Chapter Text
CHAPTER 1
January, 1997 - Then
“Draco,” she whispered. Her voice was soft and sleepy as she ran her fingers through his hair. Draco opened his eyes and reveled in the feeling of having her in his arms. She smelled like fresh flowers with a hint of lavender. He knew he could never get tired of the way she smelled.
He knew it was wrong. He knew that if anyone found out about them that He would kill them. And then kill his parents for allowing him to make such a “mistake” as He would call it. But, he didn’t care. He loved Hermione Granger and he was going to be damned if anyone took that away from him.
“Hmm?” he mumbled, closing his eyes again and pulling her closer. The only way for them to be together without anyone finding out was to use the Room of Requirements to their advantage. That’s how they had been sneaking around for the last year, without his Slytherin friends and without the Weasel-be and Scarface idiots finding out.
Hermione sat up in bed, and bit her lip. Draco humpfed in annoyance and already missed having her in his arms.
“Please,” she mumbled. “I really think I can help,” she said and he sighed. Not this conversation again. They had been going back and forth for months. Hermione knew that Voldermort had assigned him a task, a task that he refused to share with her to protect her. He wouldn't drag her into his mess without being to protect her.
“Hermione,” Draco said as he sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “No, we’ve talked about th–”
“You’ve talked, Draco, but you haven’t let me talk,” she said, clearly getting frustrated that he refused to acknowledge any help from those around him.
“Just allow me to tell Harry and Ron, I can get them to help and maybe the Order–” “No! Hermione, I don't think I need to tell you just how dangerous this is,” he half shouted. He took a deep breath before speaking, “I can't tell you what ‘this’ even is, I can't protect you. I need you alive and if anyone in my life finds out about us, we’re screwed.”
She bit her lip again and Draco brought his hands up to her cheek. His thumb caressed her cheek and wiped away the tear that escaped her eyes.
“I know,” he whispered. He wanted to tell her, he wanted to tell her so badly but he couldn't take a chance. He wouldn’t be responsible for killing her and her family just because he loved her. Draco knew he would sacrifice himself first before the Dark Lord tried to hurt her.
May, 2001 - Now
Draco woke startled, his heart beating hard in his chest. His dreams were always so vivid that he swore her scent lingered in the air. Just like that day, he knew that her scent would never leave him.
He rubbed his eyes and took a big breath to allow his heart to settle. He lay there for a few minutes staring at the ceiling and kept going back to that fateful night. It was constantly in his mind, he couldn’t put it out of his head. He knew it had been years and that he should move on but something wasn’t right and he was damned if he wasn’t going to figure it out.
With a big grunt, Draco got out of bed and started getting ready for the day. He had a portkey to take in approximately an hour to meet his Mother in England. She had written quite urgently that she needed to see him at the Manor, but he was unsure what it was about and she would not divulge any further details. As he got dressed, his mind wandered what was so urgent his Mother refused to put in a letter.
Then he got it. It had to be about his Father. He finished getting dressed, ate breakfast and took the Portkey the French Ministry had provided him with to the Manor.
“Hello Mother,” Draco said as he walked up the stairs to the Manor. This was the first time he was back in this house since that fateful night. He shut his eyes tightly and took a deep breath before reaching his Mother and embracing her in a tight hug.
“It’s good to see you.”
“Likewise, my dragon,” she mused and hugged him back just as tightly.
“What’s going on, Mother? What was so urgent you needed me to return from France?”
“It’s your Father,” Narcissa said as she led him into the Manor and to the sitting room. Draco sighed, unsure what to expect from that sociopath now. Wasn’t it enough to have had the Dark Lord live in his house for a year and force them to do unthinkable things?
“He’s dead,” she said with no feelings in her voice. Draco eyes widened in shock, unsure how to respond.
“Murdered. In his cell in Azkaban,” Narcissa continued. Draco wasn’t surprised, Lucius was a vile, evil man and rightfully deserved what he got. But on the one hand, he was his Father and as much as he hated him he couldn’t help but feel mournful for the loss his family just suffered.
Narcissa further explained that the guards of Azkaban had no idea how it happened, it was in the dead of night with no one around and by morning he was gone. The case would be handed off to the DMLE office to investigate as this was clearly a murder and they needed to ensure that no one was sneaking in or out of the magical prison.
Draco nodded and wished for his Mother to have conveyed this through a letter but alas, he was in England for the first time since the Battle of Hogwarts and he would make the best of it for her. She informed him that the Auror assigned to the case was none other than Mr. Harry James Potter himself and he would be arriving soon to question both Draco and Narcissa as it was standard procedure.
“Why does he need to question us? I wasn’t even in the country,” he complained and Narcissa shot him a look that clearly said ‘If you don’t cooperate, you will be in trouble with me young sir.’
He rolled his eyes and nodded. Understood, he thought, I will answer the Chosen’s Ones questions. And while Harry was no longer the stupid git he was at Hogwarts, he could still be cynical about his popularity status.
They had made their peace after the war. They both had lost so much and a lot of what they went through was neither of their faults, Harry had even testified at his and Narcissa’s trial. He claimed that they both deserved a second chance.
And a second chance was exactly what Draco got. After losing Hermione the way he did, he put all his mind and strength into studying. He went back to Hogwarts to finish his Seventh Year, and after that he went to America to get his Healing Masters. He was now living in France as a Healer and only occasionally returned to England at his Mother’s request, and never for long and never at the Manor. He had only been in France since the beginning of this year but he was thoroughly enjoying it.
A loud pop brought Draco out of his thoughts. Tipsy announced herself and said, “Master Draco, Misses Narcissa, a Mister Harry Potter is here to see you.”
“Bring him through, Tipsy. Thank you,” The Malfoy Matriarch said and stood up to greet Potter. Draco stood and nodded at Harry.
“Mrs. Malfoy, Draco, first let me start off by saying how sorry I am for your loss.” he said. Narcissa shook her head and held his hand tightly in hers.
“Thank you, Mr. Potter. Now I hear from the Minister, you have some questions for us?” She said as she extended her arm to a chair in between her and Draco, Harry nodded and took a seat. “Right,” he mumbled. Harry then went through and asked the routine questions to both of them, specifically where they had been the night of the murder. If they had any idea of anyone who could sneak into or out of Azkaban, why anyone would want ro murder Lucius now after so many years in prison. Both Narcissa and Draco answered honestly and after some time, Harry stated he felt like he had everything he needed.
As he stood up, Harry fidgeted and spoke up, “Draco, may I speak to you privately?”
Narcissa raised her eyebrow and Draco nodded at her, she hummed and excused herself from the sitting room leaving the two men alone.
“What is it, Potter?” Draco said, maybe a little more forceful than he intended. He was tired from his trip and Harry had been grilling him and his Mother for about half an hour now.
“I — uh, well,” Draco rolled his eyes, having no patience for what he needed to say.
“Well, spit it out, Scarface,” Harry laughed at the nickname he had given him back at school and shook his head.
“Okay.. Um,” Harry sighed trying to find the right words to say this, “after your Father died, any spells he cast long term on someone or something to keep control of, well, broke as his magic line is no longer alive.”
“Right…” That made sense to Draco, but it still didn’t make sense to him why Harry was telling him this.
“Last night, Hermione Granger had enough energy to apparate herself to St. Mungo’s and explain that she had been kept under the Imperius Curse by your Father,” Harry explained.
Draco’s head was spinning, no longer being able to hear what Harry was saying to him.
She’s alive. She’s alive. That was all he could think about. She was alive. She was here. In England. He could feel his pulse quickened and falling back onto the chair but couldn’t stop himself.
“Draco! Draco, hey! I got you, it’s okay,” Harry said and brought some water over to him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just… You were there that night. The night we thought we lost her, and I still can’t wrap my mind around that she hasn't been dead for the last four years,” he explained. He was clearly conflicted about what to share with Draco. Draco, calmed down enough, nodded.
Of course, no one ever knew about us, he thought. He hadn’t spoken yet, and he wasn't sure if he could. He just found that the love of his life wasn’t dead but rather had been ripped away from him by his Father and Draco wasn’t sure how to process that.
“And well, she woke up a couple hours ago. And, she’s asking for you.”