Heidi

Let The Dark In by @senlinyu

Art by @avendell

Chapter 1/? Rated: Mature

Summary: In a world where the rise of Voldemort never occurred, Wizarding society has found new ways to repress and exclude those they consider outsiders. Hermione Granger attends Hogwarts as one of the few Muggle-born students and despite her efforts to make a place for herself, her future seems set in stone, until Sixth Year, when the Triwizard Tournament is announced and everything begins to change.

“Bloody hell,” Ron says from beside her. “I think that blond tosser in the front is a Malfoy.”

She tears her eyes away to stare at Ron. “A who?”

He laughs and points at the blond boy. “Malfoy. I dunno his first name, but he’s definitely got to be a Malfoy. Old pureblood family from here in Britain. Bastards, the lot of them. Always Slytherins here at Hogwarts. Heard his dad sent him to Durmstrang because he didn’t want his son near any Muggle-borns.”

“You’re so old now.”

Draco blinked into his morning tea before looking up to glare at the place where his wife, the light of his life, sat across the table from him.

“Granger.”

She looked up at him, her gaze innocent. “Do you think you’ll turn grey first, or just go white?”

Draco set his teacup down into its saucer with an audible click. “I’m forty.”

She gave an assenting hum and bit into her toast. Left in peace, he lifted his cup back up to sip his tea.

“You could go bald.”

He choked and nearly dropped his teacup onto his eggs.

“I’m forty,” he growled the words. “I have no intention of balding or greying anytime soon.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t your maternal grandfather bald?”

His jaw twitched as he gave a begrudging nod of admission and suppressed the urge to reach up and feel his hairline.

Hermione was lazily stirring her tea. “Male pattern baldness comes from the maternal side.”

Draco set his newspaper down. “Is there something you want?”

She shook her head. “I‘m just thinking aloud.”

Draco turned back to his paper, but couldn’t do a damn thing but wonder what had inspired the line of thought. Was his hairline receding? He was certain he would have noticed while dressing that morning, but now he suddenly doubted everything.

His grandfather Cygnus had been bald...

All the words on his paper seemed to say “Bald. Bald. Bald.”

He set his paper down with a snap and stood without a word, stalking from the room.

His hair looked the same. He studied his reflection in the hallway mirror carefully, trying to check his hairline from all angles.

A peal of laughter floated down the hallway. He looked over to find Hermione gripping the doorframe and shaking with semi-suppressed laughter.

He glowered as she came towards him. “You are a cruel witch. You can’t throw male pattern baldness in a man’s face on his birthday. You’re already forty. I would never say a word about—“

Her eyes widened incrementally.

Draco’s jaw hung ajar for a split-second. “About—about anything. Because there’s nothing I could comment on. You’re ageless.”

Her eyes were dancing with amusement. “Right. Well, that’s only because you’re a better liar. Your mother is going to spoil you all day, someone needs to be a little bit mean to keep you from getting pretentious again.”

Draco snorted and rolled his eyes as she reached him and straightened his collar in a manner that appeared demure but was fundamentally possessive. “You could just be a sweet wife for a day. We could try it—as an experiment.”

She leaned closer until her breath fanned against his throat. “I’m not sure I can manage a whole day.” Her voice dropped low and sultry. “I’ll be sweet tonight.”

A shiver crept down his spine and he bit his lip. “Well, I suppose an evening is a start.”

The corner of her mouth curved upwards, and her eyes crinkled into a familiar, happy pattern. ”It’s possible I’ll grow docile with age.”

Draco scoffed and eyed her. “Unlikely. I intend to be stuck with you this way. What would I even do with a compliant spouse?”