Chapter Text
Hermione
February, 2008
A Better Place Foundation, London
Hermione buried her nose into her scarf, shielding herself against the cold winter wind. Snow fell onto her hair and shoulders as she pulled open the doors to A Better Place , and into its warmth; she smiled at her secretary Gretchen, before making her way to her office. Her office door shut behind her, she leaned against it, coffee in one hand and her cognac bag sliding down her arm. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was only eight in the morning, and already she wished for the day’s end. This was nothing new, however. It’d been this way for almost a month now and the stress was only mounting as time went on.
Hermione brought her cup to her lips and took her first sip of coffee. She hummed at the taste, then let out an exasperated sigh as her daughter’s cries echoed in her mind.
Rose had thrown a tantrum this morning, refusing to get dressed and throwing her cereal to the floor. “I go with you!” she’d screeched after Hermione told her she would be visiting her grandmother’s again. Molly often watched Rose for her on the days Hermione had her, while she went to work.
“You can’t, Rose,” she’d said gently as her two year old continued to wail. She felt awful, taking her daughter to her grandmother’s even though she didn’t want to go, but she had too much to do and bringing Rose would just be a distraction. She loved bringing Rose to work with her; she even had a part of her office set up for her, but today she just couldn’t.
She sighed and pushed off the door, stripping off her coat, gloves, and scarf. She sat down behind her desk, and sliding her bag onto her lap, she pulled out a stack of papers and laid them on her desk. She exhaled slowly, dropped her bag on the floor, and picked up the papers. Divorce papers. This is amicable, she reminded herself. We both want this.
December, 1998
The Burrow
Ron’s thumb caressed her jawline, his lips just inches from hers. They lay on his bed, under the covers, their clothes discarded on the floor. He looked at her with admiration, love; his eyes twinkling in the orange glow of his room. “I love you, Hermione,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.
“I love you, too,” she said before kissing him again, pressing her body to his. Her stomach fluttered and her heart swelled in her chest. It was the first time either had said those words, but she knew she meant it. She loved him, with everything she had. She’d known, in those first few months after the war, that she was falling, really falling, for him. Every tense and moody day, every sweat drenched, sleepless night fraught with nightmares, every moment of recovery that they helped each other through only further solidified her love.
She’d spent the last few weeks wondering how they’d gotten to this point. She’d poured over their memories, trying to find the exact moment when the flame burned out, but it was still hard to remember when the constant arguing had really started; all the fights seemed to blur together in her mind. Countless nights of screaming themselves hoarse, days spent in silence as they avoided one another at all costs, slamming doors, watching Ron walk out time and time again to cool off…
Perhaps I should have seen this coming, she thought bitterly, shoving the papers back into her bag.
At four o’clock, she had a meeting with Ron and their lawyers, to go over the final copy of the divorce papers that sat in front of her. Neither of them put up a fight about anything during the divorce. Hermione didn’t mind getting a place of her own, and Ron had no problem with each of them keeping their own earnings and possessions. They’d settled on joint custody of Rose. Hermione would keep her Sunday through Wednesday afternoon, while Ron had her Wednesday night to Sunday morning. For a couple who fought all the time, it was awfully easy for the two of them to agree on the ending.
Unsurprisingly, to Hermione at least, it had been Molly that put up the biggest fight. (Hermione hadn’t forgotten the tiny easter egg Molly sent in her fourth year.) When the news of the divorce reached Molly’s ears, Hermione had merely pursed her lips when a letter appeared on her desk the next morning. She met her mother-in-law for lunch as she had requested and prepared for the worst, but hadn’t been able to sit through it. Molly’d fired suggestion after suggestion at her while they ate, and after fifteen minutes of Hermione repeating herself that they’ve tried that, she lost her cool.
“We don’t want to be with each other anymore, all right?” she’d snapped, slapping down her fork and knife. “We--we’re done trying. It’s over…” her voice grew softer as her anger subsided and the truth weighed upon both of them. “I’m sorry,” she said before bolting from her seat.
Hermione shook her head, scattering the unpleasant memory and took another sip of her coffee.
All she had to do was get through this work day, then she could focus on everything else. “ Like the divorce papers you’re going to sign,” said a voice in her head. She glanced at her bag, but then pointedly looked away. She was not going to think about it today. With a heavy sigh, she picked up the piece of parchment she kept front and center on her desk; her to-do list.
Return the Minister’s letter
She had refused to work for the Ministry after the war as she’d been determined to see how they turned out. She would not work for a corrupt system, for a government that deceived its people. She still had to correspond with them, however. Running an organization meant she had to deal with permits, building codes, and laws (though those she sometimes argued, seeing as most of their were ludicrous, outdated or discriminatory). She still had to answer to the Minister of Magic, even if she didn’t technically work for him. It was nothing against Kingsley, she respected the man, and he had respected her reasonings for not wanting to work in government.
Hermione pulled out a clean piece of parchment, her inkpot, and quill, and began the letter. She was trying to devise an education program within A Better Place, a foundation for magical beings in need that she officially founded three years ago, so those who were living here would have something to take away from it whenever they left. Considering she housed orphans from the last war, werewolves, and squibs, she felt it would be a beneficial program. However, Kingsley wanted her to present her case to him on Thursday at three p.m. When she’d first read the letter, she laughed with relief. For once she wouldn’t have to reschedule a meeting; Rose would be with Ron on that day, leaving her day free for meetings and work.
She let out a breath she seemed to be holding when she signed the letter and set down her quill. She folded the letter up, slipped it into an envelope and sealed it. With the envelope addressed to the Minister, Hermione took out it to Gretchen. “Can you make sure this gets sent out with the morning post, please?”
Gretchen nodded, taking the letter from Hermione, then said, “It’s none of my business but,” the younger blonde bit her lip. “Is everything okay? Aside from here, I mean.”
Hermione’s eyes widened slightly before she forced her features to remain blank. She wasn’t one to discuss personal problems at work, and especially not with her employees. She was their boss, it was inappropriate. Gretchen only meant well, she knew that, but she was having a rough day. Again . “Just make sure the letter gets sent out, please.” Hermione ordered, before turning on her heel to retreat to her office.
“Of course,” Gretchen muttered at her.
Once back inside her office, Hermione picked up her list again. “Right, that’s done. What’s next?”
Draco
February, 2008
Malfoy Manor
Draco watched Scorpius pick up his toy wand with glee, screeching and waving it wildly in the air. His lips pulled into a smile as an ache settled into his chest; he had Astoria’s smile. Draco heard the sound of heels on the marble floors, and smelled the faintest trace of lemon and honey. A moment later, his mother entered the sitting room, carrying a tray with two steaming cups of tea. He thanked her when she handed him one, and inhaled the aroma, smiling as he did so.
“So,” Narcissa said, settling down in an armchair with her own tea. “What is it you needed talk with me about?”
He cleared his throat and glanced at Scorpius, who was now attempting to walk towards his grandmother. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation; he’d been worrying himself sick for days at the thought of it. But he had to tell her and there was no delicate way to say it. He allowed himself a few more moments of silence while he sipped his tea.
“I’ve decided to sell father’s company.” he said, keeping his tone calm and even. “I’ll be getting ten million galleons, and I’ll be giving eight million to you. I’m searching for a new job, and the funds we’ll have will be sufficient in the meantime.”
Narcissa allowed herself a small gasp, then set her mouth in a thin line. She gripped her teacup so tightly her knuckles were turning white and stared hard at Draco, before turning to glance at her grandson who was now standing in front of her, holding his arms out to her. Her expression softened as she set her tea down and picked Scorpius up, sitting him in her lap. She turned back to her son, her eyes narrowed at him. “Why, in Salazar’s name, would you want to do that, Draco?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly.
He sighed heavily, rubbing at his temples. “Mother, Father won’t be out of Azkaban for another fifteen years. And… I need something new, something different. Which, actually, brings me to my next point of order.” he said, and watch as his mother drew in a breath, sitting straighter in her chair, and gripping her teacup as if it were the only thing tethering her to reality. “I’m moving to London. Well, we are, Scorpius and I,” he faltered as he watched the color drain from his mother’s face. “I can’t live in that house anymore, mother.” he said quietly, dropping his gaze to his fingers wringing in his lap. “It’s time for a change.”
Narcissa said nothing for a full minute. Scorpius was now entranced by the necklace she wore, and grasping at fistfuls of her hair in his little, pudgy hands. “It’s only been six months,” she said, her voice soft, barely audible over Scorpius’s incoherent rambling. “Is all of this really necessary?” she asked, gazing up at him now. “Is this absolutely what you need, Draco?”
Draco nodded solemnly, drained the last of his tea and cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Yes, it is.” he said again, more clearly and firmly this time.
His mother sighed and wrapped her arms around Scorpius before standing up. Draco stood as well, holding out his arms so his son could return to him. With Scorpius adjusted against his hip, his little, blond head resting against his shoulder, Draco said his goodbyes to his mother. “I’ll keep you updated with the details, promise.” he murmured as he kissed her cheek.
Before he stepped back, Narcissa held her hand to his face, searching his features. She cocked her head to the side, her eyes glossy and her bottom lip trembling slightly. He felt his own legs grow shaky; he never really saw his mother get emotional. “As long as this is what you need,” she said firmly yet gently.
Draco smiled. “Thank you, mother.”
Hermione
February, 2008
Grimmauld Place
6:42 pm
Hermione sat on the sofa in the living room with Harry and Ginny; Hermione and Harry nursing a butterbeer, and Ginny sipping on her tea. James, Albus and Rose all sat on the carpet in front of them, each occupied with their own toy and lost in their own world. The fire crackled in the background, the only other sound being the squeals of their children.
Finally, Ginny said bracingly, “How’d the meeting go?”
“Well enough, I suppose.” Hermione said, letting out a long breath. She picked at the label on her butterbeer. “Considering the circumstances.”
Ron had been a few minutes late, which she had predicted to the lawyer. Her soon to be ex-husband hardly even acknowledged her as he sat down, and despite the fact that she wanted this divorce, she couldn’t ignore the fact that it stung a little; his disregard. No, his oblivion to her. Like she didn’t exist. Before they were husband and wife, Merlin before they were even dating, they were best friends. And this divorce was supposed to be amicable, they had both wanted this. In fact, their conversation involving the divorce papers was the first civil conversation they’d had in what felt like weeks.
As she sipped her butterbeer, the memory the first he brought it up came flooding to her mind.
December, 2007
Ron and Hermione’s flat, London
He always got home from work after her; while she could set her own hours and even work from home, Ron was still at the mercy of the Auror department. So it was no surprise to her when he didn’t come home until half past ten that night. He hadn’t called out to her when he came through the door, her only greeting being his shoes thudding against their hardwood floors. Hermione gathered her payroll paperwork and stacked them all into a neat pile on the coffee table. She sipped at her wine, and leaned back into the couch, waiting for Ron to appear.
When he did come into view, the first thing she noticed was the large envelope in his hands. He grimaced when their eyes meet, her jaw slack at first; she’d been taken aback slightly. Ron sat down on the opposite end of the couch and tossed the envelope onto the table. He said nothing as Hermione picked up the envelope, her hands slightly trembling and pulled out the papers inside.
“It’s our last option...I don’t know…” he trailed off and cleared his throat. “We’ve tried everything else.”
She nodded, her eyes not leaving the stack of papers in her hands. “Of course,” she muttered. “Our last option.”
“Hermione?” Harry said, pulling her from her thoughts. He looked at her, concerned, eyes narrowing at her in attempt to read her. Harry had always been good at that. Ginny looked between the two of them, her lips pressed tightly together.
“Sorry,” she said after a moment. Memories still fresh in her mind, and the awfulness of the day settling in, she stood up quickly from the couch and set down her half-finished butterbeer. “I should get Rose home,” she said hurriedly, fetching her and Rose’s jackets with a flick of her wand. Hermione scooped Rose into her arms, fixing her up in her jacket and hat. When she stopped fidgeting, she saw Harry and Ginny staring at her. “What?” she said, wrapping her own scarf around her neck.
“It’s barely seven thirty,” Ginny pointed out.
“And Rose is two, and I have work again tomorrow.” Hermione replied with ease. When Harry and Ginny shared a knowing look, Hermione sighed, adjusting Rose on her hip. “Guys really, I’m fine. It’s just been a long day.”
“It’s all right if you’re upset,” Harry said quickly as she stepped into the fireplace with Rose and a pinch of floo powder in her free hand.
Hermione smiled at him sadly, cocking her head to the side. “Thanks for the drink,” she said before tossing the powder down and calling out for home.
Draco
February, 2008
London
He stared around the new, boxed filled flat with Scorpius in his arms. He took in the amount of windows throughout each room. Plenty of natural light, excellent, he thought to himself. It was spacious, allowing his only son, only child, plenty of room to play and run. Not as much as he had had as a child, what with the endless hallways and empty rooms never used, the enormous grounds filled with delicately and diligently maintained gardens. But this was enough. Draco hadn’t necessarily needed all that room as a child.
Draco turned to his son as they entered what would be Scorpius’s room. “What do you think, Scorp?” he whispered, nuzzling his head against Scorpius’s. Scorpius let out a giggle and clapped his hands together. “It big!”
Draco chuckled, then sighed. “It is big, you’re right, son.”
Scorpius looked up at him then down at the floor and nearly screeched, “Down!”
His brows furrowed together. He pointed a scolding finger at his son. “Scorpius, you need to ask nicely.” he explained calmly, yet firmly.
Scorpius pouted and folded his arms across his chest. His light brown eyes were glossy and wide as his son stared up at him. “I sorry, daddy.” he said quietly, hanging his head.
Draco kissed the top of his head and hugged him tight. “Apology accepted, Scorp. Can you say, please let me down?”
He watched with joy as his son’s face screwed up in concentration, the little toddler determined to repeat his father’s words. Draco waited, but when Scorpius didn’t speak, he prompted him. “Please…”
“Pwease…” Scorpius repeated. Draco giggled inaudibly. He said every word for Scorpius while he echoed him before Draco set him down to explore. With nothing unpacked yet, he couldn’t actually get into much. He’d sealed the boxes with a simple charm, yet strong enough to keep his son out of trouble.
He watched Scorpius roam around his new room, falling every now and again when he picked up his pace, but standing back up every time. Draco waved his wand at the boxes marked ‘Scorp’s toys’, and cleared a space for him to play in the meantime. “Hey Scorp,” he said, crouching down next to his son who had picked up his toy broomstick. “Auntie Pansy, and Uncle Theo are going to be here soon.” Scorpius’s face lit up, the broomstick falling from his hands. “Dey are?!” Draco nodded, unable to keep the smile from his face. “But we have to unpack all of our belongings, so can you be a big helper for us?” Scorpius nodded eagerly, waiting for his instruction. “We’ll need your help unpacking your room, so stay in here while we unpack everything else okay?”
Scorpius didn’t look too happy about this, but nodded anyway. “Okay, daddy. Play with my toys?” he asked, pointing down at his broomstick in particular. Draco nodded. “Yes, Scorp. Play with your toys.”
Almost as if one cue, he heard a loud rushing sound then coughing. That’ll be Theo, he thought to himself.
His suspicions were confirmed when he heard his friend call out, “Draco, where’ve you gone, mate?” Draco gave Scorpius a kiss on the cheek and told him to behave then went to greet Theo in the living room.
“Sorry Theo,” he said in lieu of greeting. “I set up Scorpius in his room while we unpack.”
“No matter,” Theo said, waving a dismissive hand. His wavy dirty blond locks were still covered with soot from the floo, and there was a spot on his cheek.
“You’ve still got a bit of--” Draco pointed to his cheek, then his hair as Theo brushed away the ash.
“Any chance I could apparate next time?” Theo asked with a frown, running his hand through his hair.
Draco shrugged. “You could have. You would have had to enter from the street outside, but…” There was a knock at the door. Draco smirked, and strode over to the door, already knowing who was behind it.
Theo rolled his eyes when Pansy stepped into Draco’s flat, her scarf obscuring the lower half of her face. “Why I didn’t think of it…” Theo mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Pansy kissed Draco on the cheek, and handed him her coat, scarf and bag. “Not bad,” she said, taking in the new flat. “Small, compared to what we’re used to.” she stepped further into the living room and went to peer into the kitchen.
While Pansy went to have a look around, Theo came to stand next to Draco. “Doing all right, mate?” he asked in a low voice.
He shrugged again. “I have my good days and bad days. Scorp helps. He doesn’t really understand…” he took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I just couldn’t live there anymore, Theo. She was everywhere. I just--I had to get out of there.”
September, 2001
Wiltshire
“What do you think, love?” Draco asked, watching nervously as Astoria stepped into the foyer of their new home. It was a bit smaller than the Manor, the grounds not nearly as big or spacious. There were only three floors, and nowhere near as many rooms or corridors as his own childhood home. Still large, but nothing compared to Malfoy Manor.
“I’d like to redecorate,” Astoria commented, inspecting every inch of the room. Draco laughed, then moved to walk alongside her. He’d been expecting that, and he had no problem with the matter. He wasn’t fond of the decor the place had come with, but they both had the money. It was never a worry.
They moved into what would be their living room, and he watched and listened as she talked about what she would change, how she wanted the furniture arranged, what paintings she would put where. He was reminded of his mother, who’d always had an eye for this sort of thing. An image of his wife and mother redecorating their new home sprang to his mind. He gazed at Astoria fondly, who was in the midst of explaining her plans for their bedroom. When she realized he wasn’t listening, she stopped and frowned at him. Before she could speak, Draco stepped forward and pulled Astoria into his arms, kissing her gently, yet passionately on the lips. “You continue to amaze me, you know that, right?” he whispered.
Astoria laughed, her cheeks turning a rosy pink. “We may be married Draco, but we’ve only known each other--I mean, really known each other a few years.”
“And now we have the rest of our lives to amaze one another,” he said, running his thumb along her jawline before dipping his head to kiss her again.
It hadn’t taken them long to unpack and setup each room. Just a few waves of their wands and everything was in order. The cutlery, bowls, plates and cups were in their cupboards. The couch was pushed into place, facing the fireplace. Pansy had taken over the task of putting out the decorations, art and other knickknacks by hand. “It isn’t something you want to do with magic, Draco. Each choice matters. They complete the room.” she said as if he should have known this. Which given who his wife had been, he probably should have. Not that he didn’t have taste, he was a Pureblood and a Malfoy, but he didn’t have that eye for it like his mother or Astoria did, and that Pansy had as well apparently. So he let her to it while he and Theo went to do Scorpius’s room as he’d promised.
When all of his furniture was unpacked, set up and in place, they’d let Scorpius put his toys in his toy bin and his books on his bookcase. They helped Scorpius put all of his clothes into his dresser, and let him line up his shoes in his closet. “All done!” Scorpius said at the end of it all, clapping his hands together and smiling proudly up at his father and Theo.
Draco picked Scorpius up and give him a big, wet kiss on the cheek, sending his toddler into giggles. “You were a big help, Scorp!” he told him. “And you did a great job letting us do our work.”
“Welcome, daddy.” he said shyly while Theo ruffled his hair.
“Can you say thank you to Uncle Theo for helping us?” Draco asked. Scorpius turned and thanked Theo.
“Sure thing, Scorp.” Theo said while looking at Draco. Getting the hint, Draco let Scorpius down and told him to go find Pansy and thank her as well. “We could stay longer, you know. It’s quarter past five anyway, we could order in dinner. The Leaky Cauldron would deliver if I paid them enough, I’m sure.”
Draco shook his head and put a hand to stop him. “Thanks, Theo. Really. For all your help today, and Pansy’s too. But I’m exhausted, and Scorp is going to be tired soon too. We were up early and I didn’t sleep well--”
“Say no more,” Theo said, though he didn’t look or sound convinced. He clapped Draco on the shoulder and left Scorpius’s bedroom. Draco stayed where he was, not wanting to be there when Theo told Pansy they were leaving now. She wasn’t going to be happy, and he expected her to put a fight. He was only partially right.
He heard the clicking of her heels against his hardwood floors, then the soft knock of her knuckles against the open door. He didn’t even turn around to face her. He couldn’t with this lump in his throat and his eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears. “You don’t always have to be alone, Draco.” he heard her say, though her tone was unusually gentle. “We loved Astoria too. We were her friends too. And I’m not…” Pansy sighed. “Sometimes, Theo and I just want to sit with you. Be around you. We don’t have to talk, about her, about anything. We love you, too. Don’t push us away…”
Draco wanted to tell her that he knew all of this. He knew they were hurting too, not in the same way he was, but they were still hurting. He knew he shouldn’t push them away, isolate himself. But every time he’d forced himself to be around his friends, or to go out in public, he’d find himself wishing that he was alone. Not to mention, it had been an exhausting day, even without the usual weight of his grief. He’d left most of his packing to last minute, which was only partially his fault, as the week prior he’d been swamped with meetings and preparing paperwork for the sale of his father’s company. He was worn out, sore, and he desperately just wanted to have a quiet meal with his son, and get him ready for him bed.
“Thanks, Pansy.” he managed to say, explaining none of his true feelings on the matter. Pansy clucked her tongue and walked away, the clicking of her heels fading with every step. When he heard Pansy and Theo say goodbye to Scorpius and the door shut behind them, Draco left his son’s bedroom to find Scorpius waddling down the hall, looking upset.
As soon as his son reached him, he said, “Daddy, why Pansy and Deo leave?” Draco sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose before picking up his son. “Daddy is really tired, Scorp. So it’s just you and me tonight, okay?” he said as patiently and kindly as he could muster at the moment.
“Okay,” Scorpius said, pouting again and casting his gaze at the ground. Draco sighed again, and carried Scorpius into the kitchen to find them something to eat.