Hermione barely registered the burning skin on her wrist.
She and Ron had stumbled off the old broom and let go of the unconscious Goyle who dropped unceremoniously to the floor. As Harry and Malfoy shot out of the Room of Requirement, Malfoy slumped next to Goyle, breathing hard and stammering Crabbeās name.
She didnāt pay any attention to Harry and Ron or to the Headless Hunt passing them.
Not now, youāre being stupid, she scolded herself mentally as she watched Malfoyās ashen face from the corner of her eye. How, just how did he always manage to become the centre of her attention?
āShall we split up and look ā?ā
āNoā, said Hermione, now rising to her feet as well. She tore her eyes away from Malfoy, whose eyes now flickered between herself and where the door to the Room had been. āLetās stick together. I say we go ā Harry, whatās that on your arm?ā
āWhat? Oh, yeah āā
Harry pulled Ravenclawās diadem from his wrist and held it up. It was oozing a black liquid, tainting the once beautiful piece of jewellery.
āIt must have been Fiendfyre!ā observed Hermione, eyeing the diadem warily.
āSorry?ā
āFiendfyre ā cursed fire ā itās one of the substances that destroy Horcruxes, but I would never, ever have dared use it, itās so dangerous. How did Crabbe know how to ā?ā
She stopped, almost not daring to look into Malfoyās face but losing track of Harryās and Ronās continued discussion nonetheless. His skin was burned on his wrist as well, a fiery snake had snapped at them the moment Malfoy pushed as hard as he could to get Goyleās body on the wobbly broom behind Hermione.
As she registered his burn, she unconsciously touched hers, hissing in the process.
It helped her to snap out of it.
āBut donāt you realise? This means, if we can just get the snake āā
She was interrupted by the noise of ugly fighting down the corridor. They all looked towards the noise and saw a number of death eaters ā and telling red hair. Harry and Ron sprinted towards the other Weasleys without looking back.
Hermione couldnāt stop herself now.
She dropped beside Malfoy and hugged him.
āYou donāt have a wand.ā
He hesitated for one moment, but then reciprocated her touch.
āYouāre injured, Draco. Iāll āā
āNo.ā
His voice was surprisingly firm, and it startled her so much, she instantly retreated. He did look rather pathetic, hair singed from the Fiendfyre, still slumped against the wall, his unconscious lackey taking up a ridiculous amount of space next to Malfoyās skinny figure. Still, he quickly shot his hand out to grasp hers.
āI didnāt mean to ā I meant āā
āGrangerā, it took Malfoy everything to keep his voice calm, Hermione could tell. His fingers were shaking despite the stability her own hand offered. Then he tentatively started stroking her hand, eliminating the shaking sensation. āIāll be fine. Just make sure youāre safe.ā
āBut I can stay āā
āNo you bloody canāt!ā
His angry tone now shocked Hermione and she fought hard to hold back tears. He would not make her cry now.
āYouāre being stupid, Hermione. Go to your friends. I know you want to.ā
He was right, she knew. Breathing hard, she stood up and faced the battle between the Weasleys, Harry, and the Death Eaters. She nodded and looked at Malfoy one last time before finally shooting up, her wand buzzing in her hand already.
She started sprinting towards them as she heard him once more.
āJust the snake, you said?ā
She nodded, knowing he only understood parts of their previous conversation. Nevertheless, he seemed to grasp the overall implication.
āBe safe for me, Granger.ā
It had never been harder for Hermione to turn her back on him.
---
Authorās notes:Ā The dialogue was in parts taken from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.Ā
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Four portraits of Astoria were placed across the manor.
Each was beautiful in its own regard ā the tall, slender woman being surrounded by peach blossoms, sunflowers, chrysanthemums, and winterberries, respectively. Draco Malfoy had commissioned each portrait of his late wife symbolising a season after she had passed far too young, leaving her grieving husband and distraught son. Draco had wanted to make sure that she would be remembered in every corner of the haunting, old mansion and be a part of their family around the year without seeming eerily misplaced. He had also hoped for a symbolism of eternity ā an endless circle of the four seasons, although this notion now struck him as a bit melodramatic.
Astoria had been Dracoās ray of sunshine in an otherwise bleak youth. She was caring, smart, empathetic, and funny. Astoriaās heart was open for anyone and she treated all people and creatures equally respectful. Astoria would listen patiently and give thorough advice even at a young age. Astoria was missed by her family and friends alike, none of which could believe they had lost her so early in life. Her portraits seemed so much more alive, so much more present than other portraits of deceased persons.
Hermione passed her quickly then, thinking about mentioning the mood to Draco but quickly deciding otherwise. Astoria had been perfect on every account and Hermione, distinguished former minister of magic and all, had felt quite small every time Draco spoke of his late wife. It was difficult not to believe that Astoriaās grimace had been due to Hermioneās presence in the manor.
Such thoughts plagued Hermione āthe original overthinkerā Granger until she and Draco had an āofficialā meeting with Astoria (her summery version) where Dracoās late wife proved to be everything he had made her to be. She was interested in Hermioneās career, but more so her well-being, she was witty and snorted at the right names when Hermione told stories straight out of the Wizengamot. Even her snort was charming. Glancing at Draco during their conversation, Hermione spotted a wistful look in his eyes and she had to admit then that even without knowing her much, she missed Astoria herself.
Hermione was all the more surprised ā and irritated, if she was being honest with herself ā when she walked past chrysanthemum-Astoria sometime later only to find the other woman rather irritable and tight-lipped again. In this moment, Hermione did not know how to react (or act ā situation far from clear: Astoria had barely returned her own greeting) and so she stomped on, inwardly fuming. Was she mad at Astoria for putting on an act when Draco was around? Was Draco part of this scheme and did he care how this made her feel at all?
She was able hold back during dinner and focused instead on Dracoās recital of his new publication on the side effects of pepper-up potion. However, later, she couldnāt get herself to respond to his hands or mouth, made a half-hearted excuse and so they went to bed rather irritated on both sides. Hermione had a hard time feeling bad, even when Dracoās last words before finally falling asleep were āI donāt care if we have sex once a day or once a month, Iād just wish youād be honest with meā.
When sleep wouldnāt come, Hermione finally made a decision. She slipped out from under the heavy blanket, made sure Draco was still fully covered and tip-toed out of the room.
Astoria looked ethereal in her white dress, sitting on a stone bench, surrounded by masses of snow and framed by little red specks ā winterberries. This time, she full acknowledged Hermione but did not speak once again.
I must not be jealous of a dead woman, Hermione had told herself all over all evening and yet here she was, feeling both jealous and nervous in front of a painting.
āGood evening, Astoria.ā
āHello, Hermione. What brings you here?ā
Astoriaās tone was levelled and Hermione was even more jealous that the woman in front of her seemed so capable of perfect containment when necessary. During her time in office, she had frequently been criticised for being too emotional. (Too emotional ā hah. Hermione usually had gotten angry, linking this label to her femininity and lecturing an overwhelmed Ron about the relationship between emotions and gender. He had trouble understanding. Draco had been with her from the first second ā he was now avidly reading de Beauvoir).
āI uhmāā, Hermione began, scolding herself for thinking about jealousy when walking to the portrait instead of coming up with a sensitive question.
āDo you want to know how to please Draco best? I have a fewāā
āWhat? No!ā
Hermione had been shouting and now listened carefully for Draco down the hallway, cursing herself mentally for being so clumsy. Nothing happened. Relieved, she looked back up at Astoria who now seemed rather amused.
āI ā¦ Iām sorry, this might come across as incredibly rude, butā, Hermione took a deep breath, āare you, by any chance, really unhappy that Draco is with me?ā
Astoriaās eyes widened in shock. āWhat?ā
āItās justā¦ā, again, Hermione had to breathe awkwardly before continuing, āI couldnāt help but notice that you were so lovely when we spoke with Draco, but every time Iām walking past you by myself, you seem ā¦ sulking?ā
Hermione rolled her eyes inwardly at her own unelaborate phrasing. But before she could correct herself, Astoria had jumped up from her bench (did it look Ancient Greek?) and took a step towards Hermione.
āHermione, what? Iām so sorry I came across this rude!ā
What?
This was surely not what Hermione had expected.
āOh no, Iām so sorry, truly. I should not have jumped to conclusions.ā
Come again?
Hermioneās face must have mirrored her confusion because Astoria now awkwardly shuffled strands of long, dark, straight hair out of her face hectically.
āItās just that āā
Astoria now seemed lost for words as she helplessly flapped her arms and looked around.
āYou seeā, she began cautiously, āI was never the biggest fan of flowers.ā
Hermioneās eyes widened.
āOf course, theyāre beautiful et cetera, but I had a ridiculous hay fever that could barely be treated with potions and my green thumb was non-existent. My relationship to flowers is rocky at best. Youāre right, Iām sulking. I know Draco loved me dearly and he wanted the best for me, Scorpius, and himself after I passed. Of course, he wanted to have me portrayed as memorable as possible. But all thisā, again, she helplessly moved her arms and Hermione now realised that she meant all four versions of herself, all the flowery beauty, the references to goddesses and eternal beauty and wisdom, āthat is not the essence of who I was.ā
Hermione had felt foolish already, but Astoriaās final statement was too much. āIām a family person. I would have pictured myself with them, I guess. And I love Draco. I always will and this is why I will never complain to him. When he told me you were with him now, I was unbelievably happy for him. You do him justice, Hermione. You understand him ā maybe even better than I ever did. And I let my guard down because I felt this was possible around you. You seemed to be the person I could trust with my exasperation. I just never mentioned it to you, which was very stupid on my part.ā
Astoria now shook her head. Hermione was stunned.
āFlower girl, can you believe it?ā
Astoriaās bone-dry tone drove Hermione over the edge. She started giggling. Astoriaās initial silence turned into a hearty laugh after a few moments as well and ā to Hermioneās surprise and delight ā Astoria let out tiny snorts.
āIn all honesty thoughā, Hermione said when they had calmed down, holding her ribs from laughter. āI do see it. The melodrama and all.ā
They kept laughing.
āFeel free to sulkā, Hermione added after a few seconds, luring a few snorts from Astoria.
Draco rolled his eyes and closed the door to his bedroom, going back to bed before Hermione realised his feet were cold when she eventually came back. He should have known these two women were a lethal combination.
*
Authors notes:
Hi again!
This one was a lot of fun to write, despite containing very little Draco. Itās been a headcanon of mine for a while that he would glorify Astoria after her death (in a universe where their marriage took place and all, that is) and that Astoria herself would feel some kind of way about it, bonding over it with Hermione. Hope you guys enjoyed it!
Also, the initial premise of this blog was once that I would also happilypublish drabbles written by other authors and that I would take prompts. Just so you know. :)
Finally: HELLO to all my new followers! This almost vacant account (revived after six years!) grew by ca. 25% after only one post last week (and this post also became the most successful one to date). Thank you all so much and what a pleasure to have you. I also have a multifandom-blog where I usually am which you can find under @ahoidraco if youāre interested.Ā
Hermione returned later from work than usual ā she carried a massive, new monstera.
Draco watched her from the couch as she struggled to get the monster(a; Draco had to congratulate himself on that one) through the door and then up the stairs. Hermione decidedly ignored him as she wobbled down the hall towards their office.
Sighing, Draco put his bookmark into his latest read, a very unrealistic portrayal of magic and some heroās journey written by an admittedly resourceful ā especially in the field of linguistics ā muggle called Tolking or something. He followed Hermione up the stairs and brushed aside the leaves of the philodendron to the right side of the staircase.
Hermione never used magic when she acquired new plants. She also never used magic when she took care of them. Watering and fertilisation would have been quite easy magically, but she instead opted for the non-magical way, having lost quite a few of the plants in the process. Hermione had no green thumb to speak of.
Draco had begun to make sure he secretly helped out whenever he saw one of her green companions sporting a brown spot.
He found Hermione sitting under the massive new monstera with her eyes closed, humming her favourite childrenās song as always when she came home with a new plant. The whole office was reminiscent of a jungle at this point and Draco was surprised the giant of a newcomer had found a space at all. Hermione reached the final notes of her lullaby and Draco swiftly made his way across the room, embracing her just as she started to sob. As always when she came home with a new plant.
āIām sorry, Draco.ā
He sighed. āIām always telling you there is nothing to be sorry about. Itās a nice addition.ā
A sound somewhere in between sob and small laugh came from her throat. Hermione absent-mindedly stroked her belly which now grew by the day.
āIām only mad at you because youāre really not supposed to carry heavy things and this monstera is, you know, a true monster.ā
Draco tried to sound stern but couldnāt. Not when Hermione was not crying anymore and when her head now rested against his chest.
āYouāve made that one up as I walked into the house, didnāt you.ā
Hermione didnāt even bother to phrase it as a question, so he didnāt reply at all.
She had had many plants before the pregnancy ā but there had been a more or less weekly addition to the collection ever since they had found out about the baby. While Hermione was in good spirits most of the time, the pain of not being able to restore her parentsā memories had returned with her own immanent prospect of parenthood.
This had been the first wave of obsession for flora: Hermione felt she would be close to her parents, especially her mother and her green thumb, when owning plants and caring for them the way she had seen as a child. A beautifully green house and a happy Hermione had been the result.
With the pregnancy came an excessive amount of house plants and eventually the tears.
And yetā¦
āI might have used a wandless wingardium on this one.ā
Draco looked down into Hermioneās face, tears now dry on her reddened cheeks. She seemed caught in between pride and some strange embarrassment. Her skin looked so soft from above.
āAre you joking? This is fantastic!ā
āDraco, youāre crushing me!ā
She was laughing now, and so was Draco. He hugged her a little less tight but made sure she was still flush against his torso.
āI also think we have enough plants.ā
This time he didnāt reply. He just held Hermione firmly as she stared up to the monsteraās leaves and smiled.
Draco kissed her massive hair and Hermione sighed happily.
Authorās notes:Ā
A proper short drabble! Yay! Thanks for reading, everyone.Ā
āListen, Iām positive you wonāt have all this uncertainty and shit, but Iām serious this time.ā
Hermione looked up angrily at Draco and didnāt reply. He had expected her to react in this fashion and was not irritated by it.
āI have made a mistake by leaving you. I know Iām not good with honest words, and Iām only going to say this once.ā
Merlin, not good with words was the funniest understatement he had ever come up with. He couldnāt remember one time where he ever told her how he felt. Why she kept up with this behaviour without a single complaint was beyond him. And he, being the moron he had always been, had to ruin it all within none more than five minutes.
āFirst, Iām sorry Iām interrupting work. But I knew you would never let me floo into your flat.ā
She nodded twice, apparently acknowledging (not accepting) his apology and agreeing on the latter.
āSecondly, I would like to apologise for my behaviour on Sunday. I was an idiot, I see it now.ā
She nodded again, but her face did not change. No relief, not even anger. He was tempted to use Legilimency on her but that would not have been fair.
āThirdly, and also lastly, I want to tell you how much you mean to me and how much I miss you. I really do. All this time with you ā¦ā
Draco sighed in defeat. Talking about feelings was exhausting and he was definitely rubbish in all his attempts so far.
āAll this time with you I was so happy. I thought I needed a change lately, but I just wasnāt happy with myself anymore. Iām not going to say āItās not you, itās meā, but I just completely miscalculated the whole thing. I have never been so wrong.ā
He could now see that something in Hermioneās face changed. She looked sad, and it hurt him like not even his own feelings had hurt in the last four days. He quickly strode behind her desk, puller her up and hold onto her.
āI miss you so much, Granger. Please come back.ā
Hermione slowly nodded into his chest.Ā
.
.
.
Short note: Sorry for the long wait, I try to write more in December :) Might be doing less in Janaury again because exams in late February.Ā
Also, follow my mainĀ blogĀ for imaginary cookies and love!
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And suddenly, all the feelings she had suppressed for so long hit her straight. The anxiety, the fear, these funny, happy moments. Oh, they had been so rare back in the days.
Hermione remembered every second as if it had happened just now, the moment they had shared their first intimately shared thoughts and touches, the many fights. And, of course, every time they found one another again, in the unlikeliest of moments. After dinner, shortly before potions. Weird, but special seconds, always having in mind that someone could find them and therefore making it as short as possible.
A tiny kiss. A tiny touch. Sometimes only a smile, sometimes less.
They had always found one another again, for almost two years, until Dumbledoreās death.
Ā -
Hermione did not dare looking at him any longer, knowing it would probably break her more than the crazy witch standing over her.
Instead, she silently watched as Bellatrix laughed manically and pulled out a dagger.
This was going to hurt.
It was probably going to hurt more than the curses.
āIāll ask you once more, Mudblood! Where did you get this fucking sword?ā
āWe found itā, Hermione sobbed, having trouble speaking at all. āWe found it in a forest, and- No! Please!ā
She watched as the dagger came closer to her arm and started to scream as Bellatrix started carving her stigma into her skin.
Hermione heard herself screaming as if she was outside her own body. It was terrifying.
Her eyes opened once again, locking with Dracoās this time.Ā She couldnāt resist.
And once again, just like all these times in school, she knew everything was going to be okay. He was just as terrified as she seemed to be, but they would get out of there. Together.
