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“And the audacity!” Draco winced as Granger slammed his goblin-made heirloom tea cup rather too loud, spiting curses like a sailor. Her fingers curled angrily around the silver handle, rage boiling over her face.
“He comes to my home, wearing the sweater and shoes that I got him, and tells me that I’m not as happening as they make me be? Can you believe it?”
“That moron’s life is meant to be a tragedy. He’s going that way.” Draco leaned forward, prying the cup away from her fingers before she destroyed it or managed to hurt herself with it.
“Don’t fuss over him. He was too dull for you anyway.”
He picked up his training satchel, stuffing into it the plan for the next week, along with the numerous schedules that Kingsley had given. He unpinned his auror trainee badge, tossing it into the drawer of his desk before gazing cautiously at the furious girl who had stormed her way into his cubicle an hour and a half ago, and had ranted non stop since then.
Chuckling, he swung the satchel over his shoulder, walked to the floo, and picked some green powder to throw over the flames.
“Hey! You’re leaving?” Granger sprung up as the green flames roared to life. Ignoring her, Draco whispered “Grimmauld’s place” before dumping the satchel through it.
“Why did you send that to Harry? And is that even a safe means of transportation? It could get lost.”
Draco rolled his eyes, picking up a briefcase that was stashed with files and throwing it into the flames, to be gone all the way to Potter’s fireplace.
“I just said something? And you’re such a mule, you did that again. Do you even think? That can block Harry's fireplace.” Swot that she was, Granger listed her morbid possibilities. Draco awarded her an easy grin, blowing off half the candles with a sweep of his hand, an easy grin on his face.
“To be honest, I’m choosing not to listen.”
“Remind me why do I even bother coming here?”
“Because I’m long-suffering and the only one who can listen to you ramble all day without losing his mind.”
“That's because you ‘choose not to listen’.” Granger huffed, air quoting and throwing his words back at him.
“Thank the universe for occlumency.” He grinned, swiping his locks off his face and settling on the sofa next to her.
“You’re the worst.”
“Absolutely. Look, I don’t know what was off with the guy you’d been using as your shagging device, but Granger, I swear to Merlin, there’s nothing bland about you. You’re the earthquake-inducing kind goddamnit, I wonder how Potter and Weasley are still so slow, given the ever-changing cinematic experience that you are.”
To his credit, Granger stopped, the rounds of her cheeks flushing before she abruptly laughed, the frown on her face burning to give way to a bright, shiny smile, and the truth of his words punched him in the gut.
Watching her was entertaining, his favorite hobby. Granger, with her millions of ideas and her awe-inspiring thinking process. Her heavenly anger outbursts and her otherworldly smile, she was a movie he could watch all day.
“Earthquake inducing, you say? You made something so destructive sound like a compliment” She grinned, heaving out a laugh before cocooning herself to his side, resting the round of her face on his bicep.
If Draco shivered from the sudden onslaught of warmth and home on his side, she chose to ignore it. Humming contentedly, she pulled on his sleeves to huddle more into the sofa, making herself more comfortable against him.
“You guys are leaving tomorrow.”
“For a month, yes.” Soft voices, speaking words in hushed whispers that wrapped like a blanket around the two of them. Her soft curls and supple skin had his mind adrift, floating somewhere in paradise.
Draco could bottle the whole thing up and survive on sips for the rest of his life.
“What will I do here without you?” Eyes closed, Granger ran the slope of her nose along the meat of his arm, closing her eyes and pressing yet further. Jets of pink smoke and balloons shot up in Draco’s mind, his chest warm and full.
“Break some curses?”
“Wouldn’t be fun if I don't get to see my three favorite faces in the halls.”
Involuntarily, his hand flattened against the curve of her head, swiping down her curls, pushing some of them behind her shoulder. Tucked under him, Granger keened, rabbits and butterflies ravaging through his stomach at how familiar this felt. Like home.
“You could always break into the department of mysteries.” He offered, anticipating the namesake punch on his chest before her hand even rose.
“Shut up. I’m trying to sleep.”
“On me? You happen to have a bed, and an apartment, which also has a nice sofa-“
“You make a good pillow.”
“The outrage!” Draco gasped dramatically, ignoring how his heart danced to the beats of her whims. “I’m scandalized! All that I am, swept aside for meager objectification! Tell me Granger- all that I amount to is a pillow?”
“A damned good one when you keep your mouth shut.”
“This is mortifying! Salazar’s beard witch, is this all I deserve after all those torturous hours of patiently listening to you?”
Her chuckle rumbled into his skin, her hands circling around his wrist.
“Consider it your price to pay for the enchanting cinematic experience I offer.”
This witch would be the death of him.
——
“I almost took your head off!”
Unperturbed, Draco turned to give a swift once-over to Granger, laughing at her flushed countenance. Wand arm poised and body in full alert mode, she must have assessed that her fireplace had been recipient to an uninvited stranger.
“Quite the welcome that is.”
“When did you come back?” He heard a thump, followed by her kicking off her heels and pattering over to him. She rounded the kitchen counter and his heart did a little jump as she came into view, strikingly beautiful and so cozy in her light pink sweater.
“This afternoon.”
“And?”
“Auror Draco Malfoy assesses that your wards are unsatisfactory,” He looked around the room, enunciating just so he could save himself from going red from her beaming smile. “Your interception charms are shit. Wasn’t it Weasley who put them up? I have to report this abysmal execution to Robards.”
“And what about your breaking in and entering, Auror Malfoy? Surely you would report that too?”
“It isn’t breaking in when you were parched for meeting me, sweetheart.” His smirk melted to an endeared smile as Hermione laughed, sweeping her hair back from her fac, tucking them behind her ear.
“Two months in the forest and your ego’s gone nowhere. You broke in, strolled into my kitchen, you have put something in my oven so I really hope the fire extinguishing charm isn’t as abysmal-”
“-Granger-”
“-And you fed my cat! Thank you! I’m surprised you were gone for so long and Crooks still didn’t bite your fingers off. What exactly are you making?”
“Apple pie.”
“Oh! Right. Was it necessary to use the oven? It's muggle, expensive, and hazardous. Besides, you cook absolutely alright with magic.”
Hermione was rambling, and with each word, her fingertips danced over the granite slab, a nervous tick Draco was more than familiar with.
Deciding he had had enough of their long-winded, wayward conversations, he circled the counter, bringing a halt to her verbose concerns. Granger spluttered to a halt as he closed in front of her, faux composure trailed over his face.
“Wonderful as this is, I didn’t break into your apartment, fix your wards and cook you a pie for nothing. I’ve dealt with Potter and Weasley for an extra month, my soul is scalded.”
Flummoxed as she was, Granger laughed, and he grinned back, falling headfirst into the pool of comfort she emanated.
“Poor you. I’m sure Harry and Ron were just as thrilled to hang around with you for two months instead of one. What went wrong?”
“Long story.” Draco winced. “Before we get to that, put me out of my misery. I, ugh. I’m- bloody starved. Of..touch.”
If he didn’t have dragons turning around in his stomach, Draco would have wondered why was he nervous about this in the first place. They were always touchy-feely, and more often than not Hermione used him as her pillow. He shouldn't have felt so mushy about this, he ought to be confident. He was asking for her affection, and she liked showering him with it. No big deal.
His eyes flickered to hers and he groaned from the flecks of wonder, along with the mirth that danced in it. Merlin, this is a big deal, Draco decided. Any chance to have her in his arms was a grandiose deal. Hermione gave him a teasing grin and he was positive he flushed a deep magenta.
“You missed my hugs?” She asked, rather cheekily.
And now she was backing him into a corner!“I never said that. I- I simply stated that I’m touched starved because I wouldn’t go about cozying up to Potter and Weasley in the middle of bloody nowhere!”
She laughed and the sound was so full it could heal every broken, crumpled heart in this world, fill them up to the brim with joy.
Hermione raised her fingers and patted his hair till more of it hung down his face, something that made him look cute, according to her.
“Again, that means you missed my hugs.” Her grin was saccharine and Draco would definitely overdose from the fluff any minute.
“Alright! No- not alright!” He jumped back, out of her reach, a scowl on his face as Granger’s eyes twinkled. “If you’re going to stand there like a little Bambi and take the piss out of me, I’d rather just leave!”
Rather grandly, he spun on his spot, regretting his stupid spiel of words and yet carrying out the actions- all for honor’s sake.
He had taken two bashful steps up ahead with no definite intention to leave when he felt a thump on his back, soft skin and determined arms wrapping around him.
“Don’t leave.” Hermione whispered, sinking into the expanse of his back and resting her full weight on him- Draco couldn’t hold his grin in.
“I’ve just got you back, wait.” She implored further, walking him backward towards the counter, never loosening her hold.
Draco could detect the thread of a tremble in her words, and he knew his absence had been equally as hard for her as it was for him.
His hands rose from his sides to cup hers which rested on his chest, basking in the warmth for another second. With a smirk, he peeled her fingers away and spun her around so she stood in front of him.
“You missed me.” His hand came to cup her cheek, and Draco relished the blush that burned on her face.
Hermione leaned into his chest, burrowing her face and nose the way she loved to, one of Draco’s arms curling around her waist while the other rested at her nape, playing with her curls.
“I wasn’t going to deny that.”
His heart could explode from the warmth, and the incessant bloom of flowers. One touch from her felt like he was bathing in ambrosia.
“And I need one more minute like this before I hex you. For being gone for an extra month and making me lose my bloody mind.”
Draco laughed, endeared by the threat. Having her engulf him, so completely and securely, it was heaven.
“If you ask so nicely.”
——
Draco had been searching for her. It was a routine for the two of them, to wind up the day’s work and go find each other.
It enabled him to moon over her and allowed her to discuss anything under the sun with him while he was at it. The two of them were some of the last people to leave the ministry because Draco found it difficult to let this wonderful witch slip away from his eyes.
He always nicked a second more of her time. Tugged her an inch closer when she jumped into his arms. Memorized the freckles on her face one more time.
He marched down the end of the corridor, in need of firewhiskey and high doses of Granger to preserve his sanity after tackling Weasley all day.
When he entered her cabin, he almost strode out thinking that it was empty.
He found her curled up in one of the chairs that remained covered in files for the better part of the year.
“Granger?”
She raised her head from the burrow of her arms, and the sight that awaited him drove an axe through his heart.
Eyes red-rimmed and glossy, tear tracks running down her cheeks, a tremble in her lips.
It was painful, gut-wrenching, seeing her like that. Draco had half a mind to storm out, hunt down whoever had done this to her, and make them wish for hell just so as to escape him.
The more persistent part of his brain yelled at him to comfort her, fix this, so she wasn't bloody crying anymore.
Kneeling in front of her, he grasped her hands in his, running his thumb over her knuckles.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
To his horror, she pulled out the bracelet that he had given to her on her birthday, studded with the gemstones gifted to the Malfoy family by dragon tamers.
“You are betrothed.” She stated with so much sorrow that Draco could feel his heart crack. He did not like where this conversation was going, or the fact that she looked like all she wished for was to bolt, far away from him.
Hermione wrenched her fingers out of his hold, placing into the hollow of his hand the dainty green thing, the emeralds studded in it mocking his very existence.
“Malfoy family jewels should only remain in the hands of their witches.” She choked, wiping a tear away while Draco furiously tried to piece the situation together, tight knuckled, a grim shadow over his face .
She did not allow him too much time to gather all his conclusions and hush the screaming in his head, but he had an idea where this was coming from.
Messily wiping her eyes, Hermione stood up and Draco’s chest caved in at the splutter of her lips, the glassiness of her eyes.
She tried to sneak out of the space between the chair and his hulking figure, but Draco wasn’t having any of it.
Clutching her wrist in a vice-like grip, he tugged her back into the chair, eyes flaring as he straightened himself and crowded her back in.
Hermione shivered as Draco slapped both hands on the sides of the wooden seat, clutching the edges till his knuckles went white, eliminating any chance of escape. When he was sure that he had all of the barmy witch’s attention on him, he spoke, words clear and final.
“There is no betrothal.”
Hermione withered, casting her eyes down. With her on the chair and him on his knees in front of her, they were seeing each other eye to eye, and Draco didn't plan on letting that allure slip out of his sight so easily.
“But there is.” Salazar, she sounded so broken. Whoever had done this had invited hell and worse. “You were always hers.”
“I was six when Lucius crafted that contract with the Greengrasses.” Draco snarled his father’s name, eyes steeled on hers, brimming with all the integrity he could find in his soul. He hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her face up. His silver-grey met her honey with all that burned in him for her, flashing to the very brim of his darkened irises.
“That contract is finalized only when the people linked in it turn seventeen and sign their approval. Neither did I sign it, nor did Astoria. Without our signatures, it's just a meaningless scrap of paper.”
Relief kicked him in the chest when Hermione’s eyes widened, curiosity and realization covering the trepidation and betrayal that swam in those brown depths.
Jaws clenched, he swallowed deeply, pushing back and opening his fist to see dents caused by the emeralds of the bracelet. He peeked up to see her betray a hesitant look at him before running her fingers along his irritated skin.
He caught her wrist swiftly, lifting the bracelet between nimble fingers and looking her straight in the eye as he clasped the delicate piece in its rightful place.
“Draco…” she whispered, eyes brimming with tears again.
“This.” He thumbed the golden chain looped around her wrist before intertwining their fingers together. “This has always belonged to you. Everything that I own has your name written on it. You are my witch, Hermione Granger.”
She choked out a sob, tugging his heartstring all over again as tears rolled down.
“Please don’t cry.” He begged, cupping her face with warm fingers and bringing her closer as if to prove his point.
“I’ve only ever belonged to you.” Draco stated, a promise of everything written all over his face. His thumb ran over her skin, brushing away the tears that still fell.
He took the liberty to swoop down and claim her lips, drinking up her tears and anguish and replacing it with all the love that he held in his wretched heart. He kissed her till all the tears dried, till she was beaming like the fragment of sunshine that she was.
Hermione refused to tell him just who had ignited the fire of misunderstanding in her, but Draco swore he would get to the bottom of it. Not now, but very soon.
Just not when they were in the middle of pillow business. Snogging and with their hands all over each other, Draco had sunk into her cozy armchair at her apartment, tugging her down with him.
Claiming her usual stance, Hermione went on to wrap her arms tightly around him, resting her face on the crook of his neck. He stroked his fingers along the length of her hair, humming contentedly as she sank in further and further in his embrace, finally drifting off.
He could get used to this.
——
“Two minutes, Granger.”
“Noo” she whined, dragging her words out sleepily as she splayed further over his chest, asserting her words by throwing her leg over his hip.
He peppered kisses all over her forehead and cheeks, playing with her hair, hoping that the onslaught of affection would be a good enough bribe to escape the bed for a second.
“Baby, I really need to pee.”
Hermione snorted, unhooking him from her vice-like grip and turning to the other side all too casually while Draco gaped, surprised by the lack of persistence on his wife’s part.
He was in and out of the loo in a minute, rushing back to the bed, frowning grandly upon finding her draped over his pillow.
That was his job.
Draco scowled at the flicker of a smirk on her lips, wrangling the pillow from under her and slipping back into the covers all while she glared at him crossly.
“I have plans to sleep in.”
“So do I.” He replied, easing a hand around her waist and dragging her to lay over his chest.
Hermione rolled her eyes, but then her grin betrayed her.
“Pillow services still on?” She laughed, nuzzling his cheeks with her nose.
“They’ll always be.”