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"How would you choose the day, Potter?” Malfoy snapped, his eyes locked on the glass case in front of him. At her.
"How would you choose the last day of the woman you love?” he continued with a softer tone. His eyes left the case and turned to the man before him.
“I don’t know.”
“Then why are you making me do it?!” Draco snapped, taking a step forward and pressing a finger into his chest accusingly as if to blame himself.
“Because it will save lives.”
Draco’s eyes widened.
–----
40 Years Ago…
“Malfoy?”
Draco’s head turned.
Merlin, she looked so different. Her hair wasn’t that insane mane she used to flaunt around at Hogwarts. It was controlled, falling in tight curls down her back. Her teeth weren’t taking up the forefront of her mouth, they were even and white. She looked beautiful if he had to choose a word. He couldn’t tell her that out loud of course. He would never admit that to her. She was still the Golden Girl, part of Potter’s “Invincible Trio”.
And yet…he couldn’t help but notice the woman she had become. She had matured. She was not the same girl he had tried to compete with in class, the same one he had called names constantly, the one he had noticed at his trial after the battle.
“Hello, Granger.”
35 Years Ago…
“Granger!” He shouted down the hall. He fixed the cufflink on his shirt before sliding the remainder of his robes around his shoulders. Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, he fixed a stray piece of hair out of his eyes.
“For the love of Merlin…Granger!” he shouted again. They were going to be late. They might miss the speeches.
There was a click of heels and she appeared. She was fixing the rest of her earring, her head tilted to the side. Draco’s eyes scanned the rest of her.
Slytherin green, that minx.
The dress hugged her waist and hips before it stopped below her knees. It slid up past her shoulders and came out in long billowing sleeves that rested at her wrists. Her hair was flowing down her back, the sides clipped down with little gold pins. She came closer and he took in her shoes that snaked around her ankles in the form of…
Draco let out a chuckle. Snakes.
“Ready?” she smiled, throwing her hair over her shoulder.
he planted a kiss on her hand. “You are captivating.”
A blush appeared across her cheeks.
“Hush,” she drew her hand back bashfully. He helped her into her robes and held the door open for her.
“After you, my darling.”
She only blushed more. Merlin, he loved his witch.
30 Years Ago…
He was sitting on the couch, a book in his hand when he heard her come in. He glanced up past the pages. She was wearing his quidditch jersey with a pair of what he learned are called sweatpants. She looked gorgeous. She paced over to him and he lifted his arms so she could sit in between his legs. A common position for them nowadays.
“Have you finished?”
She hummed in agreement, her eyes scanning the pages of his book.
“And?”
“I was right, of course. Unicorns are more endangered than we thought. Biggin’s entire case is practically useless as the evidence I found counters everything he’s trying to prove!”
Draco smiled down at his beautiful wife. Her dedication to her work continued to amaze him. He knew she would never retire, not if she could prevent it. Even after all of these years. He planted a kiss on the top of her head. She shifted to stare at him, taking in all of his features.
“Your hair is starting to get long,” She teased with a smile. His hand immediately went to the back of his head. She was indeed right. He must have been so busy that he hadn’t noticed.
“I like it,” she admitted before turning around. Draco stared at her for a moment before bringing the book up so she could read with him. What a beautiful woman she was.
--
Draco rolled over, his arm outstretched to bring her closer. His hand hit empty and cold sheets. Opening his eyes, he looked around groggily. It was still dark outside. When turning to the side, he found that the clock read 2:34.
Groaning, he rolled over and sat up. A sound came from the bathroom, adjacent to the bedroom.
“Hermione?” He stood outside the door, noticing the light underneath. There was a moment before he pushed it open.
The sound came again and he rushed forward as her head bent over the side of the toilet. His heart began to race.
“Darling?” he crouched beside her. She turned to look at him. Her eyes were glassy, her bottom lip wavering. He noticed a thin layer of sweat along her hairline. Fear gripped him as he realized how scared she looked. Draco looked down at the water, noticing the red color that had stained it. There was red on her lips as well. Red overtop of the pale pink. What was happening?
“Draco,” Hermione croaked. He drew her closer, wrapping his arms around her. She rested her head on his chest as he stared at the water. He would never forget her face. Her beautiful face looked so afraid…
29 Years Ago…
Draco tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair. The doctor shifted in his seat before resting his hands together. “Explain it to me again.”
“She will have 5 treatments, all of them chemotherapy. Once that is over, we will do a few rounds of radiation. If all of that goes well, there will not be much left to do. If the cancer still progresses, we will have to have another talk about alternative treatments that will best suit her.”
“Some of those may be surgeries, correct?”
“Yes, that is correct.”
Draco leaned back in his chair before immediately leaning forward again. He had to ask. For her. All for her. Always for her.
“What is the percentage of success?”
“About 60%.”
Good odds, he thought. This could work. This had to work.
-
“Darling?” He stepped onto the threshold, hanging his coat up beside hers. There was no response. Draco’s heart began to race again and he jogged to the bedroom. The sheets were empty.
Fear gripped his chest again. “Hermione?” The light under the bathroom was on again. Images began to flash into his mind, images of the year before. He opened the door quickly.
She was standing in front of the mirror. She was still in her pajamas. Her eyes didn’t meet his, they were only staring at her reflection.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” she whispered. It sounded more like a secondary reaction.
“What are you doing?” his voice was wavering, he couldn’t help it.
“My skin…” Her hand pressed into her cheek. Draco knew what she was noticing. His bright witch, noticing everything.
She had lost weight, lots of it. Her face was not as round as it used to be, and her eyes were not as bright. Her curls had even begun to flatten into waves. It was as if her entire being had started to wilt. His beautiful witch had noticed all of this.
“I spoke with the doctor,” He stepped closer, pressing his front to her back.
Her hand dropped from her cheek. She was still staring into the mirror.
“We spoke of some new treatments, ones that will help fight it better.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her head. She nodded, her eyes becoming distant.
“When can they start?”
“As soon as we can, love.”
Her eyes finally left her reflection and stared up at his. She only nodded.
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
He wished the corners of her mouth would turn up, even just a little.
--
“Pass the salt?” Draco wiped his finger on his apron, extending his hand. Nothing happened. He turned. She was staring at the mantel, at the large picture that was in the center. Their wedding night.
He had her in his arms, bridal style. Her hair was above her in an upwards style. Their foreheads were pressed together, their eyes closed but smiles on their faces. Draco could remember that night so vividly. She looked absolutely stunning. There was a smile on his face the entire night. He had married the most beautiful woman in all of England.
Hermione touched the frame, right on her face. “Remember the toast Harry made?”
“I do. It was quite humorous,” Draco recalls. Potter had a few drinks in him and talked about how much he had come to like Draco. It was quite adorable. Ron nearly had to push him to sit down because he wouldn’t stop talking.
“Would you like to dance again?” she turned to look at him.
Without hesitation Draco waved a hand back to the stove, casting a stasis charm. He removed his apron and draped it over the table. He then waved his hand towards the stereo. A classical piece began to play.
Draco drew her into his arms. Hermione placed her head on his chest and intertwined her fingers with his. He let them sway back and forth. He extended her out to twirl her around. She let out a giggle that made his heart race. Merlin, how he had missed that sound. Such a wonderful laugh she had. He went to move her again when she stumbled. Draco’s arms immediately caught her and brought her back up.
“Are you okay, love?” He quickly responded. Was something wrong? Did she need water? Her arms grasped his and she nodded, her eyes shut. He quickly brought her to the couch and sat her down. Her chest was rising in heavy breaths.
“Hermione?” he stared up at her from his kneeling position.
“I’m okay,” she nodded. Her eyes began to open and she gave him a small smile. He conjured a glass of water, just in case.
“Can we finish the dance?”
Draco picked her up without hesitation. The corners of her mouth upturned as she recognized the resemblance. Closing her eyes, she pressed her forehead to his. He closed his eyes with her. His beautiful wife.
28 Years Ago…
Draco rubbed his temples tiredly, listening to the doctor shifting in his chair. “Can you please explain this to me again?”
“The treatment isn’t working as quickly as we thought it would. The chemotherapy has decreased the mass but the radiation is not working as fast as we thought it would.”
Draco took a deep breath before looking over at her. Her eyes were on the doctor, unmoving. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, her forefinger picking at the skin on her thumb. Her hands were so small and pale now, the skin becoming more dry.
Draco took her hand, linking her fingers with his before staring back at the doctor.
“What does this mean for me?” Hermione spoke up.
“We can keep going with a more aggressive form and see how that goes. If that doesn’t work, we can look at alternative options such as surgery or-”
His voice broke off. Draco’s head perked up.
“Or?” Was there hope for something else? Something they hadn’t thought of already?
The doctor shifted again in his seat, adjusting the glasses perched on his nose.
“Perhaps this is a conversation between the two of us,” his eyes were on Draco. He felt his pulse increase.
Hermione’s hand went still in his.
“No, Hermione can be here for this. Surgery or what?” Draco snapped at the man in front of him. He was tired of this and just wanted some damn answers!
“We can pursue options such as surgery or perhaps look at a timeline and set up appropriate housing to prepare.”
Draco’s blood went cold.
--
“No, no, no,” Draco shook his head, running a hand through his hair.
Hermione huffed, bringing the blanket further around her legs. “Can we just discuss it?” she protested.
Draco shook his head, refusing. He couldn’t do this, he just couldn’t. He would do anything, anything for her. Anything except-
“Draco!” She shouted at him, voice raising.
“I can’t!” he whirled around to face her. She was twisting her hair into a bun, her fingers moving the hair to adjust the bald spots. She refused to cut it off and he didn’t press her. She knew how much he loved her hair in all its forms.
Tying the knot, she brought her hands down to her lap again, putting them under the blanket. It had been a gift from Molly, charmed to always keep her warm against the chill she had all the time. The blanket was Gryffindor colors, resulting in a victorious smirk from Hermione towards Draco when she opened the parcel not too long ago. He had waved her off with a smirk, reminding her of his Slytherin Quidditch hoodie she always loved to wear.
“I can’t do this!” He yelled again. It didn’t get rid of the determined look on her face. He knew too well that once she had that look…there was no going back.
“I-” his voice cracked and he stepped back. He ran another hand through his hair.
She raised off the couch, padding across the carpet towards him. Her fingers found his hair, twisting in the strands that were peeking from under his ear.
“Your hair is starting to get long,” she noted. He nodded to her, noticing the light freckles around her nose. Despite everything, they were still there. Despite…everything…
“I like it,” she admitted, the corners of her mouth lifting. It made his heart race, causing his mouth to upturn. Her eyes scanned his as she held his face, running her thumbs back and forth. He closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling. It felt like so long since she had done this.
“Draco,” he heard the plea in her voice and he opened his eyes immediately.
“I’m dying.”
His heart stopped and he tried to pull away, breaking eye contact. No, no no. She wasn’t dying. She was alive and breathing and in front of him, for Merlin’s sake!
Her hands kept him in place.
“Listen to me,” she pleaded again, more insistent this time. He stopped, turning his head and looking at her. Tears were running down her face. He wiped them away immediately, as he always would. He couldn’t tear away from the determined look in her eyes.
“I’m dying,” she repeated. A tear escaped his eye.
“What you’re asking of me is-” he started.
“I know. But I’m not giving up yet.”
His eyebrows raised as he took in the determined witch before him.
--
Draco hung up his jacket next to hers, stepping out of his shoes and closing the door. Moving further into the house, he immediately went to the library. That’s where she seemed to take residency in the recent weeks. Knocking on the door and pushing it open, his theory was correct.
She was sitting in the armchair, feet resting on the footrest and Molly’s blanket across her lap. The fire was roaring beside her, casting light on something she was writing in her lap.
“Hello, love,” Draco greeted as he came closer, placing a kiss on her forehead. She smiled at the touch before returning to writing. Waving a hand to levitate a glass and water, he glanced down at what she was working on. He recognized drawings of a brain, of neurons and pathways. It almost looked like what the doctor had shown them at their appointments.
“What are you working on?”
“Just some research.”
“About?” He offered the glass to her. She took it and took a few sips before setting it on the table beside hers.
“My condition.”
He stopped moving. Why would she-
“I thought that I might be able to write everything I can remember, everything the doctors told me, maybe run some tests..” her voice ran off.
“Why would you need to do that? The doctor-”
“Is doing the best he can, I know,” she finished for him. Draco knew that she wasn’t convinced.
28 Years Ago…
“Are you sure about this?” Draco squeezed her hand, staring down at her. She was staring ahead.
She turned and gazed up at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Draco stared at her. She had that look in her eyes. The one he had missed. The one he had yearned to see for months. It had disappeared with each day. Yet, here it was again. It scared the shit out of him.
He couldn’t find an answer to her question. He knew she was sure. Draco had sat with her, for hours each day, going over this. Reading and rereading. Emails, phone calls, visits. Each one was more informational than the last. He had sat with her and listened to her. He double-checked her numbers, monitored her vitals, everything.
The door clicked open, interrupting any answer he might have given. His hand didn’t leave hers as they walked in.
The office looked the same each time they had visited. The walls were white, it smelled like bleach. It freaked Draco out, but he would never tell her. This whole idea freaked him out.
“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Granger-Malfoy,” the doctor stood near the table, next to the machine. Draco’s heart rate picked up. He wasn’t ready, he couldn’t do this.
“Hello,” Hermione greeted back. Draco was only staring at the machine. He had seen pictures, had read the articles, everything. Nothing could prepare him for this. His heart felt heavy in his chest, her hand felt like nothing in his. He couldn’t do this.
There was speaking going on around him. Draco didn’t hear it. He could hear Hermione’s voice.
The doctor stepped forward, a kind smile on his lips. “Are you ready, Hermione?”
Draco snapped out of his haze and stared at the doctor. He wasn’t ready. He needed more time. He needed-
“Doctor, could you give us a few minutes alone?”
The man nodded and they were alone. There was silence. Draco didn’t know where to start. He was running out of time. He needed to go back.
“Draco, look at me.”
He couldn’t. He couldn’t stare at her. He just couldn’t.
Her voice hardened. “Draco”. There was a crack.
He turned his head. There were tears in her eyes. He hated seeing her cry. No matter how many times she cried. He hated it.
“I’m going to be okay.”
He shook his head. He wasn’t.
“I-”
“We’ve looked at this for months. The research is solid, the doctors promised."
“To hell with the doctors,” Draco snapped abruptly. He couldn’t take this anymore.
He turned, holding both of her hands. They were so cold now, so frail. Her mouth was ajar.
“To hell with the doctors, with this whole thing. We can go back and I can take care of you. I’ve taken enough time off, I’ll set up the bed in the library so you can read all the time. I can move everything in there just to,” his voice was hurried. He just had to tell her. Before.
“Draco,” she whispered. Her eyes still had that glint.
“I can’t live without you,” his voice was cracking, he knew. He had promised to stay strong for her. For them. Her eyes softened. A hand touched his cheek, moving to his neck where his hair had grown past his shoulders.
“And I without you. But this isn’t living. I’m going to die soon and with this,” She gestured to the machine. Draco refused to look at it.
“I can help so many people. I can save lives.”
“But what about me?” Draco whispered. He hated to put himself first. Everything was about her. His life was her. It always would be.
“I will always be here. Quite literally,” she let out a chuckle. He let out a small chuckle with her.
He pressed a kiss to her hands. “I love you so much.”
She smiled at him, her eyes bright. He had missed that look so much. He wished he had more time with it. The door clicked open behind them. Draco’s heart lurched. He wasn’t ready for this.
“Are we ready?”
Hermione’s eyes searched his. She was waiting for him.
“Yes,” Draco answered.
She was taken to the table. Draco watched as her vitals were taken. She was changed into different clothes which hung off her. She listened to every word, nodding along. Draco only watched her. She wanted this. He couldn’t deny her that.
She stepped into the case. It hummed. Draco stepped closer, his heart racing. The doctor moved around the case, checking everything. Hermione stared at him.
Draco felt tears pricking his eyes. She smiled at him, almost in reassurance. He smiled back at her, feeling his heart break. She was saving lives.
“I love you,” She spoke to him before the door hissed shut.
Draco stood there as the doctor explained everything to him. The vitals, the weekly checks. He tuned him out. He just watched as her eyes slowly shut and the machine did its work. He knew how it worked. They had studied it for weeks. Months.
“I’d like her to be with me,” Draco interrupted the doctor.
“Of course, Draco.”
Draco stared at her. He had promised her. He would not open it. He would never enter the code. No matter what.
Present Day
“Because it will save lives.”
Draco’s eyes widened.
It would save lives but what about hers?
Draco moved away from Potter and closer to the case. She looked so peaceful. Her eyes were shut and her hair fanned out around her figure. How could he do this? How could he tell her that she needed to do this, that she needed to come out? How could he tell her that when she had such a short amount of time left? How could he break her heart like that? How could he break his own heart again?
He touched the glass separating them. How could he bring her out when he had promised her?
The world had gone to shit. It had gotten worse and worse over the years. He kept up with the news enough to know new wizards that had risen to power. Worse wizards. No longer was it the world that Harry Potter and the Golden Trio had fixed. Draco didn’t bother caring about what had happened. What was the point? She was with him, she was always with him. That is what mattered.
Now, the famous Harry Potter had appeared on his doorstep. A war was coming. It was inevitable. Those alive were gathering together, making plans, and preparing themselves. Draco knew that nothing could be helped. Not without her. It had been so long and yet, she was their only hope. He knew it, the world knew it. Potter knew it.
His hand moved to the side where he typed in the four-digit code. A code was engraved into his head. One he told himself he would never enter.
The light flickered green and the door clicked open. Draco closed his eyes. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t look at her, he couldn’t face any of it. How could he? How could he do it?
A warm hand touched his cheek.
“Draco!”
His heart stopped. It stopped beating as his stomach dropped. That voice. He opened his eyes.
She was so beautiful. He had forgotten how round her face was, how dark her eyes were. The freckles that had dusted her cheeks and her nose. He had forgotten the pink of her lips. It worked.
“H-” His voice caught. She was here. Draco fought the tears that were in his eyes. Her thumb moved against his cheek.
She smiled. “You look so old.” He let out a sob. His wife…
“I’m so sorry,” he choked out. He had told himself he would never do it. No matter what he promised her.
A finger wiped the tears streaming down his face. He would always wipe her cheeks, he would always comfort her. Always.
She looked as she always had. Bright. Alive. He had taken that away from her.
“Do you remember what we told each other last night?”
Twenty-eight years for him, less than a few hours for her. He knew he would never forget. They had sat together on their couch, Molly’s gift covering both of them. They looked through their wedding photos. They had reminisced over that day, over the days that followed, the good and the bad. They made their promise that night. Together.
He nodded. “Surely I don’t think either of us was serious,” Draco admits.
“Okay, what about this?” Hermione leaned against his shoulder, playing with his fingers. Draco hummed.
“Wake me up if…Harry shaves his head,” She giggled.
Draco smiled at the thought. Potter could afford a haircut. “I’ll wake you up if Weasel joins him,” he retorted.
That only made her laugh harder, her chest shaking. Draco grinned at the thought. This game was rather fun, as horrible as it was. He was happy just to see her laugh.
“Okay, okay,” She settled down.
Wake me up if…the world needs saving again.”
Draco frowned, moving to stare at her. “What?” Of all scenarios…
“You know, if there’s some big dark wizard that needs to be stopped,” She shrugged her shoulders. Draco couldn’t tell if she was serious or not.
“Wake you up for THAT?”
She let out a giggle. She knew how ridiculous she was being. The corner of his mouth upturned as he stared at her expression. She knew she won.
He settled on the couch. “Fine.” If the wizarding world needs the Golden Girl Hermione Granger,”
He grunted as she elbowed his side. He knew she hated that nickname.
“Granger-Malfoy,” She corrected him. He smirked.
“-if they need Hermione Granger-Malfoy to save the world because it’s too useless to do itself, I’ll wake you up."
“Promise?”
Draco hesitated. He had promised himself so many things, he had promised her so many things.
“I promise.”
She held up her pinky. He stared at it before interlocking it with hers. She let out another giggle.
“You promised,” her voice was soft, kind. Surely she knew how this would end.
“But the doctors said-”
Her expression grew serious. “To hell with the doctors!”
The words sounded so familiar.
“But you said-” he was trying to reason with her. To give her a reason to go back. Screw the world. Screw all of it. She didn’t have to participate.
“I said I wanted to save lives,” Hermione reminded him. He wished he could tell her. Tell her all the lives that were saved because of her. Because of that damned machine that he checked all the time. She didn’t know the extent of it. She never would.
She took in his full appearance, her gaze going down to even his feet. Draco knew how he looked. His hair had grown. His wrinkles had deepened. It had been years and he had to show for it.
She finally spoke. “You’ve helped me so much. You’ve given me more time than I could ask for. You’ve always given so much of yourself.
Hermione stepped closer. “Let me take care of you.”
Draco knew he wasn’t going to change her mind. No one could. If there’s one thing he knew about her, it was that. No matter the time that had passed, no matter how much time had passed without her.
“Okay?”
“Okay,” he answered her. Draco loved her too much to deny her anything. Even this.