same details from my childhood. I am grateful they're healthy and here, but it can be time-consuming.
I'm realising now that it's wildly selfish of me to complain about my parents visiting when you are alone. I'm sorry. It must be difficult having no one to speak to.
Hermione
September 7th, 2003
Granger
Hermione,
Well… I do speak to you.
I am glad your parents were able to recover their memories. I remember your testimony at my trial, and I could see how much it bothered you when you spoke about it. I'm sorry you felt it was necessary to do such a thing. I can relate to the feeling of making an unimaginable choice because the alternative is even more unthinkable.
You said you're not so sure you want love. Does that mean you haven't had it? Weren't you and Weasley together after the war?
Best,
Draco
September 8th, 2003
Draco,
Ron and I were terribly suited for each other. While I loved him as a friend (and still do), we were never a good match for a romance. Our relationship was over before it began, really. My mother says I don't have to force love; it'll just happen. I'm unsure how that's possible when I do little besides work.
I'm including a book you might like. It's called Lord of the Flies.
Hermione
September 10th, 2003
Hermione,
Maybe you'll fall in love with a centaur or a house elf. It wouldn't be entirely out of character.
I'm joking. Mostly.
Your mum sounds like an intelligent woman. I always expected it to be you and Potter. Weasley always seemed moderately terrified of you. He would never have been able to manage being consistently outsmarted. I'm no expert on love, but our partners should be excited by our attributes, not threatened by them.
I did like the book. It reminds me of the absolute chaos within the Slytherin dormitory. Animals, most of them.
I'm including a present. If I remember correctly, your birthday is this week. I hope you have a good one.
Draco
September 11th, 2003
DRACO MALFOY
You did NOT send me a first edition of Hogwarts: A History. This is incredible. Thank you. I'm tempted to cancel my birthday dinner to stay home and read it.
P.S. Your comment about me dating a centaur or house elf was distasteful and rude, but I'm ignoring it because I'm easily bribed.
Hermione
September 12th, 2003
Hermione,
You would be the type to cancel social plans for a book. I hope you didn't. What did you do? Please cure me of my mind-numbing boredom with some exciting details.
Draco
September 13th, 2003
Draco,
Well, first, I had a dinner date with a centaur. After shagging him silly, I met up with my other boyfriend (the house elf) and robbed Gringotts.
Joking. Obviously.
I had a lovely dinner at a French restaurant with Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hannah. Ron and Hannah Abbott have been dating for about a year now. Afterward, I came home and read Hogwarts: A History while drinking a bottle of wine. That's not a joke.
As a thank you for the thoughtful present, I'm including a nice bottle of firewhisky. Probably not as fancy as what you've got at the manor, but I hope you enjoy it.
Hermione
September 14th, 2003
Hermione,
This is the best firewhisky I've ever tasted.
I saw your picture in the paper a few months ago. I don't think I've told you that. It was an article covering your proposal for house elf rights. You had just finished giving an interview, and you looked…powerful? Bold. That's the word.
It reminded me of my humiliating crush on you back at Hogwarts. You're still as beautiful as you were then.
Draco
September 18th, 2003
Granger,
I imagine my last letter made you uncomfortable. Please burn it. I indulged in too much firewhisky, clearly. Please accept my apologies and forget everything I wrote.
Malfoy
September 22nd, 2003
Granger,
Could you at least send another book?
Malfoy
September 25th, 2003
Draco,
I apologise for my delay - I wasn't trying to ignore you. My father had a medical emergency - a heart attack - and I left for Australia without much notice. He's okay now, thankfully, but my mum needed some support getting him settled once he left the hospital. I returned late last night and received your letters. All of your letters.
Did you think I'd be bothered by you admitting you had a crush on me when we were eleven? Sadly, girls are told from a young age that boys who bully them do it because they fancy them. If I ever have a daughter, I'll tell her that bullying is an unacceptable way to flirt.
Thank you for the compliment, though I'm not sure you'd agree if you could see me now. It's been a rough few weeks. I'm glad my dad is okay, but almost losing him was scary. I just got him back.
You'll probably see in the papers that Ron proposed to Hannah. I'm happy for him, honestly. She's a far better match for him than I ever was. But a part of me is now finally saying goodbye to a future I used to think would be mine. I know the Weasleys will always consider me family, but I feel like I'm grieving something. I don't know why I'm telling you this. Except I'd rather die than admit it to anyone else.
I've included a novel, especially for you.
Hermione (also, don't you dare revert to Granger again. Childish!)
September 27th, 2003
Hermione,
I'm glad your dad is okay, though I imagine it was scary. When my mum was sick, I felt half alive. Part of me was in the present trying to support her as a good son. The other half was already mourning some eventual future where I'd lose her.
Send my condolences to Weasley. I have no sodding idea who Hannah Abbott is - but I'm sure she's a step-down. You will do far better things in your life than breed with a Weasley.
Do I dare admit I liked the absolute trash heap of a book you sent me? Bridget was a complete mess and oddly charming. Though her interest in that bellend Daniel is beyond me. If you ever tell anyone I read and enjoyed that book, I'll enchant your hair into sentience.
Draco
September 30th, 2003
Draco,
I'm impressed you read the book. I enclosed it but was ninety-nine percent sure you'd return it.
I appreciate your encouragement about Ron's engagement. I don't even know if I intend to - as you put it - "breed." But I'd want to do it with the right person. Someone who isn't threatened by my strengths, like you said.
You were mentioned in an article in the Daily Prophet yesterday. Did you know? It said your house arrest will end sometime next month. Is that true? What are you going to do?
Hermione
October 2nd, 2003
Hermione,
Like I said, tell anyone, and you'll regret it. But thank you for sending it.
You're not sure if you want children? I've always wanted to be a father. I'd like to raise children differently than I was raised. Show them that they mean more to me than their usefulness.
I did see that byline in the Daily Prophet. I am set to be released this month if all goes well. I'm awaiting confirmation from the Ministry. As for what I'll do? I don't know. I don't need to work - I've got access to the Malfoy fortune. I'd like to travel.
Perhaps I'll visit if you'll have me. You may not find that offer appealing. I like to think we've become friends over the last few months.
Draco
October 5th, 2003
Draco,
I do want children; I'm unsure when or how many. Ron has always wanted a big family, and I imagine he and Hannah will have a child by next year. It's a Weasley thing. I'd like to focus on my career and see the world before I bring another human onto the planet. And for what it's worth, I think you'll make a good dad.
Why don't you let me know when you have more information about your sentence. I'm unsure if a meeting is a good idea. I do think we're friends, but we're working against a lot of history. I think it might deeply upset Harry and Ron as well. Not that I allow them to tell me what to do, but you represent a lot of pain for both of them. They know how I feel about the issue but don't know we've been writing. I'm not ashamed; I just haven't been sure how to explain our friendship. I love Ron and Harry, but they both can tend toward close-mindedness. They also like to think they know what's best for me, and I'm sure they'd have qualms about our little book club.
We could start small. Coffee?
Hermione
October 10th, 2003
Hermione,
Coffee, it is.
And is that what this is? A book club? My grandmother used to be part of a book club - she and her friends would sit around gossiping and drinking tea. They didn't actually discuss books. We could call ours a literature club instead.
Draco
October 15th, 2003
Draco,
The Granger Malfoy Literature Club. It has a nice ring to it.
I know it took me a few extra days to reply. Work has been challenging, to say the least. My boss constantly gives me extra work because he knows I'll do it well. Last week, I worked myself to the bone on a proposal related to illegal Hippogriff breeding. It was some of my best work - nearly eight metres of parchment. And you know what my boss did? He took all the credit. He didn't even leave a footnote giving me credit. I'm still so angry I can barely think. I'd have quit yesterday if I didn't need to pay my bills. When I confronted him about it, he said he thought my ideas were good but would be "more palatable" if shared by a man. What in the world does that even mean?
Do you want another book? I need to think about what to send.
Hermione
October 17th, 2003
Draco,
I showed up at my office today, and my boss is on administrative leave due to an anonymous report about workplace bullying, sexism, and plagiarism. I suppose I have you to thank for that. While I appreciate your intervention, I don't need you to fight my battles. Next time, just listen.
With that being said…. I was offered a promotion. If I say yes, I'm going to be his boss.
Obviously, I'm going to say yes.
Hermione
October 18th, 2003
Hermione,
Congratulations on your promotion. Something I always liked about you is your thirst for winning. Please don't assault me for saying this, but you would've made an excellent Slytherin. Cunning, ambitious, and clever. I think my mum would've agreed, blood status be damned.
As to your first letter, don't you dare do anything to make yourself more palatable. You're a lot. I would've said that as an insult when we were in school (I probably did), but I mean it as a compliment now. I'm a lot, too. People don't always know what to do with me. And that's alright by me. Snakes don't concern themselves with the judgments of mice any more than a lion worries about the opinion of a gazelle. Feast on the gazelles and do it with a smile.
I would love a new book. I played hide and seek with a house elf this morning. I've well and truly lost it, finally.
Draco
October 21st, 2003
Draco,
You're right. I am a lot. I spent my entire life feeling bad about that. Not anymore.
You say I'd make a good Slytherin (offensive, by the way), but we could make a case for you in Gryffindor. It took a lot of bravery to stand up against your parents and Voldemort as you did all those years ago. I should've acknowledged that in my first letter. I was impressed by your choice. Yes, you'd done a lot of bad up to that point, but a part of me always knew it wasn't entirely up to you.
Harry and Ron knew you risked death to stand up against Voldemort, which impressed them. But it wasn't just death you risked. You risked isolation. You pushed back against your entire support system. To willingly walk away from the people you love might be a fate worse than death, don't you think?
I know I said I forgave you a long time ago, and it's true. But I also admire the person you've become.
I've included a new book for you, perfect for Halloween. I hope to hear news of your release soon.
In friendship,
Hermione
October 31st, 2003
Rain spattered against the window. Hermione's eyes flicked to the glass with each heavy raindrop, hoping to see an owl scratching on the glass. She hadn't heard back from Draco in ten days, which was unlike him. In the months they'd been corresponding, he rarely took more than a day or so to reply to her.
Perhaps she'd been too effusive in her letter. She'd re-written it several times, cringing with each attempt to explain her admiration of him. Confessing how highly she thought of him made her gut twist uncomfortably, and yet, not saying it felt far worse.
Hermione pulled her cashmere sweater tightly around her shoulders, then used her wand to light flames in her fireplace. How could she miss someone she hadn't seen in over five years? A person that she'd hated before that point?
Thunder rumbled the thin wall of her flat as a flash of lightning lit the room momentarily. And then, in perfect tandem, came a loud boom at the door. Hermione gripped her wand and padded toward the front door. She pulled it open.
He was here. Standing in the hallway of her building, black shirt soaking wet and plastered to his chest.
She took a step backward. "Draco?"
"Hermione." Her name sounded strange in his mouth, like he'd never actually said it out loud before.
"What are you doing here?"
"Why would you send me this?" He held up a paperback, wet edges curling in his hand.
She pulled the novel from his hand - the one she'd sent with her last letter. It by Stephen King. "We send each other books. That's what we do."
"This book is fucking terrifying. I haven't slept in a week. Did you know muggle children hire clowns for birthday parties? Why the fuck would someone do that?"
Hermione stifled a laugh. "Come inside, Draco."
He stepped inside, shoes squelching with moisture against the hardwood. "I got notice from the Ministry this morning that my house arrest is complete. I could have gone anywhere. But I said, you know what? I'm going to give Hermione Granger a piece of my mind for fueling my eternal nightmares."
"I didn't realise a clown would disturb you so greatly."
"He eats children. And it's not just the clown. There's that one scene in the tunnels. They're kids. What would the author think that was a good plot point?"
"Okay, I hear you. Not your favourite." Hermione set the book on her side table and led Draco into the flat. She pointed up at her bookshelf. "Let's get you something else."
He stopped her with a hand to her wrist. She sucked in a breath. She hadn't expected him to touch her, and yet, she didn't hate it.
"Wait. I didn't just come here to harass you for melting my brain with that awful book."
"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I, uh." He ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck. It's easier to write things than to say them, as it turns out."
She pointed to her coffee table, where a roll of parchment lay next to a quill. "Want to give it a shot?"
"You must think I'm pathetic."
"A little." She smiled. "I'm joking."
"Hilarious, Granger." He lowered himself to the couch and sketched into the parchment for a few minutes. When he was done, he looked it over and handed it to her.
Hermione,
I feel like an absolute tosser writing you a letter while standing beside you. I don't know how to say these things out loud.
You are still as beautiful as I remember.
Our letters have been the highlight of my day.
I don't want your friendship if I'm being candid.
Yours,
Draco
She clutched the parchment in her hands, then swallowed. "Thank you. I think."
"You asked me what I wanted to do with my life when my house arrest was over. And the more I thought about it, I realised I wanted to just live. Enjoy life. Be around people I care about. You, specifically."
"You care about me?"
He nodded. "As much as the fifteen-year-old Draco Malfoy would've mocked me relentlessly, your letters were the only thing that made me happy in five years. I like your brain. And I'd like to kiss your mouth, if you'll let me."
She studied him, unconsciously grazing a hand to her lower lip. "Okay."
He took a hesitant step forward, then placed one hand at her waist. She tipped her chin to look up at him. His other hand pressed to her cheek, his thumb stroking her flushed skin. And then he pressed his full mouth to hers. A zing of electricity shot through her chest, and she leaned into him, wanting more.
He pulled back, forehead resting against hers. "I like your mouth too, as it turns out."
"I like yours too."
"Do you want to go to dinner?"
She stepped back, face still hot. "Now?"
"Why not?"
"Um, sure. I could do that. There's an Italian place just down the street. It's next to an incredible bookstore. We could go pick our next read."
He nodded. "Just promise me one thing."
"Yes?"
"No fucking clowns."